At the time I first became involved with the Titan base, I was actually a defense contractor out in Colorado and I stayed on that job until 2004. The business plan for the Titan facility in Colorado turned out to be economically unfeasible. The place is a mess, environmentally from a health standpoint. We saw that the cleanup wouldn’t get done any time in the near future. The federal funds had been there, and there’s an annual clean up budget, however, there were many higher priorities so we couldn’t count on those dollars.  In fact, an emergency came up in Colorado somewhere around 2002-2003 and they had to spend a pretty serious amount of money to fix it– over 200% of their annual budget in fact. Then the site in Colorado was sold. Along the same lines, we started a similar project out in Iowa, the idea was a secure data center.  We are now is inside of an old government communications bunker providing highly secure and reliable co-location.  Our company is InfoBunker (www.infobunker.com) and we provide secure location for people to protect their servers and data.

What first struck your interest in the Titan 1 in particular? How did your introduction transpire?

It’s probably easy to see such a place as interesting but when I moved out to Colorado around 1993, the first six months I was out there, somebody took me to one of the sites. He had been there once before and had taken some pictures, but he didn’t really have much in the way of technical information. He simply knew they were there. We went wandering through the complex for several hours and I was amazed at the scale. For a number of years after that nothing really came of it.  Later, around 1998, I mentioned this to someone else who became very interested in the sites and they found out that there weren’t just sites in Colorado and there were actually 18 of them altogether. He actually had a business plan in mind around the purchase of one of those sites and that’s how I got my access to that facility.  I turned out to be a sort of caretaker for the place.

How did the game map project start, and what was involved in it?

About 1998 the original Half-Life game came out and it came with game mapping software which allowed you to create your own levels. That was my first foray into everything.  I had trouble getting used to the mapping software and it was very easy to make it upset such that things didn’t work. About the same time another game came out called Unreal Tournament, which used a different editor, and it was slightly friendlier than the editor for Half-Life.  I had a big set of blueprints for the Titan base and I thought I could somehow translate these things into a game map– a sort of virtual Titan walk through. I looked into using CAD software, but it either came in a really limited student version, or you had a pay a bloody fortune for it. We were actually using professional CAD software where I was working called AutoDesk, the cost of which is astronomical – that wasn’t an option either.

What sort of time commitment did the game mapping work involve?

It was spread out over a period of about six months. I would spend an hour or two working in the evenings. I’m pretty sure I spent well over a hundred hours. It was really hard to fix things that went wrong in the editing software so I spent a lot of time re-working problems caused by my inexperience with it. Because of the Titan’s size it would become a performance issue in the game editor. It would run slowly sometimes going into the longer tunnels where there was a lot of rendering to be done.  The more you can see at once, the harder the CPU has to work to draw it. Going into the power house was a bit laggy. The files themselves were around 9 MB.

On your web site, you describe finding a Dash-1 in one of your early trips into the Titan base. What was it like finding these documents and what did they contain?

I was ecstatic when I found the Dash-1. We were just about ready to leave and I started digging through this pile of junk. It was bits of insulation and bits of scrap steel. As I dug down into the junk pile I found a stack of papers several inches thick. I had seen a scanned copy of a Dash-1 before, but to find one sitting there was something else. The more I dug the more I found – we probably found a good 120 lbs. of documents in there. A lot of it was parts lists and schematics of the guidance and communications systems and were very technically dense. Two interesting documents covered cleaning and maintenance of the facilities and launch consoles. They included the functions of the various buttons on the consoles itself and had a nice fold-out illustrations of the entire console panels. Any documents that were classified – that they (the Air Force) really cared about, went out the door with them, but these other documents were basically user’s manuals — or how-to maintenance guides, and parts lists. If any of the airmen had an interest in them, they would take some of the docs with them when the sites closed. I know some guys who had a collection of stuff from their career as a missile crew member. Typically a lot of these documents were destroyed by the Airforce as a matter of policy or simply thrown away. A lot of the ones I saw down there I haven’t seen anywhere else. Probably the only people that would have them would be the Air Force or the people who worked in those facilities.

There’s a very gripping narrative of your experience climbing to the top of an actual Silo. What was it like?

I can’t say that I wouldn’t do that again. After a while you kind of forget how scary something was and curiosity sets in again. It was insane but I just had to see it while I had the opportunity. It was probably one of the more frightening things I’ve experienced outside of being in a serious car accident. It took me about 30 minutes to make the ascent to the top but the descent was the worst of it. Part of that was working my way from the entrance to the silo. I had to work my way around the perimeter out to the liquid oxygen (LOX) tunnel. Once I got there, there were a lot of obstacles sticking out of the wall. There’s a very large water pipe for the fire suppression system which is an 18-inch conduit.  I had to get past that pipe going up and back down.  Imagine standing on a ledge in the dark that sticks out 18 inches over a very long drop and you can’t see any footholds below so you have to blindly lower yourself over the edge and hope you find something to step on so you can get down safely.

Have you spoken to past airmen? what were their recollections of the journey?

I did in fact speak with one person – there was a retired colonel and I think he worked out at one of the Washington sites. His name was Charles Simpson he was actually head of the AAFM:  the association of air force missiliers (http://www.afmissileers.org/). I asked him all kinds of questions like what was was it like to be down in one of these facilities – One of the things I was really curious was the power dome.  What was it like inside one of these massive domes when the site was in operation – he said, “It was very very loud.”

Related posts:

1. Discovering the History of a Titan I Base
2. Inside a Titan 1 Missile Base
3. A California Titan Missile Base

This is a special post, stemming from a New Year’s resolution: All 1500 images in my collection (as well as the 10,000 others yet to be published) are now licensed under Creative Commons. You can find out what it means, here. My interest in history is really part of a larger interest in engaging the public and making them aware of the vast cultural shift we’re experiencing. The opportunities and perils that we’re experiencing now will only get more marked. And in order to fight the urges all of us have – to cloister ourselves from this increasingly ugly world – we should all strive to give back in some small way.

Last year, my lackluster attempt at meeting a New Year’s resolution was just barely met when – on a foggy December morning – I helped plant native grass at a local historical park site. This year, I decided to strive to make 2009 much less torpid.

All I have are my photos and words. I realize they are only a minor submission, especially in a world that is increasingly barraged with the creative works of millions of talented individuals. But my announcement today will hopefully send joy to the heart of some researcher or blogger who loves writing about obscure topics or odd places but can’t seem to find that perfect illustration.

This is no small jump. I’ve spent many sleepless nights composing that “perfect” shot. I’ve weathered the cold and have foregone showers for days (much to the chagrin of fellow photographers) to capture that perfect element of the landscape. I leave it to you – readers, thinkers, human beings above all – to analyze it, re-work it, make it your own. I’m giving up a large part of myself just as millions of others are. But that’s the beauty of where we are in history, ain’t it? How can I not do this? You are my inspiration. You help me continue this great project I have in my mind.

Today, as I release these 1,500-odd images of little-known places that each have a special place in my heart, I can only hope you can put them to good use, perhaps understand my intention, and even make them your own in some small way, because – really – that’s what it means to be human. Thank you for reading. I have a great story for you coming from a contributor tomorrow!

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Interior of Castro Theatre image by Katie Spence

Movie Poster Passion of Joan of Arc

The Passion of Joan of Arc is consistently given the laurels as one of the greatest movies of all time. Maria Falconetti’s performance as the 19-year-old Saint, Joan of Arc, has been called the 26th greatest performance in cinema. Sight & Sound’s top ten films poll listed Passion three times (in 1952, 1972, and 1992). But Passion itself is not the remarkable story, despite its revolutionary cinematography and film editing techniques.

No, the real story is that of Director Theodore Dreyer, who spent $9 million in 1928 dollars on the Passion of Joan of Arc only to see its destruction by fire a year later. Dreyer died in 1968 believing that his uncut, 86-minute opus in its original format was lost forever. History, however, has strange ways of creeping back into notoriety.

When Dreyer passed in 1968, there were only a few rudimentary cuts of the film remaining (whatever wasn’t consumed by fire was censored by religious leaders for its harsh portrayal of Joan’s inquisitors who – let’s not forget – were men of ‘religious esteem’). Dreyer painstakingly tried to piece together fragments in a 1933 release that was 61 minutes long (the original was 86). The film circulated for some time in its less then perfect format until the second original was destroyed once again, annoyingly enough by fire once again.

Still, in pure, poetic justice to the film’s namesake and Joan herself (who was given sainthood by the Catholic Church just seven years before the film’s release) an uncut, original release re-emerged in 1981. It appeared in the most unlikely of places: Deep in the bowels of a closet within the maze of passageways of an abandoned psychiatric hospital in Oslo, Norway. An unknown doctor had ordered the film – perhaps intending to show it to his troubled patients as an example of Christian virtue (or maybe even to show his mentally ill patients that divinity is sometimes perceived wrongly as “insanity”). What mattered was that history had rediscovered something it never should have lost — and all because someone forgot to throw away something in their closet.

Falconetti as Joan of Arc

The warm November night I sat admiring the Castro Theater’s Spanish Colonial embellishments and the deco sconces, I imagined the original screening of the film in the very place I was sitting. The Wurlitzer Pipe Organ started the show with verve. The curtains separated. And the lights dimmed. Maria Falconetti’s face appeared, in dramatic close-up. Her tears were palpable, and hundreds of strings heralded the beginning of the oratorio created specifically, and inspired by, the film. Richard Einhorn’s “Voices of Light” could not have been a better match for the dramatic images of Joan of Arc’s final days alive.

As it turned out, Passion would be Falconetti’s final performance as a film actress. After a stint as a stage actor, she escaped from France to Argentina at the height of World War II and lived her final days in peace (no doubt from Dreyer’s authoriatarian style of directing). But the re-discovery of The Passion of Joan of Arc will always be considered one of the great blessings of modern cinema. Chances of its survival were slim – the Library of Congress estimates that only 10% of films made before 1928 exist today. But in its 1,300 individual shots, its three-dimensional multi-million dollar set, and the painful passion exhibited on the face of Maria Falconetti we see a new purpose in the preservation of history, even for something as ‘kitsch’ as a reel of old film.

Related posts:

1. Frank Lloyd Wright and His Forgotten Larkin Building
2. Auschwitz “Death Camp” Blueprints Discovered in Berlin Apartment
3. Atomic Cafe: America in the Era of the A-Bomb

This from one of my favorite flickr contacts, army.arch. The Albertson’s drug store, located at 32nd and Broadway in Paducah, KY.

The list on the bottom right, entitled, “Honor Roll” shows the drug store’s ex-carhops, who were – at the time – in the armed forces.

This was retrieved from the National Archives.

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Long Version: You might have noticed the (tacky?) new design. Fret not. It is a temporary measure to at least make sense of the jumbled ball of spaghetti that I’ve made of a relatively straightforward subject (Geography is straightforward – of course!)

But it also forebodes changes to the Bearings blog. Some may be good. Some you may even grumble at. It won’t break my heart if you unsubscribe from the RSS feed as a result, but you will be missing out, trust me.

Why? First, this blog will become more frequently updated. Second, the updates will become a collective project (i.e. the stories no longer emanate from one imperfect brain, but rather, from many imperfect brains). No longer do you have to reconcile your frustration with my disjointedness in diction; now you can try to make sense of many different talking heads (trust me: this is progress). In time, given the right contributions, and the right mix of smart, intellectually stimulating writers, I’m sure you will choose a favorite writer. And of course, I will cry in a corner if that storyteller is not me.

In the meantime, I hope you’ll provide a warm welcome to our incoming freshmen by offering your own opinions and insight on their posts. I’m not going to stop this blog until the corners of the Earth are covered, so contribute today if you have something that will put us all in awe.

Related posts:

1. Where’s Waldo on Google Earth?

Photo Courtesy Thomas M.

If you ever wonder what it’s like, this is the typical outfit on a journey. Sometimes the respirator is absent; other times it’s a necessity. My lungs are precious. And considering that this was a missile silo that once contained, benzine, hydrazine, diesel fuel, asbestos, and PCBs, I figured a respirator was a good measure. The only issue was taking pictures, so I often pulled it away from the face to get that perfect shot (as seen here). The risks I take for that ‘shot.’ If you’re a photographer, too, I’m sure you understand.

Related posts:

1. A California Titan Missile Base

Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch is up for auction next week. Bearings has gained access to the ranch, and has posted the images below.

As an aside, I personally believe Jackson is innocent of all charges. I speak as someone who has been on Jackson’s Neverland Ranch. It’s a bit disconcerting to think that I stand in solidarity with Geraldo Rivera, but what can ya do?

Many images I am not posting, out of respect for Jackson’s privacy. What I do post are places that were largely seen by the public (or at least by hordes of kids who count it a privilege to have been on “the Ranch.”) Whether or not you believe he’s innocent, one can still appreciate the beauty of Jackson’s vision in creating such a place. None of us should ever lose our sense of wonder and amazement at the world, and I think Jackson truly wanted children to have this, largely because he never had it as a child himself.

Without further ado, here are the photos.

The train station at Neverland Ranch, taken on Kodak T-Max 100 speed film. Taken using a Tachihara large format field camera.

The ferris wheel – What I would give to have a ride on this puppy.

The classic, 50-foot carousel. Each horse and character seemed to be unique.

The bumper car tent.

Statues near the front gate with aspen behind.

The Neverland clock at the main train station. I believe the time was accurate.

Ride designed exclusively for Michael Jackson. These were the controls for the bumper cars.

The front gate of Neverland Ranch.

A lithograph of Michael Jackson with children at the front gate.

More pictures at: http://www.terrastories.com/bearings/albums/album/72157603558879859/Neverland.html

Related posts:

1. Saying Goodbye to Neverland and Michael Jackson
2. Inside a Titan 1 Missile Base
3. Where’s Waldo on Google Earth?

My friend, Jo Guldi passed this link on to me, so I figured I’d pass it on to you. When I first posted it, I planned on just copying and pasting the image, adding a few lines of text, and clicking Save. Once I got to writing this entry, however, one question led to another; one realization went deeper; and before I knew it, I had an entire thesis in Internet-lingo hammered away in a disjointed nature and pasted with various aerial images. It exists below, but really, the purpose of this entry was to show you the above image from Google Maps, maybe get a bit of a chuckle out of you, and move on. Little did I know that thinking too much thwarted those plans.

It’s been a few years since we’ve seen a book by Yann Arthus-Bertrand, the famed photographer who really gave verve to the genre of aerial photography. It’s a beautiful thing to skim through Bertrand’s Earth from Above. Bertrand gave vision to an art that had existed for years, but hadn’t truly reached its full potential.

One need only look at the image of San Francisco by kite to see that the hobby has existed for well over a hundred years and dates back to the early days of photography. If anyone has a Daguerreotype by kite, I’d love to see it! For now, you’ll just have to deal with the beautiful panorama of the city by the Bay, which required 10 kites and hauled a 49-lb camera 2,000 feet above the post-apocalyptic scene of San Francisco in 1906.

Photo by George R. Lawrence

Getting back to why I’m so fond of aerial photography (but have yet to hit up friend Scott Haefner as to how I can best get started with this gig) — the reason I personally love looking at aerial photography is that it represents a distillation of the very essence of the landscape; the interactions of built with natural; and the effect that humans have on the landscape. All of these things go back to why I chose Geography as a field of study, and why it continues to fascinate me to this day.

Photo by Yann Arthus-Bertrand
So why the sudden move to history? I think that Geography and History are two of the most inextricable studies that exist. And at the same time, it’s my own personal protestation to refuse to accept a specialty. I’ve heard the quote in two different versions, but the message is the same: Specialization is for ants. Those of us who either observe the landscape deeply, or photograph it — or even see it from above — realize that we don’t want to be ants. We want to look at what the ants have built. We want to analyze the ants’ interaction with the landscape. And it all leads to deeper questions…

Why do we do the things we do — as human beings? Why do we live in closely packed subdivisions on the edge of humanity to separate ourselves from the rest of humanity; then regularly face the traffic, the pollution, the frustrations with humanity every day to commute to work? What do we get from migrating away from our own species? And why can’t we just float above it all and look down at the beauty that exists every day in front of us – to stand in awe and appreciation of our creations, however small they may look from above.

This may sound a bit sacrilegious, and I’m sure God is going to smite me to hell for saying it, but we humans are our own gods. We create our own versions of the world, our own little ant hills. Each day is an opportunity to create something beautiful, and seeing these things from the sky both humbles AND plays at humanity’s ego-strings.

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I am saddened by the fact that this is happening. It seems like such an incredible waste of an incredible piece of history. The ship has held Ronald Reagan and other notables on-board. It’s the last remaining American Ocean Liner besides the SS United States (which is in much, much worse condition).

The SS Independence could easily return to service. She could easily be turned into a floating hotel and resort in a U.S. port. She could even be put back to her Hawaiian cruise tour.

Perhaps in another economic era, when Americans felt a bit more frivolous and were able to travel a bit more, the SS Independence would be a viable enterprise. I don’t know if it could now, but that doesn’t mean it would be prohibitively expensive to preserve. All she would need is a place to float and a bare-bones crew to keep her clean. Richmond seems like a good place, as that’s where a historic Victory ship is floating as I type this.

The SS Independence was built with our money. She was a subsidized liner. She is owned as much by us as she is by Norwegian Cruise Lines, who promised to preserve her or put her back into service as a contingency of their purchase. In this case, it’s another instance of broken promises and lies — and toxic cleanup being shipped off to a developing country so we don’t have to deal with our asbestos-laden past.

I encourage Bearings readers to submit an email or letter to their local media making them aware of this historic ship and telling them of the environmental and human costs associated with shipping her off to Alang. She could still be saved, if we move swiftly, though chances of that happening are slim.

Related posts:

1. San Francisco’s SS Independence: Images and History
2. So Alang SS Indy
3. Bethlehem Steel, Wartime Labor, and San Francisco

One of my resolutions for 2008 was to update this site and make it a bit more user-friendly.? Granted, I’m only about 1/3 of the way there, but as you’ll notice, I’ve added a few tweaks.

If you find an article especially interesting or appealing, you now have the option of sharing it via a suite of various social bookmarking sites.? You can also easily subscribe to the RSS.? If you’re a new visitor, you may notice there’s a little widget at top that encourages you to subscribe.? Don’t despair if it annoys you; I promise it will only appear 2-3 times before it disappears.

Launch two will come soon; in addition to a new look and feel, I’ll soon be offering the ability for you to contribute to Bearings.? What this means to you is that you get added value to your site through an inbound link, I get a great article to distribute, and you get exposure through a great geography blog (I don’t pretend that it’s the “best” per se, but I can say that quite a few Bearings readers will find your submission interesting, valuable, and intriguing). I’ll be accepting photo submissions too!

So now that the housecleaning summary is done, here comes the fun part:

In the Coming Weeks…

• Follow me through the abandoned decks and hull of a ghost ship. Telstar Logistics has inspired me to do the additional research necessary to turn this into a decent story with photos (three-part series).
• Learn about the religious significance of hot springs in America. You won’t believe the cool sources I found; you’ll also get a health dose of images from these defunct hot spring resorts! (three-part series).
• Special grab bag surprise. I can’t tell you what this story is going to be about, but I can guarantee that it will be a doozy — with photos (one-part entry).

Happy Belated Holidays from the Bearings Editor, and I wish the best 2008 you could possibly imagine. If you have any suggestions, questions, or requests please feel more than free to contact me.

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