Voyagers in the Heavens

At Lowell Observatory on Mars Hill, Flagstaff, the Universe is under close observation. Here Pluto was found.

On the 18th of February in 1930, a "fugitive" was intercepted on his lonely flight through the far outer reaches of the universe.

He was an elusive individual who had escaped detection during some 25 years of intensive, penetrating, but at times disappointing search, a search rendered laborious and ineffective because of illsuited instruments. A quarter of a century before that February night in 1930, an eminent American, Dr. Percival Lowell, skilled in celestial mechanics, had charted the trail of the "fugitive" and still he had wandered along that distant, lonely path, unmolested by the eye of man during the many long years.

But at last, in 1929, the search could be expectantly resumed, with a highly suited and powerful new telescope given by President A. Lawrence Lowell, of Harvard University, Percival's brother-and the "fugitive's" tracks were indeed soon detected by Clyde W. Tombaugh, whose good fortune it was to be assigned to the instrument and instructed in its use and the searching methods and technique. Still remained the exacting task of confirming the object as Lowell's Planet X, and night after night for several weeks all members of staff made use of its large telescopes and all means and methods in critically studying it at the Observatory high above Flagstaff, Arizona, and cautiously and quietly tracked down the "fugitive" along his yet uncertain path.

Then on March 13th came the startling announcement of the amazing discovery of the trans-Neptunian Planet X, the "outcast" of the solar family later named Pluto.

That announcement probably was the crowning jewel of a glittering array of astronomical achievements at Lowell Observatory, the center of the Earth's interplanetary relations atop "Mars Hill" high above Flagstaff. And it was delayed a few days in order that it might be made on March 13th the anniversary of the birth of Dr. Percival Lowell, brilliant astronomer who founded the observatory and who mathematically predicted the presence and launched the search in 1905 for the mysterious vagrant of the solar family.

In accordance with the usual custom whereby the discoverer of a new celestial body is entitled to propose its name, the observers at Flagstaff finally decided upon the name Pluto for Dr. Lowell's trans-Neptunian Planet X. A great many names were suggested, with Cronus and Pluto the most popular ones. Mythologically, there were good reasons for both. But Pluto is much better known and his two brothers, Jupiter and Neptune, already were in the heavens.

When these three brothers drew lots for the partition of the world, Pluto chose the outer regions. What then could be more appropriate than his now being in these outer regions, and being in the heavens with his two brothers?

One other major factor tilted the scales in favor of the name Pluto. It was decided the proper symbol would be the letters "PL" in the form of a monogram which would be easy to write, and to the layman would bring Pluto to mind.

And "PL" are Percival Lowell's initials, making the planet's symbol a loyal and timeless tribute to the brilliant American who found but never saw the planet.

The fruitful issue of Dr. Lowell's courageous exploration of the solar system beyond Neptune long has been the popular high light of his work and Lowell Observatory. But it is only one of the startling achievements of the world-famed observatory nestled atop a pine-studded hill in Northern Arizona.

"From time immemorial travel and discovery have called with strange insistence to him who, wondering on the world, felt adventure in his veins. The leaving familiar sights and faces to push forth into the unknown has with magnetic force drawn the bold to great endeavor and fired the thought of those who stayed at home. Spur to enterprise since man first was, this spirit has urged him over the habitable globe.

"Something of the selfsame spirit finds a farther field today outside the confines of our traversable earth."

Thus did Percival Lowell, in his book, "Mars and its Canals," tell of the spirit that first urged him and then later the famed members of Lowell Observatory's staff on the voyages "into the heart of the vast wilderness" that is the heavens.

Dr. Lowell inspired a tradition of intense interest in the problems of the universe, and independent and original thought in attacking them. And since his death in 1916 that tradition has been nurtured and kept alive unimpaired by three great astronomers who have become famed authorities throughout the astronomical world.

They have compiled an amazing record through the long years, a record distinguished not only for the exhaustive work and brilliant results but also for its originality and its fertile character in provoking extensive and successful astronomical researches.

So the story of Arizona's Lowell Observatory today is as much the story of three world-renowned men-Dr. V. M. Slipher, Dr. C. O. Lampland and Dr. E. C. Slipher as it is that of Dr. Lowell. The "strange enticement" of another world that lured him in fancy "across the depths of space" has burned no less intense down through the long years in his three great "disciples."

For nearly half a century these three men have toured the vast distances of the heavens, not in body but in mind. And their voyages beyond "a gulf more impassable than any sea" have produced a long and brilliant series of important discoveries and observations notable especially for originality of conception and technical skill. "Real the journey is, though incorporeal in kind," Dr. Lowell wrote of the "explorations." "Since the seeing strange sights is the essence of all far wanderings, it is as truly travel so the eye arrive as if the body kept it company."

Mars, the sanguine planet of the heavens and next-door neighbor of our own Earth, first enticed Dr. Lowell on exciting journeys across the "millions of miles of intervening matterless void." Through the years Mars has been the major target of observations at Lowell Observatory, but few, if any, heavenly bodies have escaped the piercing telescopes and searching minds sweeping the universe on innumerable "journeys" from the hill towering over Flagstaff.

In popular fancy, Mars is the intriguing fellow in the heavens. His legendary name as the God of War has achieved a vigorous response of the imagination in many for whom imagery is the essence of life. Invasions of the Earth by a Martian horde have been known to strike fear into the hearts and minds of gullible people, and imaginative tales of the men of Mars are too well known to gain little more than passing comment here.

One such incident is worthy of mention, however. In December, 1900, Dr. Lowell sent a telegram by the usual channels to the astronomical world, that the night before a projection (of light) had been observed on Mars that lasted seventy minutes.

It was immediately taken up by the public to mean an attempt by Martians to signal to the Earth, and as such was proclaimed all over America and Europe. That flight of the public into the realm of fantasy was "grounded" a year later by Dr. Lowell as he explained the cause of the excitement to the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia.

It was the reflection from a cloud on the horizon of the planet!

To the scientist Mars is a different character. To them his massive sphere of stone, iron, gas and other elements is far more exciting than the fanciful tales that have shrouded him in a mysterious aura in the minds of the imaginatives.

But Mars did live up to its name when, near the turn of the century, it was a battlefield of an astronomical debate. Arraigned on the one side was Percival Lowell, on the other a considerable portion of the more conservative astronomical world. The debate was waged

PAGE ONE OF ARIZONA HIGHWAYS FOR OCTOBER, 1947

OF STARDUST AND SIX-GUNS

There is a chill in the morning air and dawn is crisp and clear Someone tossed heaps of new and shining gold coins across the mountainside with the spendthrift's easy grace. Summer's leaves no longer green, cover the earth. From the earth they came. to the earth they return. They dance to the tune of the wind in the naked branches of the trees and the tune is the song of autumn Anyone can take a look and see that October is hanging around Our concern this month is with the season, with stardust and six-guns, spurs and a right merry hoedown known as the State Fair We examine stardust through the scholar's eye with the scientific knowledge gained from years of patient study by the learned men of Lowell Observatory at Flagstaff, one of the world's foremost centers of astronomical study. Here the presence of the planet Pluto was foreseen and here old Pluto finally checked in to take his rightful place in man's knowledge of the universe. Here, too, many of the mysteries of Mars were cleared up and the light of understanding has been shed on other puzzling questions of the Dark Night about and above. Les Hegele and Jerry McLain, two of the able hands working for the Arizona Republic in Phoenix, pooled their fine talents to present Lowell Observatory for us. We are also privileged to offer a spread of color studies by Dr. E. C. Slipher of some of our good neighbors in the universe. Any publication could be proud of these pictures. We express our appreciation to the staff of Lowell Observatory for their cooperation in making it possible for us to give vou "Voyagers in the Heavens."

There was feuding and fighting going on up in Pleasant Valley. north of Globe, in the Eighties. It was the old, old story of the western range: cattleman vs. sheepman, with no holds barred, no quarter asked. Blood flowed as freely as whiskey in that bitter, tumultuous era. Six-guns blazed on a wild frontier. When the smoke cleared and the firing was over, history received as its own the story of the West's deadliest feud. That story is told in this issue. It was written by the late Leslie E. Gregory of Gila County. who was a pioneer Arizona newspaper man, painstaking historian, careful writer, and a charming and gracious gentleman. Mr. Gregory did years of research on the Pleasant Valley War. From his vast treasury of notes he was preparing "Arizona's Haunted Walls of Silence" for us when he died. Our article was completed by Earle R. Forrest, author of "Arizona's Dark and Bloody Ground," book length account of the famed feud that belongs on every Western bookshelf. With this article we present some drawings by Ross Santee, the noted artist and author. If you should ever visit the editorial offices of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS you will find the walls decorated with Santee drawings, because Ross is our favorite artist. He's been busy the past couple of years doing a book for Scribner's. We'll tell you more about that when it comes out. In the meantime, we are very happy to have Ross back with us again. If you should come out our way in November, we cordially invite you to attend the State Fair in Phoenix. The folks in charge put on mighty fine shows and this year the show will be the best yet. R. C.

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