A Post from an Ancient Astronaut :)

Hello Jared,
Thanks for sending this in. Ahhh great memories of that Fallout Shelter under the school. A great Sci Fi whatever.
Mr. W.

And Now Jared's Comment:

If you're an "old-timer" I don't know what to call myself. Before the Space Education Center even had a name Vic was taking us on voyages across the universe in the empty school lunch room. The overhead projector with the squiggly drawings of the alien encounters were enough to get our imaginations going. Fire the torpedos! Oh, no... the tractor beam got us. This was one of the coolest parts I remember - boarding the alien ship with flashlights (we were taken down to the school boiler room and its dirty passages - anyone else remember that freaky place?) Luckily our bravery in confronting the Romulans earned us a pizza break back in the school library. Good times Vic! Thanks again, Jarad

Gary Continues on the History of the Space Center.

Thanks Gary for another awesome post on Space Center history. You're remember things I'd long forgotten. Anyone else out there want to chime in with your Space Center story? Send them in so every can enjoy.
Mr. Williamson

And Now Gary's Post:

As I sit at think over lunch break, my mind wanders back in time... before grad school, before my first "real job," before getting married and having kids, before BYU, before my LDS mission... all the way back to when I was a kid and the Space Center captured my imagination (and it's been holding onto it ever since). But why reminisce silently when I can invite you all along my trip down memory lane with me? Buckle up for some more old timer recollections.

The first time I held a "command position" was at an overnight mission where my friend and I were by far the most senior campers. We both had 14 hours under our belt (this was probably our third or fourth visit to the Space Center) and everyone else only had 2 from a single field trip. Normally, you'd think that we'd use our seniority to become Captain and First Officer, but we had other plans. We wanted to fire the guns! So my friend and I sat quietly while an inexperienced kidlet was chosen to be captain, then we signed up for the Left Wing (or was it Right?... anyway, it had the torpedoes!).

This inexperienced captain floundered quite a bit, and it became obvious that he'd always turn to us for advice, so eventually Vic paused the mission and graciously gave the poor kid a chance to step down as captain if he wanted. He jumped at the chance, and then Vic turned to us and asked if we wanted the job instead.

"14 hours?!?" he said when we told him how many missions we'd run before. "Why didn't you volunteer to be captain earlier?" he asked with a dumbfounded look on his face. I wanted to explain "C'mon, the TORPEDOES!" but I figured it wasn't worth the effort of explaining how my 12-year old mind worked. Thus, my friend became captain and I became first officer.

Having been to the Space Center several times before that, I'd always eyed the Captains Lounge jealously. Now I'd get to sleep up there! It had big bean bag chairs, which were nice, but the crown jewel was a Super Nintendo! I always wanted to sleep up there so I'd have a chance to play around with it.

How naive I was. As the readers of this blog all can attest, when you're in the middle of an overnight camp, the LAST thing you think about when you're sent off to bed is video games. We stayed up as long as we could talking and planning strategy for tomorrow's gripping continuation of the mission. I wouldn't be surprised if that old Nintendo crumbled to dust with disuse... video games just can't compare with the Space Center experience.

The next morning was wonderful! It felt so great to be woken by the soft music of the Star Trek Voyager theme song.

Fast forward to my next overnight mission... in a bunk by sick bay, woken to the shrill whistle blowing of Admiral Schuler announcing bunk inspections in 2 minutes and breakfast in 3.

Those were different times... the "Outland Corp" era for those who remember... an alternate reality in which the Federation was Defeated by the Borg in the "Best of Both Worlds" episode.

Gotta love the Borg... gotta love Admiral Schuler. My ears are still ringing.

Gary Gardiner
Old Timer Space Center Cadet :)

And Now Something for our Teacher Friends

The Ups and the Downs. It's all Part of the Journey

Ever feel like the picture above? Our Monday at the Space Center was much like it on a smaller scale. I got up - chaos - then went to bed. Thank goodness for great people. Thanks to everyone that helped us all get through one of those 'bump' in the road days.

Life is a journey. It has a start and an end. All that bit in between is the essence of who and what we are. Make good decisions. Do the right thing and trust all will be well.

Let me share something that helps me through those tough days we all have. I know its a bit religious, but for me, faith makes an excellent shock absorber and an awesome bumper :)

Have a Great Day Everyone and thanks for your continued support. I'll see you on the road.

The Troubadours and Summer's Last Performance

The wagons creaked on the uneven road as our band of troubadours journeyed home to the Shire. Lazy clouds of white and gray took their turn hiding the sun from view. The coming night cooled the warm autumn afternoon. I pulled my cloak closer for warmth. Our company would soon be settling into the castle for the short days and long nights of winter.

It was a good summer’s season. Our last performance was on Friday in a hamlet who’s name is already forgotten. Lady Emily and her company of well rehearsed troubadours performed, giving our troupes of travelling story merchants and musicians an evening of rest before the journey home. The night air overflowed with joy, laughter, music and screams. I watched from a distance, hidden by the canvas of my tent, taking joy in the knowledge that this company of troubadours had the skill and training to carry a performance without my direction.

In the midst of what someone who happened to stumble unawares behind stage would perceive as chaos, stood our Lady Emily, giving direction to both actor and musician. Each direction was accepted and implemented with skill, making what appeared to the assembled villagers a seamless tale of heroism and daring.

And then, surprise. Our troubadours did something not seen on our stages for over fifteen years. They directed the performance out of the tent and into the village itself. I was reminded of the times when, as a young troubadour, I did the same for one, perhaps two seasons then stopped. I don’t remember the reasons.

At the end, the villagers awarded our troubadours with applause. True thanks were given for an evening never to be forgotten. After the hamlet settled into their beds for a long night, our company took down the tent, put away the instruments and costumes and gathered around the fire for dinner and talk.
“Didest Thou see the cat that crossed our path so boldly?” Master Wyatt spoke. The golden orange of the fire colored his face and the faces of his fellows. “The owner was not to be found.”

“And what dids’t thou do? Thou tookest the animal as thine own.” Several laughed at Master Adam’s words.
“Wyatt, is this true, the words I hear?” I asked from the shadows. I moved into the firelight and found a log to rest my weary self upon.
“Tis true Master,” he announced with a pride so true as to paint a blush across a maiden’s face. “And I care not who hears!”

“I care, so guard thy tongue in the telling of your tales,” I cautioned while pointing to the younger members of our troupe. There was shock in their faces that I would take offense in the telling of such an innocent tale. I let my countenance darken the mood for a moment, then broke into laughter, bringing relief and cheers from our circle of comrades.

“And that is a Master at work,” Lady Emily said. “He draws you one direction, only to turn the tale unexpectedly towards another.”

The ladies Aleta, Lorriane and Shiela prepared meat for our last night as wanderers. It was an unexpected respit from our daily diet of bread with butter with porridge. A meal filling yet makes for poor company.

“Our last night under the stars needed to be marked with a feast,” Lady Aleta exclaimed . “It was to be fish, but a farmer bought his tickets with chickens.” The youngest in our troupe sat around the cook fire and watched the chickens roast. The smell was rich for the nostrils and brought moistness to the mouth.

“Back ye rats of the Forest deep. Back into the shadows from whenst thou came,” Lady Shiela appeared from the darkness with broom in hand sending the youngsters scattering in all directions.

It was a night of good food, good company and little sleep.

And now we have been several hours on the dusty road. I looked behind my wagon into the faces of our troupe as they walked steadily onward in the direction of the setting sun. Twenty paces behind the slowest of the troupe walked Lady Emily hand in hand with Master Skyler. In a fortnight’s time the two will wed. The Lord of the Manor has ever so graciously given permission for the use of the Great Hall for the feast afterwords.


The celebration of a wedding marked the passage of time as our youngest performers grew each day in the cycles of the sun and moon. And then, as if stirred from a short sleep, I awake to find a child who just a moment ago was learning to pull a curtain and sing a simple song, now grown and tasting love’s sweet wine.

The sun rises and sets taking us ever onward through the seasons of life. It is a good life we live, troubadours in the service of our shire bringing joy and happiness into the lives of the people we serve.

“The castle!” a young voice shouted. I looked up and into the distance. A tower with flag was in sight. Soon we would be reintroduced to our long neglected beds.