Saving Mission Control
Money, access complicate project to restore former NASA nerve center
An overhead light flickers sickly in the Mission Operation Control Room 2 at Johnson Space Center. The nerve center for the Apollo missions, during which man first reached the moon, is an engineering cathedral in ruin.
Gone are the room’s glory days, the decades of Gemini and Apollo and the shuttle programs. Many of the carpet squares are stained and taped together. Behind the glass in the visitor area — where dignitaries and media observed Mission Control at work — the seats are worn. Ash tray covers have been pried loose and pieces of upholstery cut away for souvenirs.
The Mission Control room is a National Historic Landmark, and plans to restore it have been discussed for more than 20 years. But its restoration and preservation remain in limbo, with no set date for work to begin.
The room is property
of Johnson Space Center, whose officials say that restoration is a priority. But they note that NASA has other priorities, too – including the space flights managed in the large, active building where the control room is located.
Preservationists and former flight controllers complain that, under JSC’s watch, the room suffers unnecessary wear and tear while serving as a photo backdrop for things such as mannequin challenges or a visit by Texas A&M’s collie mascot, Reveille.
In November, Gene Kranz, a flight director during NASA’s Gemini and Apollo missions, spoke to a group of preservationists touring the room.
At 83, Kranz remains instantly recognizable: In the 1995 film “Apollo 13,” actor Ed Harris captured his furrowed brow, flat-top haircut and Air Force efficiency. Like all NASA people, Kranz usually refers to the room by its acronym, MOCR2 — pronounced “Mo-ker Two.”
“This is a place of history,” he told the group. “But what I see is a tired Mission Control, worn of its heart and soul. It’s time to start the battle for its restoration.”
NASA’s ‘Gettysburg’
The most recent proposal to restore Mission Control, released last year, would cost an estimated $3 million and require approximately 18 months of work.
That would restore MOCR2 to the way it was between Apollo missions 11 through 17 — right down to the headsets, pencil holders and amber glass ash trays. The result would make MOCR2 — already a popular attraction — the crown jewel of Space Center Houston.
Sandra J. Tetley, NASA’s historic preservation officer, would like to see MOCR2 treated as a cultural treasure. “For flight controllers, this is their Gettysburg,” she said.
In the control room now, the consoles are a hybrid of Apollo and Shuttle technology; they’d be restored fully to Apollo gear. The stained carpet would be replaced.
Projectors would once again shine relevant maps onto the “Bat Cave” screens. The digital clocks — now dead, black rectangles — would again keep time. Pencils, paperwork and desk items would be appropriate to the era.
Such ephemera is becoming ever harder to find and preserve. On her walks around NASA, whenever Tetley spies a historic doodad, she swipes it and stores it in Building 425, a warehouse full of space history.
Everyone talks about the amber glass ash trays.
“Look, there was no downtime,” said George Weisinger, a historical restoration expert who has consulted on the project. “So they smoked like chimneys in there. … Space flight was precise, and it was unforgiving. It was stressful work. … That means ash trays.”
“You’ll probably need a few day-old butts in there,” joked Glynn Lunney, 79, another legendary flight director from Gemini and Apollo. “There was a particular way the room smelled.”
A film star’s face-lift
To be ready by July 16, 2019, in time for the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing, the room’s restoration would have to start by the end of 2017.
“We are certainly excited about the whole restoration project,” said Johnson Space Center Director Dr. Ellen Ochoa. “And we’re also committed to doing it in time for the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.”
But this is where things get complicated.
Located on the third floor of Building 30 at Johnson Space Center, MOCR2 was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1985 and retired seven years later. Because it’s a historic landmark, the National Park Service and the Texas State Historical Association are both interested parties, but the room remains the property of Johnson Space Center.
MOCR2 is just one room in a building where NASA continues to conduct clas- sified work. The Christopher C. Kraft Jr. Mission Control Center still manages space flights from there.
“We have to make sure we concentrate on the current work and the future as well,” Ochoa said.
Money also is an issue, though not the only one. Government employees cannot participate in fundraising, so that isn’t an option for Johnson Space Center. But Space Center Houston — JSC’s visitor center — is a nonprofit and able to do so.
Last spring, Space Center Houston hired William Harris, with an extensive background in fundraising, as president and CEO. Harris likens MOCR2 to “a classic film star.”
“Because of ‘Apollo 13,’ people want to see it,” he said. “One of the first projects Dr. Ochoa asked me to take on was securing resources to renovate and conserve MOCR.”
Apollo flight controllers, though, express concern that progress has ceased.
The National Historic Preservation Act’s Section 106 requires a consultation meeting to advance the project, but it hasn’t taken place. Tom Keohan of the Park Service said his organization responded to an invitation for that consultation in February, but since then has heard noth- ing from NASA.
DNA of the future What happens after funding is secured? That’s another potential tangle. Storytelling issues arise. Last year, the park service published the 164page “Historic Furnishings Report and Visitor Experience Plan: Apollo Mission Control Center National Historic Landmark,” with recommendations for an Apollo-centric narrative.
But those recommendations are just that: recommendations.
Naturally, the Apollo flight controllers favor a focus on Apollo. Other parties wish to see its Gemini and shuttle history recognized as well.
Ochoa referenced the need to solicit bids for the restoration work. But Weisinger, the restoration consultant, said such bids were made more than a year ago at no charge.
“The contractor got paid, but we charged them zero for the plans we submitted,” he said.
There’s also the sticky matter of who’d be allowed to enter the room after it’s restored.
The standard Space Center Houston tour stops at the visitor room, which has been ravaged. There, regular guests can see but not step into Mission Control. Sometimes, when those visitors look through the window, they see VIP guests milling about the control room.
According to preservationists, far too many VIP visitors go inside the room. The park service reports roughly 40,000 VIPs are allowed access each year and say that, to cut theft and wear and tear, the number should drop to 2,000.
And it’s not just VIPs who enter the room. NASA also grants access to its guests. The Apollo flight directors believe Johnson Space Center is loath to give up a beloved location for family visits, photo ops, retirement parties and other events.
“Have you ever been to a museum where you touch things, historical things?” asked Ed Fendell, an Apollo flight controller. “We’re trying to build a museum here. But if people are allowed to bring in guests who climb over the consoles, take the headsets and coffee cups and ash trays, it’ll just get ruined again. That’s the big fight.”
‘It belongs to everyone’
Ochoa insisted that when a restoration is complete, access to the room will grow scarce.
“With the restoration, that will change,” she said.
“That’s the way it should be,” said Weisinger, the restoration expert. “It’s not their room anymore. ‘For all mankind’ … It belongs to everyone in America. This is a matter of understanding what it is.”
Weisinger likes to envision a restoration in which guests enter the visitor room to the sounds of Mission Control talking with Apollo 11’s crew in the two minutes leading to touchdown on the moon. Through the viewing window, they’d see consoles and ephemera appropriate to the era.
“That room is history, sure, but the graphics, the interface, the live screens with information, this was the beginning of what would become home theater,” he said. “It planted in the American psyche things that would become the internet. The idea of staring at computers all day. This room led to so many aspects of modern, everyday life, even though you don’t see a PC anywhere in that room.
“Instead those guys would whip out a slide rule and do what a computer does. It’s some of the most complex engineering that ever happened, and it’s all American, and it’s all here.”