A short story about me and this calendar, with guest appearances by Carl Sagan, the lovely and talented Tamara Loomis, and two small boys named Sam and Malcolm. 

Chapter 1: Astronomy Bug Bites New Jersey Kid

Despite growing up in northern New Jersey, where light pollution was invented, I somehow managed to develop a deep and abiding passion for astronomy and space exploration. One of my earliest memories is watching the 1970 solar eclipse through a pinhole camera in my backyard, and I recall seeing the launch of one of the later Apollo lunar missions on TV.

The late seventies were lean years for American human spaceflight, but I followed the shuttle Enterprise approach and landing tests with great interest, put in my requisite time flying model rockets, and bought my first telescope (a C5) in 1980 with money I earned caddying.

In high school I was fortunate enough to meet Alan Levin, a physics teacher and sponsor of the Columbia High School Astronomy Club.  Alan and I joined the New Jersey Astronomical Society and spent many memorable weekend nights observing with the group's 24" telescope under the relatively dark skies of western New Jersey. Alan and I have enjoyed many astronomical adventures over the years; from 1986 to 1998 we published The Starry Messenger, a monthly classified shopper for used telescopes, and in 1991 we observed the "solar eclipse of the century" from La Paz, Mexico.

Chapter 2: The Only Thing I Knew About Ithaca

In 1983, when I was setting off for college, the only thing I new about Ithaca, New York was that Carl Sagan lived there. I was one of multitudes who had watched Cosmos religiously each week on PBS.  Cornell's most famous faculty member wasn't the reason I enrolled, but his presence added to the appeal of this centrally-isolated oasis.

After college I made Ithaca my home, and this is where I met the lovely and talented Tamara Loomis. We were married on August 21, 1992, a date we picked, in part, because the next solar eclipse visible in the U.S. will happen on our 25th anniversary in 2017.  This may be a record for most-planned-in-advance anniversary. It better not rain.

Chapter 3: A Boy's First Calendar

Near the end of 1991 I was visiting a bookstore in Boston and noticed that most of the desk calendars were about cats. Or puppies. Or sailboats.  There wasn't a single desk calendar devoted to space exploration or astronomy.  It seemed like a niche I could fill, so I learned what was involved in producing a full-color calendar, and in the summer of 1993 I published the 1994 Astronomy & Space Weekly Calendar, a 128-page book that essentially followed the same format as today's larger Year In Space.

That winter I sent a copy to Carl Sagan. Despite having lived in the same town for ten years, I had only seen him once or twice at public speaking engagements. He was gracious enough to write back to me, and his offer to share the calendar with The Planetary Society was the beginning of a relationship with that organization that lasts to this day.

Chapter 4:  How Calendars Change with Time

To publish that first calendar I worked with slides or color transparencies, which I manually marked for cropping and enlarging. They were photographed and turned into color separated sets of film. Image editing at the time had to be subcontracted out at a cost of hundreds of dollars per hour, so I had to hope for good quality originals.

I used an IBM PC and Microsoft Word to print out oversized versions of the captions and calendar pages on a laser printer, which were then photographically reduced to increase their resolution. I shipped my materials off to be printed. I traveled to Houston to look at images in the NASA archives. I did a lot of faxing, I looked up facts in the latest reference books. I requested information by telephone.

Today, nearly every image that I publish in the calendar begins life in digital form. Even historic images from NASA's archives are digitized.  I process every image on a modest laptop computer, and layout the entire document in a single file that I transmit electronically to a printing company halfway around the world.

The desire to share the calendar with an even larger audience prompted me to develop this new website, where all the space images and information are published weekly for all to enjoy. My hope is that as people become familiar with the online calendar, they'll want to purchase a copy of the desk calendar to enjoy for themselves or to give as a gift.

Chapter 5: What I Learned from Gemini, the (Almost) Twins

Both of my sons were born in June, a little more than a year apart, Sam in 2001, and Malcolm in 2002. They could pass for twins, and the fact that they are both Geminis is not lost on the space history buff in me. They are bright, beautiful, inquisitive, and funny, and their biggest gift to me is allowing me to see firsthand how children can thrive if they are given the chance. 

This realization, along with the flexibility of being my own boss, led me in 2004 to become an advocate for educational equity in our local school system.  I volunteer with many other community members who are committed to eliminating race, class, and disability as predictors of academic success.  We focus on early literacy, mentoring, systemic change, and developing cross-cultural relationships to ensure that all children will succeed in school.  Volunteering regularly in support of children who don't have the advantages that my own kids enjoy is the most rewarding work I've ever done in my life.

Chapter 6:  Another Year In Space

I hope you enjoy The Year in Space as much I enjoy publishing it. Now with this new website, I hope to share my passion for space exploration and astronomy with an even larger audience.

My sincere thanks go to everyone who has purchased the calendar over the years. Your support has allowed me to earn a living doing something I enjoy, and it doesn't get much better than that.