Blaze Sanders has all the new right stuff.
Born the year the space shuttle Challenger exploded in midair, raised under the clear night skies of upstate New York and educated at Johns Hopkins University, he has served internships at the Johnson Space Center and the Marshall Space Flight Center. He has studied robotics, welding and computer science. He once built a prototype Martian airlock. Plus, his real name is Blaze.
So last month, when NASA announced the biggest astronaut recruiting campaign in its 53-year history, Sanders added the application to his list of private-sector options.
“I think I can get to space faster on my own,” he told The Daily. “I’m really only applying to see what the paperwork’s like and what they’re looking for.”
For decades, the United States has famously struggled to regain its place at the forefront of space exploration. Its new call for astronauts, featuring an enchantingly matter-of-fact “Help Wanted” ad, gave bloggers ample comic fodder. Most of them noted, with varying degrees of hilarity, the country’s lack of a new spaceship.
In the modern race to conquer orbital space for commerce, incremental developments in recent days have underscored that inspiration-deficit narrative, which has hardened into conventional wisdom. Last Wednesday, two Russian cosmonauts and a lone American astronaut joined the crew of the International Space Station. The following day, China completed a remote-controlled docking operation crucial to building its own separate station.
Back on Earth, four towering figures from the Cold War heyday of test pilots and moon shots visited the Capitol to accept the Congressional Gold Medal, as Congress considered a budget that would cut funding for NASA by nearly $650 million. And Allianz, the European insurance firm, announced new travel policies available to the 450 or so tourists who have signed up to experience weightlessness on $200,000, five-minute excursions planned by Virgin Galactic.
To the casual observer, it all added up to more momentum for the low-wattage resignation of 21st century space development.
But somebody forgot to tell the kids. Across the country, in universities, private research labs and start-up companies, the dream of deep space exploration thrives in the hearts of an ambitious cast of young Americans, many of whom are applying to join the astronaut corps.
“NASA’s going to become one of the tools to get aspiring astronauts into space,” said Javier Stober, 24, a master’s candidate in aerospace engineering at Stanford University. “NASA’s got the history, and all these private ventures have the energy. It’s hard to know which one to go with.”
For Stober, who grew up watching shuttle launches from a marina near his home in Tampa Bay, inspiration has never been a problem.
“The first one was particularly memorable,” he said. “It was STS-98. And it was a sunset launch on the night of a full moon. The higher parts of the plume were lit up by the sun. I just remember thinking I wanted to be on that.”
By eighth grade, Stober was taking rocketry classes.
“I knew exactly what I wanted to do,” he said, “and I didn’t waste any time.”
After internships at two NASA facilities in California, he gained a slot at Johnson Space Center in Houston, where he met more than a dozen astronauts. At the time, the agency was inducting its last new group, the class of 2009 “There was a buzz going around the center,” he said. “Everyone was talking about it.”
Back then, Stober lacked the qualifications. In addition to a science degree and proper physical conditioning, the agency requires three years’ professional experience or 1,000 hours in the cockpit of a jet. Now he plans to apply, if only to burnish his resume for commercial space exploration.
“It’s pretty exciting,” he said, “because we don’t have to be at the whim of only NASA.”
For the space agency, uncertainty is hardly a new obstacle to recruiting. Scott Parazynski, an astronaut who logged millions of miles aboard shuttles Atlantis, Endeavor and Discovery, likes to remind young applicants that in 1992, when he signed up as a candidate, Congress was divided on whether to approve the space station.
“Getting paid to fly in space is without doubt the greatest job in the universe,” Parazynski said. “Certainly, the mandate and the destination for future NASA exploration missions is vague at present, but I tell all those who approach me about potentially applying that it’s worth going for with all they’ve got.”
Some are pursuing the private route more aggressively. Brian Shiro, who advanced to the “highly qualified” tier in the last NASA recruiting class, has started a private group called Astronauts4Hire to train crews for commercial spacecraft.
“I’m certainly applying again,” Shiro said, “but I’m not pinning all of my hopes on NASA.”
Still, even among the practical-minded ranks of Astronauts4Hire, the exploratory spirit remains strong.
“Obviously a trip way out to the outer planets is not feasible in my lifetime,” said Ben Corbin, a member of the group. “But Mars is.”
Born the year the space shuttle Challenger exploded in midair, raised under the clear night skies of upstate New York and educated at Johns Hopkins University, he has served internships at the Johnson Space Center and the Marshall Space Flight Center. He has studied robotics, welding and computer science. He once built a prototype Martian airlock. Plus, his real name is Blaze.
So last month, when NASA announced the biggest astronaut recruiting campaign in its 53-year history, Sanders added the application to his list of private-sector options.
“I think I can get to space faster on my own,” he told The Daily. “I’m really only applying to see what the paperwork’s like and what they’re looking for.”
For decades, the United States has famously struggled to regain its place at the forefront of space exploration. Its new call for astronauts, featuring an enchantingly matter-of-fact “Help Wanted” ad, gave bloggers ample comic fodder. Most of them noted, with varying degrees of hilarity, the country’s lack of a new spaceship.
In the modern race to conquer orbital space for commerce, incremental developments in recent days have underscored that inspiration-deficit narrative, which has hardened into conventional wisdom. Last Wednesday, two Russian cosmonauts and a lone American astronaut joined the crew of the International Space Station. The following day, China completed a remote-controlled docking operation crucial to building its own separate station.
Back on Earth, four towering figures from the Cold War heyday of test pilots and moon shots visited the Capitol to accept the Congressional Gold Medal, as Congress considered a budget that would cut funding for NASA by nearly $650 million. And Allianz, the European insurance firm, announced new travel policies available to the 450 or so tourists who have signed up to experience weightlessness on $200,000, five-minute excursions planned by Virgin Galactic.
To the casual observer, it all added up to more momentum for the low-wattage resignation of 21st century space development.
But somebody forgot to tell the kids. Across the country, in universities, private research labs and start-up companies, the dream of deep space exploration thrives in the hearts of an ambitious cast of young Americans, many of whom are applying to join the astronaut corps.
“NASA’s going to become one of the tools to get aspiring astronauts into space,” said Javier Stober, 24, a master’s candidate in aerospace engineering at Stanford University. “NASA’s got the history, and all these private ventures have the energy. It’s hard to know which one to go with.”
For Stober, who grew up watching shuttle launches from a marina near his home in Tampa Bay, inspiration has never been a problem.
“The first one was particularly memorable,” he said. “It was STS-98. And it was a sunset launch on the night of a full moon. The higher parts of the plume were lit up by the sun. I just remember thinking I wanted to be on that.”
By eighth grade, Stober was taking rocketry classes.
“I knew exactly what I wanted to do,” he said, “and I didn’t waste any time.”
After internships at two NASA facilities in California, he gained a slot at Johnson Space Center in Houston, where he met more than a dozen astronauts. At the time, the agency was inducting its last new group, the class of 2009 “There was a buzz going around the center,” he said. “Everyone was talking about it.”
Back then, Stober lacked the qualifications. In addition to a science degree and proper physical conditioning, the agency requires three years’ professional experience or 1,000 hours in the cockpit of a jet. Now he plans to apply, if only to burnish his resume for commercial space exploration.
“It’s pretty exciting,” he said, “because we don’t have to be at the whim of only NASA.”
For the space agency, uncertainty is hardly a new obstacle to recruiting. Scott Parazynski, an astronaut who logged millions of miles aboard shuttles Atlantis, Endeavor and Discovery, likes to remind young applicants that in 1992, when he signed up as a candidate, Congress was divided on whether to approve the space station.
“Getting paid to fly in space is without doubt the greatest job in the universe,” Parazynski said. “Certainly, the mandate and the destination for future NASA exploration missions is vague at present, but I tell all those who approach me about potentially applying that it’s worth going for with all they’ve got.”
Some are pursuing the private route more aggressively. Brian Shiro, who advanced to the “highly qualified” tier in the last NASA recruiting class, has started a private group called Astronauts4Hire to train crews for commercial spacecraft.
“I’m certainly applying again,” Shiro said, “but I’m not pinning all of my hopes on NASA.”
Still, even among the practical-minded ranks of Astronauts4Hire, the exploratory spirit remains strong.
“Obviously a trip way out to the outer planets is not feasible in my lifetime,” said Ben Corbin, a member of the group. “But Mars is.”
