Apollo 12 hits bullseye
Illustration courtesy of Ryan Aeronautical Company
In this illustration which will take place later today, Surveyor 3, resting in the Ocean of Storms crater on the moon since April 19, 1967, is approached by Apollo 12 astronauts Charles Conrad and Alan Bean. In the background is the lunar module Intrepid, which landed the astronauts safely on the moon at 1:55 a.m.
The University of Kansas—Lawrence, Kansas Wednesday, Nov. 19, 1969
80th Year, No.48
BSU president calls Chancellor's reply to blacks' demands vague, unspecific
Darryl Bright, Maywood, Ill., senior and president of the Black Student Union (BSU), said Tuesday Chancellor E. Laurence Chalmers Jr. was vague and unspecific in his reply to the BSU demands.
in his reply to the BSU demands.
"He didn't make any commitments," Bright said. When the BSU executive committee read it, we thought it was shallow."
Chalmers made the reply in a five page letter addressed to
Bright. The Chancellor presented the letter to the BSU executive committee during a meeting Friday with members of the committee.
The list of demands presented to the Chancellor Oct. 31 called for, among other things, the creation and funding of the positions of dean of black students and dean of black student affairs, establishment of an Afro-American Institute of Research and Community Development and construction of Malcolm X Hall to house the Institute.
Chalmers said after the Friday meeting he "could not legally accept proposals that would create a separate hierarchical organization for black students within the University."
He stated in his letter to Bright (Continued on page 16)
BY AL ROSSITER JR.
UPI Space Writer
SPACE CENTER, Houston (UPI)—The Apollo 12 astronauts made an astonishing bullseye landing on the Ocean of Storms today, planted Old Glory and set up a scientific laboratory that immediately began sending the moon's secrets back to earth.
Charles H. "Pete" Conrad and Alan L. Bean, exultant and whistling as they worked, became the third and fourth Americans to stride the dusty surface of the moon after a pinpoint descent less than two city blocks from target.
They had difficulty removing the hot, radioactive plutonium that fuels the generator powering the mission's five major experiments. Millions of viewers were disappointed when the color television camera conked out and halted lunar transmission.
The third member of the crew, Richard F. Gordon, whirled above in lunar orbit and spotted the Intrepid lander on the rim of the crater in which a Surveyor 5 robot spacecraft set down two years ago.
The spirits of the two surface explorers were high. The 39-year-old Conrad, America's shortest spaceman, had a wisecrack as he made the last long step down the ladder from Intrepid.
"That may have been a small one step for Neil Armstrong but it's a long one for me."
The two new moonmen reentered their landing capsule, closing the hatch at 9:29 a.m., after setting a record for time walking the lunar landscape. Bean spent two hours and 58 minutes on the surface and Conrad three hours and 39 minutes. The Apollo 11 astronauts' longest excursion was two and one-half hours.
This was the beginning of real scientific exploration of the moon and it kept them hustling lugging out the seismometer and other delicate equipment it was hoped will function for more than a year. And at 8:22 a.m., operating on nuclear power, it began beaming data back to scientists on earth.
The entire science station would have been without power had they been unable to get the eight pound slug of plutonium 238 out of a special graphicice and beryllium cask on the Intrepid's side. They struggled to remove it with a special tool and Conrad warned Bean:
"Don't touch that! If you touch that, that's all she wrote."
They finally slipped the plutonium out and inserted it in the nuclear generator.
"I whistle while I work," Bean said, whistling a few notes to prove it.
At 6:42 a.m. Conrad and Bean planted the Stars and Stripes on the lunar surface, but the camera problems prevented Americans from watching the moment.
"I hope everybody down there is as proud of it as we are to put it up." Conrad said, burying the staff into the soft lunar dust.
"We're proud of what you're doing," Houston control radioed back.
(Continued to page 16)
'Then we moved on past the dream'
(Editor's note: Richard Louv, Wichita junior, gives his impression of last weekend's moratorium activities in Washington, D.C.)
By RICHARD LOUV
Kansan Correspondent
Kansas correspondent "Generally speaking, all the great events have been distorted, most of the important causes concealed, some of the principle characters never appear, and all who figure are so misunderstood and misrepresented, that the result is a complete mystification."
The Midwest slid by. The sameness from town to town was the same. Only the trees changed—now tall and straight, now twisted and short. Birds scattered in front of the bus but soon collected again in formation. The snow raced the wind and the scene was like Christmas with the gift uncertain on the eve of the event.
—Disraeli
Now and then we passed a hunter. And before and after the hunters would always be the towns, dropped like bathroom graffiti on the earth. All the signs were the same—S and H Green Stamps. Howard
Johnson's, A&P, Midas Mufler, Sears, Hillcrest, Milhaven, McDonald's. Like graffiti the names become trite, overused, thought out without thought.
Someone was reading aloud quotes from Spiro Agnew. We were laughing when the bus was stranded in the middle of Ohio with the wind blowing snow all around us. The low hills were lonely and haunting. A student asked, "What can we do here?" He looked out at the barren land, "There's nothing here to overthrow."
THE BUS WAS fixed and it moved on through the land. After a few hours it finally pulled in at a truck stop and Wolfe stood up at the front. "Friends, we'll have 25 minutes to fill the bus and unload the passengers." They headed for the restrooms as the bus was refueled.
As the students, most of them with long hair, lined into the restrooms, the truck drivers came pouring out. They watched the boys. The drivers were winking at each other. One made an effeminate gesture, but there was fear in his
We traveled from the cold land into the colder land. The cities kept repeating themselves. They all looked like Sioux City, Wichita, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Zanesville, Eudora, East Overshoe. Are we out of Kansas City yet? How far to Oz? How far to Camelot? How far to Pepperland?
Bob, who sat next to me, looked out at the houses that were all the same.
"WHAT WILL THEY do with all these houses in fifty years? Urban renewal is going to be a wish of the past," he said.
eyes—fear that was in all their eyes, fear that made me afraid.
Another Howard Johnson's moved up the road toward the bus.
We picked up a new driver there, having given the old one an ovation. He tipped his hat to us, and the new driver got on looking grouchy.
Bob was describing himself,
"With tears in his eyes, the
idealistic protestor waves a
fond goodby to the multicolored mystic motel, secure
with the knowledge that more
Apollo 12 headed for the Ocean of Storms. The bus approached Maryland. A student said excitedly, pointing out the window, "There it is! Behind those trees. I found America! Driver, turn off that dirt road, the one with the sign that says no trespassing!" The driver just smiled and then we saw the lights of the Capital.
What once might have been Camelot was now Oz; something strange and hard to penetrate, sometimes shimmering and cold like an emerald.
--get hurt the marshals will be circulating with first aid and eye drops for gassings. There was some violence today, so it's starting already . . ."
We entered that magic city, passed on the way by a troop carrier.
Howard Johnson's lay on the road ahead."
People swarmed around us in the camp. They were dressed in many costumes; army coats and trench coats, cossack caps and cowboy hats. Their arms were bound in black and their breath made small white clouds.
Wolfe was speaking. "We're passing out American Civil Liberties Union cards that tell you what to do if you're arrested. If you're clubbed, don't hit back. We want them to know that we came in peace for peace. Listen to the student marshals. If you
THE SIGNAL CAME and we collected what gear we needed. A box of the names of Kansans killed in Vietnam was pulled from behind my seat by Wolfe, who asked above the noise if anyone wanted a special name to carry* in the March Against Death. I asked for Dave Stone's card. At first Wolfe could not find the name.
"Was Dave killed in action?" Wolfe asked.
"How else would he be killed?" he laughed, looking around at the others standing in the aisle. Wolfe looked up and stared at him for several seconds, then again began to look through the box until he found the name.
A student moved beside us.
"Here it is." He looked at me.
"Was he your friend?"
"I met him once. He was a friend's best friend. He went to KU."
"Hold on to him tight." Wolfe handed me the card and I moved with the rest down the aisle and into the cold.
PEOPLE WENT everywhere. The camp was set up on the banks of the Potoniae, with car-
(Continued to page 2)