50 years ago, Sputnik changed the way we view world

Fifty years ago today, a shiny metal sphere soared into the heavens and started orbiting the Earth.

The world would never be the same.

Americans reacted to the successful launch of Sputnik, the world's first artificial satellite, with a mixture of wonder and fear.

Many viewed Sputnik as a thrilling, awe-inspiring case of science fiction-turned-fact. Those who before could only dream of space travel now had concrete evidence that it was actually possible.

But Sputnik spurred dark thoughts, as well. It had been sent into space by the former Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War. Many wondered if the next thing the Soviets launched would be a nuclear weapon.

"It seemed to give the Russians a leg up," said Don York, a professor of astronomy at the University of Chicago who was 13 when the Sputnik news broke. "Back then, that was quite a blow."

Sputnik-inspired awe and fear prompted changes across American society.

The federal government quickly ramped up its own efforts to explore space, leading to the creation of NASA and the successful Apollo program, which put the first person on the moon.

Educators called for more rigorous math and science training, while many Americans felt a patriotic duty to study science and help the U.S. surpass its Communist rival in the race for intellectual and technological supremacy.

"Back then, studying physics felt like a matter of serving your country," York said. "It wasn't something we talked about, it was just a feeling we all shared."

Those who lived through the Sputnik era say its influence can still be felt, from the continued existence of NASA to the explosion of technology in everyday life.

And while the space race and the Cold War may be history, many people who watched and listened to Sputnik fly overhead still cling to the hopes that the 184-pound satellite instilled in them 50 years ago.

Always a stargazer

Hanover Park resident Karen Mermel actually got hooked on space before Sputnik launched. Her father worked as a superintendent of beaches and pools for the Chicago Park District, and Mermel spent many evenings with him on the beach, gazing up at the stars and wondering what it would be like to fly among them.

"It was tough, being into space as a girl back then," Mermel said. "There really weren't many of us around. You had to keep it quiet."

Sputnik changed all that. Suddenly, people couldn't wait to talk space with Mermel, who was 15 at the time.

"Overnight, I'd become some kind of expert," she said with a laugh.

Mermel recalls being overcome by mixed feelings when the news broke about Sputnik. The space junkie part of her couldn't have been more thrilled. But she also wished that America, not the Soviet Union, had been the country doing the launching.

Like most people of her generation, Mermel remembers the safety drills she had to do in school to prepare for a nuclear attack -- the whole "sit on the floor with your head tucked between your legs" bit. A successful Soviet satellite launch added to the anxieties of the day, she said.

But as the U.S. cranked up its own efforts to conquer space, Mermel noticed that fear was being replaced by hope.

"As our space program got going, it took that scary feeling away," she said. "We stopped worrying about the bad things they might do, and focused on the wonderful things we'd soon be able to do."

Mermel's interest in space did not wane as she grew up. She joined the National Space Society, a not-for-profit group that lobbies for continued space exploration, in the 1970s. She has testified before Congress about the need for space travel, and continues to attend the annual International Space Development Conferences, the space society's main gathering, when she can.

Today, Mermel works as a project manager/consultant for corporations. And she's still spreading the word about space travel.

"After Sputnik, I desperately wanted to see us develop a space program that would allow people to live away from Earth," Mermel said. "That's still my dream."

Taking to the skies

Like many 10-year-old boys in 1957, Dave Koch had often thought how cool it would be to fly a plane, or better yet a rocket, when he grew up.

Then Sputnik turned childish daydreams into concrete career plans.

"Sputnik was a huge moment for me," Koch said. "I remember all the guys at school couldn't stop talking about it. It really reinforced where I was going."

Koch, who grew up in Merrillville, Ind., and now lives in St. Charles, realized the plane part of his dream when he became a pilot for United Airlines in 1968. In the late 1970s, he nearly lived the rocket part, as well.

"There was a time when United had a chance to run the shuttle program for NASA," Koch said. "I had pushed hard for United to get involved with the program, and so I was able to go through space shuttle training. It was an incredible experience."

United's efforts to take control of the shuttle program eventually fizzled out, and Koch retired in 1990. But that hasn't kept him from trying to reach the stars, or at least from making it possible for others to do so.

Today, he remains active in the aerospace field as a consultant. He works with the Icarus Society, an aviation think-tank sponsored by Northwestern University's Transportation Center, on the need for an "aerospace plane," an aircraft that could reach orbit and travel the globe at supersonic speeds.

"It's vitally important that we develop the ability to leave the planet," Koch said. "Right now, humanity has all its eggs in one basket. There are so many threats to this planet, to us as humans. This is about the survival of the human race.

"Sputnik imbued this country with a sense of urgency about space flight. I hope that it won't be too long before we get that back."

'Beep, beep, beep'

Jeffrey Liss remembers hearing that sound, the otherworldly beeping that came from Sputnik as it flew overhead.

The beeps were broadcast on television and radio news programs over and over following the launch. Liss said the strange sound was emblematic of the mystery surrounding Sputnik.

"People felt scared and vulnerable at first," the Winnetka resident said. "The Russians had been so secretive about the whole thing. People wondered whether ballistic missiles would be the next thing launched."

Three months after Sputnik, the U.S. successfully launched Explorer I, a lightweight science satellite. The country, Liss says, breathed a sigh of relief.

"It was a huge morale boost," he said. "Sputnik had really been a wake-up call. We realized that we had work to do if we were to stay strong as a country, to maintain our place of leadership in the world.

"After Explorer, I felt like we were on the right track again."

Liss was a 14-year-old student at Chicago's Senn High School when Sputnik launched. A big science fiction fan, he'd been fascinated by space and futuristic worlds since his early elementary school days.

Today, when Liss isn't busy with his day job as a lawyer, he feeds his interest in space by writing articles and essays on the subject for science magazines. He's also had five science fiction short stories published.

Like other space junkies, he hopes that Americans will get excited about space travel once again, the way people were in the immediate aftermath of Sputnik.

"We have to keep pushing at frontiers," he said. "I'd compare it to the discovery of the New World and the American West. If we don't, we'll wither away."

Sputnik celebration

The Adler Planetarium in Chicago will host a special public event today to mark the 50th anniversary of Sputnik.

What: Sergei N. Krushchev, son of former Soviet Premier Nikita Krushchev, who oversaw the Sputnik program, and Roger Launius of the Smithsonian's National Air and Space Museum will discuss Sputnik and the space race.

When: 7 p.m. today

Where: Thorne Auditorium, Arthur Rubloff Building, Northwestern University -- Chicago campus, 375 E. Chicago Ave., Chicago

Tickets: $15 ($10 for students, $8 for Adler and WTTW Channel 11 members)

More information: (312) 922-7827 or www.adlerplanetarium.org