"Insightful, instructive, and definitely worth the read."--Greg Andres, Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada "As someone who has been teaching a course on space exploration for many years and has visited most of NASA's space centers, I have found plenty of new and valuable material in To a Distant Day. . . . I recommend the book to all who wish to know more about the conditions, people, and discoveries between 1890 and 1960 that led to the space age."--Pangratios Papacosta, Physics Today Although the dream of flying is as old as the human imagination, the notion of rocketing into space may have originated with Chinese gunpowder experiments during the Middle Ages. Rockets as both weapons and entertainment are examined in this engaging history of how human beings acquired the ability to catapult themselves into space. Chris Gainor's irresistible narrative introduces us to pioneers such as Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, Robert Goddard, and Hermann Oberth, who pointed the way to the cosmos by generating the earliest wave of international enthusiasm for space exploration. It shows us German engineer Wernher von Braun creating the V-2, the first large rocket, which, though opening the door to space, failed utterly as the "wonder weapon" it was meant to be. From there Gainor follows the space race to the Soviet Union and the United States, giving us a close look at the competitive hysteria that led to Sputnik, satellites, space probes, and--finally--human flight into space in 1961. As much a story of cultural ambition and personal destiny as of scientific progress and technological history, To a Distant Day offers a complete and thoroughly compelling account of humanity's determined efforts--sometimes poignant, sometimes amazing, sometimes mad--to leave the earth behind.
(late Vice President of the United States,) for Treason, and for a Misdemeanor, in Preparing the Means of a Military Expedition Against Mexico, a Territory of the King of Spain, with Whom the United States Were at Peace
The protagonists of "Skeleton in the Sope House" have carried out numerous missions for the royal intelligence service. In 1527 they are sent on a mission to the court of the Mughal emperor Babur in Delhi. They are ordered by KIng Henry VIII to obtain a trade agreement which will weaken the Portuguese trade monopoly in the East. They travel across north India and obtain the agreement. Before they can get it home they are betrayed by Babur's son Kamran. They are captured by the Portuguese and condemned to slavery for life on a pepper plantation. With the help of their servants they escape in a native boat and eventually return to England. Once home they discover that Wolsey is dead and replaced by Thomas Cromwell. They are shocked by the corruption associated with the King's divorce and the dissolution of the monasteries; they resign from the royal service.
In 1890, Anton Chekhov, already a prominent Russian literary figure, travelled 6,500 miles to Sakhalin island, off the coast of Siberia. Willing visitors to this island were rare; rather, its inhabitants were people who had been sent there: prisoners and their families, guards, soldiers, and doctors. What was it that Chekhov sought on this terrible island? Almost a century later, James McConkey traveled to Italy and researched Chekhov's letters, memoirs, and an account of his journey to Sakhalin island. McConkey recreates that journey, weaving it with his own and telling two stories that reveal the peculiar and hidden forces that shape our lives.
Challenges in the Waste Disposal Supply Chain in Bangalore, India
Author: Chuck Munson
Pubpsher: FT Press
Category: Business & Economics
800x600 This supply chain case study introduces Bangalore, India's lengthy, complex waste collection and management process, and the primary responsibility of BBMP and associated contractors. It focuses on the role of the waste pickers, whose willingness to effectively sort and segregate waste is crucial to the system's success. Readers understand the drivers of Bangalore's waste management problems, review supply chain stakeholders, assess opportunities for improvement and integration, and identify potential roles for NGOs. Focusing on realistic issues, this case study offers exceptional value to both students and practitioners. Authors: M. Ramasubramaniam and P. Chandiran, both from Loyola Institute for Business Administration.
We were riding on top of the world. We were two women in our fifties and we probably should have been anywhere other than where we were at that moment. The scenery was spectacular, but I was beginning to wonder if it was worth dying for . . . literally. The loose rocks and tight switchbacks had cost us precious time. This was not a place we wanted to get caught after dark. Edie and I rode in silence as we negotiated the treacherous footing. We had known we would face danger on this ride, but I had never envisioned anything like the scenario we were currently dealing with. My senses seemed cross wired. At a time when I should have logically been bordering on panic, I found myself engulfed in an eerie sense of calm. Fear was a luxury we couldn’t afford at the moment. If we got off this mountain alive, there would be plenty of time to be scared as we recalled the ordeal. The trail was incredibly narrow. The climb had been steep and rugged. We would reach an altitude in excess of seven thousand four hundred feet as we rode the crest of Mt. Francis. On our immediate left, a sheer rock wall rose vertically with occasional outcroppings that jutted into the trail. Our knees, at times, rubbed the craggy rock face. A glance to the right brought no comfort. A severe drop off afforded us a view of the tops of trees, hundreds of feet below. We were riding on a trail that was no more than a narrow ledge on the face of the mountain. For some reason known only to them, both horses insisted on walking along the extreme outer edge of the trail. They seemed to feel more comfortable on the edge, rather than being crowded by the wall. Both Edie and I found ourselves sitting off center and leaning slightly toward the wall. If our horses lost their footing, we hoped to be able to jump clear of them and land on the trail. A lump the size of a softball threatened to choke me each time I heard a piece of the trail crumble beneath our horse’s feet, sending rock and dirt tumbling over the edge. We had reached a point of no return. We had no idea what lay ahead of us . . . there was no way to turn around . . . no way to back the horses out of where we were . . . and at this point, dismounting was a physical impossibility due to the close proximity of the rock face and the narrow width of the trail. We both knew that we were in a potentially life threatening situation. If a cougar or a snake spooked the horses, we would all have a one way ticket to the rocky bottom of the canyon far below. That gruesome thought was still in my mind when our bad situation grew decidedly more complicated. As I focused on the trail ahead, my mind rejected what my eyes could clearly see. Thirty feet ahead of us, the trail simply disappeared! All I could see beyond that point was air . . . and lots of it. I wondered if Edie, who rode only a few feet behind me, saw what I saw . . . She did.