Green Bank, West Virginia 1971

It was ironic and appropriate. John Denver was singing, "Dark and dusty, painted on the sky," as Albert drove into this pristine, blue sky valley, with air so free of radio frequency interference that it had been chosen as the site for the national center for radio astronomy. "Take me home, country roads," was appropriate. Since leaving Staunton, Virginia in mid morning, the highway, US 250, had gone from a paved, gradually up hill climb, to a torturous, winding dirt road, challenging his driving ability and the brakes on his four year old Mustang. Finally, he snaked his way to the top. He had driven from Philadelphia in the morning, stopping only briefly at Charlotte to check in, and his neck and arms were sore from the exertion.

When he'd told the guy pumping gas at the gas station where he was going, the local had replied, "Stay on the freeway, right here. Head south, then when you get to the West Virginia Turnpike, take that north."

"But, I'm going here." Albert pointed to Green Bank on the map, and US 250 from Staunton, going directly to it.

The guy just shrugged and said, "I wouldn't go that way."

Now, careening down the mountain with its long downgrades, followed by abrupt curves, he could feel his brakes fading as they overheated. A pall of panic came over him as he pushed hard on the brake and felt nothing but a slipping feeling under his foot as the car continued to accelerate. Thinking quickly, he shifted into a lower gear and listened as the engine revved beyond the breaking point. Somehow, his heart in his throat and his feet braced on the brake and floorboard, he made the next curve. The centrifugal forces had slowed the Mustang just enough so that he could slip it into low. Again, he heard the revs build up, but this time, he slowed noticeably, and the engine was holding the car on the grade. Two times before he made the valley floor, he slipped it into 2nd, only to have to drop it into low again as the Mustang surged forward, out of control. Only when he reached the flat valley floor, did he relax. Then, he drove slowly, testing the brakes, for a couple of miles before they cooled enough to come back. He vowed to himself that he'd drive that road again, but he was going to get his brakes checked at his first opportunity.

About 4 o'clock, Albert arrived at the reception center of the National Radio Astronomy Observatory, Green Bank, where he would work. It had taken a long time to reach this point.

Albert grew up in Northern Michigan. His father was a math and biology teacher at the local high school. He was hunting and fishing as soon as he could walk, and developed an abiding love for the savage beauty of the north woods. He only took game in season, and was appalled when so called hunters slaughtered animals illegally and without reason. The winter could be cruel, killing up to ninety percent of some species, but with the warm summer and a chance to reproduce, they bounced back. Man could be far crueler. Canadian geese and loons were rare on the lakes. Moose could only be found on Isle Royale, and the last wild elk was shot in Wisconsin in 1928. When he hunted, he constantly came across hawks and owls, killed with abandon. Game animals, too, were not immune. Their rotting bodies could be found in the woods in any season.

As a kid, he was caught up in the drama of the Space Race. With the help of a mail order chemistry set, he and his friends built and tested simple rockets. The chemicals they worked with were dangerous, but luckily, they didn't blow any hands off. At one point, Albert corresponded with the Central Wisconsin Rocket Society. But, since he or his friends didn't drive, he had no way of participating.

Two events, both late at night, had immense effect on him. One cold, forty below zero night in January, he had to walk from his grandparent's house home. It was about five miles on the road. He was dressed warm, and walking fast, so he was in no danger of freezing. Somehow in the cold of the dead of winter, the sky seemed larger and the air clearer. As he walked, bands of yellow, red, white, and blue, like curtains in the sky, slowly moved, formed, and reformed, in the sky above him, right before his eyes. His father had shown him "northern lights" before, but he had never seen anything like this. The sky fairly lit up with color. He felt the coldness and loneliness of outer space on that road, but there was no mistaking the heat and color of those lights in the sky. He had to know more than this.

When he got home, he didn't go to bed. With hot chocolate his mother gave him, he dragged out the family's worn Encyclopedia Britainnica. Soon, Albert was poring over the definition and pictures of "Aurora Borealis", a term new to his vocabulary, but not soon to be forgotten. He planned to report his find the next chance he got in school.

The second event was more profound. A couple of years later, he was camping with his friends under the trees by the river. It was a hot August night, and the air was stifling. Albert announced to his friends that they could catch a breeze on a nearby hilltop meadow, but they all laughed. Undaunted, he gathered up his sleeping bag, and headed for the hilltop alone. There was no moon, but it was a clear night and the stars seemed to provide enough light so that he could follow a cow trail to the top. When he got there, he looked around for a clear, grassy spot to put his sleeping bag down. The hill was a pasture, and he didn't want to lie down on any cow poop. Right at the crest, by an obvious trail that he imagined Indians traversing above the river for hundreds of years, he lay his sleeping bag down.

There was no use sleeping inside the bag. It was too hot. Mercifully, it was also too hot for the mosquitoes, and they'd retreated. Lying on his bag, he soon had pulled off all his clothes. A slight breeze touched his nakedness. He was finally comfortable. He started to think of girls he liked, wishing they were here with him. But he was too shy. And, they would be shocked seeing him naked like this.

He turned his attention to the canopy of stars above him. It seemed closer than ever before. He knew some of the constellations, but he wasn't interested in them now. The bright points were close. It seemed like he could reach up and touch them. There were so many, they seemed uncountable. Then, between those points, cloudlike light appeared. Looking closer at the clouds, they appeared to be made of many stars too. A shudder ran through him. He felt so insignificant in the face of such vastness. He knew the sun was just one of those myriad stars displayed before him. Were there others, like him, on distant planets revolving around those stars, lying on hilltops looking back at him? For all of his schooling, he didn't know. He decided to become an astronomer.

Straight A grades in science and math in high school and a little pull from his father, a graduate, got him into Cornell. Far from home, he fought homesickness for his beloved north woods, and dove into the books. He graduated, in basic science with honors, four years later. His love for science was vast. So, when he got a fellowship from MIT, he put together a graduate program that combined a master's degree in biosciences, and a doctorate in astronomy. After reading Carl Sagan's books, he was convinced that understanding and searching for extraterrestrial life should be his life work. He applied for a postdoctoral research associate position at Green Bank. Now, here he was, far away from his humble origins, about to embark on work at the cutting edge of science. He felt an excitement and anticipation that hardly could be contained.

Esther Caudill had also come a long way. Her father, Harvey, was a southern West Virginia coal miner. When Esther was seven, Harvey was injured in the mine. It took him six months to recover from his injuries, but he never recovered his job. He had died four years earlier. All Esther had left was her aging mother, April. April was still living in that ramshackle shack on the side of the mountain near Logan. It was April who urged Esther to get an education. Harvey was too bitter to encourage her much, but he did provide a model for what not to do. With scholarships, grants, and working her way, she got a degree in sociology from Bluefield State. She started with the hope of being able to study the resiliency of Black coal miners, who worked the dangerous narrow seams on their backs, and ended up looking for any job she could get. When she learned about the office assistant job at Green Bank, a three hour drive from her home, she applied, never thinking that she'd get it. When she was asked to come and interview, all expenses paid, she was pleasantly surprised. She borrowed her cousin's car and drove, non stop, to and from the interview, afraid of how the locals would treat her if she stopped. She got lost twice, and was relieved when strangers helped her get back on the right road. The per diem she got in advance helped April pay some bills. A month later, after two other candidates backed out, not wanting to live in such a remote place, Esther was shocked to learn that she'd landed the job.

That was three years ago. She borrowed her cousin's car again, packed her only suitcase and two boxes with all of her belongings, and moved to Elkins, an hour drive from Green Bank. She left at 4 o'clock in the morning that Saturday with a full tank of gas. By 8 AM, in spite of a few bad turns, she was sitting in a cafe in Elkins, reading the ads in the paper. She was the only Black in the place, and the other customers were eyeing her suspiciously. She worried that she wouldn't find a place when she saw it, "Upstairs room for rent. Clean. Young lady welcome."

She hurried over to 313 Elm Street. The kindly old lady who greeted her seemed to be colorblind. Mrs. Harper showed her the room and the bathroom in the hall, then invited her to sit for tea and cookies in the parlor. When they had finished, Esther went out to the car and moved upstairs.

Her job was easy. Under the kind direction of the Director, she was made responsible for all correspondence and communication with Charlotte. She kept files for the scientists, and greeted all comers to the Reception Center. Except for occasional visits from NSF officials from Washington, and tours by groups from universities and clubs who had prior reservations, it was pretty quiet, routine work. She took to it easily. The two church dresses and her graduation outfit she brought with her were the only things she had to wear to work. She started by buying some clothes.

After two months, Esther bought her cousin's car. He was happy to take the money and get rid of it. She bought some suits from a church resale shop, and recut and sewed them to fit her form. She was skinny, some said scrawny, and, with her long legs, seemed taller than she was. In college, she'd run on the track team. Instead of the sprints, she was most suited for distance, and ran a respectable mile. Now, regular meals and Mrs. Harper's cooking were filling her out. She loved to dance, but quickly learned, that in Elkins she'd have to be careful where she went. She found herself going back home on the weekends. There, she could dance with friends and relatives at the local juke joints without worry.

The best part was that she was able to help her mother. She saved a portion of each weekly pay check and either sent or took some to April. Recently, after nursing that old car and getting ripped off by local repair shops, she stopped by the local Chevy dealer to look, and ended up coming home with a new, sky blue Monte Carlo. With most of her savings, and the loan supplied by the aggressive salesman, she would own it, free and clear, in three years. When she brought it home, her mother was shocked. But she suddenly became popular with all the shiftless dudes, who hung around as if she'd let them drive her around in it. She had better plans. She started taking business classes at night at Davis and Elkins College, and working on her image.

Afros, bell bottoms, platform shoes, and leisure suits were all the rage, but she felt uncomfortable with that. Mrs. Harper, the wife of a former professor at Davis and Elkins, and a woman of considerable respect in the community, introduced Esther to her beauty salon and dress shop. Gradually, by saving and putting things on layaway until she could pay, Esther was able to retire those stodgy suits and put together a professional wardrobe. She liked satin and silk blouses with blazers, and complementing skirts. With the help of the salon, she had her hair straightened and rolled, so that she could keep it shoulder length. Unlike most sisters, she shaved her legs and enjoyed wearing fine stockings. She bought low heels for work, but learned to walk in high ones for the times she dressed up. Before long, she insisted on buying matching bras and panties. Buying from catalogs, something her mother taught her, helped her with that. Except for her Mom, Mrs. Harper, and the ladies at the dress shop, no one ever knew. Most of the scientists couldn't care less how they looked, but she felt that she had to make a good impression with the public.

And she did. She started getting compliments, and occasional gifts from unexpected quarters. It was at those visits from the NSF that she began to shine. The Director started taking her to Washington with him on fundraising trips. She started wearing shorter skirts.

It was Tuesday morning. Esther laid out her red bra and bikini panty set on the bed, then a light blue blouse, her navy blue blazer with the gold crest, some dark blue nylons, and first a white, then a beige, skirt. She put on the bra and panties, then, in the full length mirror Mrs. Harper had given her, she checked out the combinations. Feeling frisky, she chose the white skirt. It was shorter. Then, she took the light blue blouse back to the closet and got her crimson one out. She'd be very patriotic today. She smiled to herself, then headed to the bathroom. She was brushing her teeth when Mrs. Harper poked her head in. "Got some fresh cinnamon rolls waiting for you this morning. My! Don't you look nice! Don't let those wolves see you like that, they'll carry you off!"

Mrs. Harper was always carrying on like that. Still, all those compliments did make her feel better, even if young men weren't beating a path to her door. She put on her garter belt and nylons, checked the seams in the mirror, then slipped on the blouse, skirt, and shoes. With her blazer under her arm, she headed downstairs to the aroma of hot cinnamon and vanilla. After rolls and coffee with Mrs. Harper, and a look at the local news on TV, she headed back upstairs for a little makeup and crimson lipstick to match her blouse. She was on her way.

The drive to Green Bank was long, but pleasant, except in Winter when the snow could be heavy or there could be ice. Today, it was especially nice as the morning sun flickered through the leaves and put a sparkle on the stream following the road. Esther felt good in the outfit she'd picked, driving her new, new smelling car through these beautiful hills and valleys. She cruised uphill with ease. She felt lucky.

Albert saw the sign marking his destination, turned in, and drove the short distance to the Reception Center. There were only three cars on the rather large lot. One of them was a shiny new blue Monte Carlo. The other two were looked like government issue. In the distance, he could see the low lying residences of the scientists who lived and worked here. He assumed that was where he'd stay.

He bounded up the steps to the door. Already, he was impressed by the peacefulness of this place. Albert opened the door and was greeted by a rather large room. A beautiful Black woman, sitting at desk in the middle, beyond the waiting area, rose to greet him. "Hi, you must be Dr. Repaul. We've been expecting you. It's too late to catch the Director, he's left for the day. I'll get you checked in, then show you around if you like. I'm Esther. If you have any questions, just ask me." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

She produced a stack of forms for him to review and sign, Observatory regulations, vacation and sick leave policy, insurance and retirement, and the like. Albert sat down at a nearby table, read them hurriedly, and signed where required. His mind was somewhere else.

"Finished already?" Esther queried, looking over his shoulder.

"Yes, it's more of the same old stuff." Albert was used to paperwork. He'd been through two or three trees worth in his short career. "I am interested in that tour, though." He smiled up at her and handed her the forms.

Esther locked the door behind them as they left the building. "We'll be taking the International," she said.

The International was a government green Carryall, one of the vehicles in the lot. It was a diesel. Diesel engines were used around the radio telescopes because any spark, like those from spark plugs, could interfere with the sensitive listening devices in the telescopes. Esther opened the driver's side, hopped up on the Spartan vinyl seat, and leaned over to unlock the door for Albert. Their eyes met at close range. The feeling was electric. The feeling was mutual.

Regaining her composure, Esther straightened up in her seat, and cranked up the International. Its four seats made it seem like a bus, and the loud rattle from its engine disturbed the quiet. It seemed strange that the telescopes were more disturbed by silent sparks than by that raucous sound. She was quite flushed, hoping he couldn't see how red-faced she was. She turned out of the lot and down the long road to the telescopes. She didn't say anything. She just smiled and held her breath a bit until she reached the first telescope and had to say something. "This is our 85 foot telescope, where Dr. Drake has been conducting Project OZMA."

Albert knew Drake and OZMA well. Drake was his astronomy professor at Cornell. It was from Drake and Sagan that he got his interest in studying intelligence and life in outer space. As Sagan often stated, outer space was filled with "... billions and billions of stars." If only a small percentage of these stars had planets, and ... if only small percentage of these planets had life, and ... only a small percentage of this life was intelligent, ... then intelligent life was still abundant, ... only "very, very ... far," apart. But that wasn't what was on Albert's mind right now.

As Esther smiled and gave her spiel, practiced from many tours like this, Albert was engrossed with her skirt, naturally riding higher as she shifted the beast and the muscles of her long legs as she clutched to shift--poetry in motion. She saw him looking, and her cheeks grew redder under the light coating of rouge she'd applied that morning. She was so drawn in by his blue eyes and blonde hair, his obvious intelligence, and cavalier attitude. She was beginning to have fun. So, she and the Carryall rattled on, while he smiled and nodded, oblivious to what she was saying, but eager to watch her say it.

"Oh, excuse me, it's almost 5:30. I usually leave at five. I forgot to tell you that we don't have any accommodations on site right now. Dr. Stewart offered to take you in, but his two kids are a couple of hellions and you'd have to sleep in their room because the guest room doubles as his study and it's stacked to the ceiling with papers. You can stay in town at the Dew Drop Inn. Don't worry about the name, it's a Best Western motel where VIPs stay when they come. What's your pleasure?"

Albert knew exactly where she was coming from. "I think I'll take my chances with the Drop Dead Inn." He was in a light mood now with her in the driver's seat.

"Okay, that's done. You can ride with me. It's a long drive but pleasant this time of year." They were heading back into the parking lot. Esther pulled up alongside her car, and they got out. "Don't worry about your stuff in your car here, it's safe. Just take what you'll need for tonight."

Albert got out his suitcase and briefcase. He traveled light. All of his few possessions were in that car. He wasn't worried about losing them. He wasn't sure why he took the briefcase. Force of habit, he guessed. He knew he wasn't going to open it. He pulled his side of the seat forward, and tossed them onto Esther's back seat. When he slid in, she was selecting an 8-track tape to slip into the stereo.

What a contrast. From the rattle of the International to the smooth shifting power of the Monte Carlo's V8, accompanied by soul renditions from "The Best of Motown", featuring The Jackson Five and the Supremes. The curves melted away as Esther drove, down valley, into the evening sun. Albert relaxed, knowing that she knew every glitch in the road, and there'd be no brake fading on this trip. He just sat back, enjoying the changing scenery, the music, and his beautiful host. She kept checking on him, sensing his sense of approval, and smiling to herself. In forty five minutes, they arrived in Elkins.

The Dew Drop Inn was just as Esther had described, a delightfully clean little place, with all the amenities. After dropping his bags in the room, Esther suggested that they eat in a little cafe she knew around the corner. First, she called Mrs. Harper and told her not to worry because she was escorting someone new from the Observatory and would be late. Then, they walked a couple of blocks to the very same cafe, Esther explained, that she'd stopped in her first fearful morning in town.

While they ate the "meat loaf special" Esther confessed that she was playing hooky from cost accounting class that evening. But, she didn't want him to worry. The course was so slow, she'd have no trouble keeping up.

It was 8 o'clock when they got back to Albert's room. When Albert came out of the bathroom, Esther was sitting on the bed, her blazer and shoes off, flipping through channels on a remote. "They've got cable," she said. "Reception is poor here in the mountains. Would you like to watch a sex movie with me?"

Albert was in no position to argue. He nodded,"okay," and plunked himself down on a side chair next to the bed, his ears a little red. They had missed the title, but the long legged blond heroine went from adventure to adventure, showing as much of her pink panties as she could, defeating every bad, evil man she met. He kept glancing over at the long legged beauty in his room, and found her engrossed in the action, hugging a pillow and squirming a bit every time the heroine used her sexual prowess to put men down.

When the movie was over, she swung her legs off the bed and sat facing him. Her skirt had slid up so that her red panties were showing. Her eyes were big as saucers. Albert had to force himself to look into them to keep from staring between her legs. "Wow! I couldn't believe that. I heard that they had sex movies here, but I never saw one before. She is so beautiful. I wish I could be like that!"

Albert was grateful that she'd picked that movie, rather than one of those that demeaned women. He was both shocked and pleased to be the one Esther chose to see her first R-rated movie with.

She hopped up from the bed and went looking for her shoes. She flashed him a couple of times, imitating the girl in the movie, as she bent down and picked them up, one at a time, then returned to the bed, putting each on in a way he'd seen topless dancers do in clubs. "Well, what do you think?" She was smiling from ear to ear.

"Of , ... what?" Albert was unsure of what to say.

"Of my panties! I've been dying to show them to someone, ... and well, the movie .... Look! They match my bra!" She lifted her crimson blouse, revealing her matching red bra.

"They're ahh, ... well, .... very nice." Albert was at a loss for words.

That was all Esther needed. She stood up and let her skirt fall back into place, turned around, picked up her blazer and put it on with a flourish, then walked over to the dresser to get her purse. "I'll pick you up at seven. We'll have breakfast together at the cafe, okay?"

Albert rose to see her out. They met at the door. It seemed like they'd been on a date. She leaned forward, her eyes searching his. He kissed her. It was wonderful. He stood in the doorway until she waved from her car, pulling out. He had a hard time going to sleep. He couldn't wait until the morning when he'd see her again.