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"All This Fun, and a Paycheck, too?"
By Tom Clifford AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 Tom Clifford
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4918-2594-5
CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1.1 PREFACE
1.2 SCOPE
1.3 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
1.1 PREFACE
One of my darling granddaughters, Emma, a few years ago, asked: "So, grandpa, you were an engineer ... what all did you invent?" I had no convincing answer, at the time. Still don't. A bit later, I asked my youngest daughter, Teresa, then a biotech chemist and young mom: "If I were to write a book, would you read it?" "Maybe..... a book about what?" "Engineering ... my career. You know: really interesting and important things I've done in engineering". "Oh goody, a short book!.... Sure, I'll read it!....."
That clinched it! Readership! The idea of a book had been churning for years. Some of my reasons: I dearly love to talk, and to brag, and I'm Irish; and I'm getting old and I want to core-dump. I've written my share of resumes, so I should be good at it; Another reason is my attempt to counter some folks' feeling as they encounter a situation that they perceive as "technical": they immediately conclude that it's "boring" or "way over their heads" or both; and they shut down and sidestep any further contact with it. That's a shame and a great loss to all involved. I hope to present "technical" concepts and actions and accomplishments; as well as explaining typical engineering projects, in understandable terminology and context, to try to counter "boring and irrelevant". Further, I want to suggest to a wider audience, and especially to youngsters at the cross-roads, how an appreciation of scientific principles and critical thinking can enable a fun and fruitful life. Perhaps this book can offer inspirational anecdotes for parents, teachers, and guidance counselors.
Another reason: my wife, a dedicated genealogist, has been researching our distant and recent forbears. She has concluded that most of us know very little about what our ancestors and even fathers discovered or accomplished or even enjoyed. She has uncovered ancestors' actions, over the centuries, that made a difference then and even now. I want to record, in whatever media might be operative a hundred years from now, the lives and times of old great-great-grandpa Tom, with a personal touch, for any young-uns who might be similarly interested. I wish that I could have seen into the lives of my ancestors who struggled out of Ireland, and clawed their way west and south into Texas, as engineers, merchants, farmers, and teachers. Maybe this book can help. Another reason; some folks have no clue what we engineers actually do. Most of us don't just sit in a cube for 40 years. We bounce from research, to product development, to business start-up, to consulting; and back again, skipping from one industry and technology to another.... early specialties and school majors quickly becoming irrelevant.
I've enjoyed accomplishments of various sizes; some I've initiated and/or done myself, some as team leader or contributor. I have accumulated many patents and publications, and company attaboys, and some successful product launches and process developments. I've done my bit at the beginnings of space travel, and the birth of the microelectronics that enable today's personal-computer-based resources. I've racked up some dramatic failures and mistakes that taught me some useful lessons. I've recruited and mentored and I think helped many brilliant youngsters, learned a lot, and have enjoyed every minute of the ~ 50 years in my so-called career. I am convinced that some youngsters out there might enjoy a view into one man's world of engineering, might be inspired to do the same sort of thing. I am well aware that their future technologies and accomplishments will yield unimaginable products and resources and satisfactions, lurking now in the potential of these youngsters just starting out. So...... distant now, beyond any considerations of intellectual property and proprietary restrictions, blurred by time and a fading memory, amplified and embellished by Irish pub-Blarney, but trying to stick to the facts, I offer my personal engineering autobiography.
One apology, up front: I have tried to explain "technical" concepts and to minimize jargon; but I confess to an inability to recognize which concepts are "technical". I'll refer to "applesauce" without explanation, but might not think to explain "catalysis". I would certainly explain "epitaxial growth" (the basis of snowflake glory and the function of semiconductors) if I really had to include it in this book. I could use "melancholy" in context without explanation, but I might just go ahead and use "inertia", just as casually. When I explain the huge tides of the Bay of Fundy as an example of "resonance" on a massive scale, thinking I've offered a profound insight, I'll likely forget that "resonance" explains nothing, if "resonance" itself is considered "technical" and therefore meaningless. I would need to explain tuning forks and that some things just vibrate at their preferred frequency. Then I'd need to explain "frequency". Alas. I'll try to keep in mind that common sense, logic, and clear language is MUCH more powerful than in-group jargon, which ultimately is not really necessary. . A child's sense of wonder, rather than a jargon glossary, is key. I hope to show that a technical background ... or a recognition of physical principles .... can enrich that sense of wonder. It worked for me.
1.2 SCOPE
In the stories from vacations or school days, I've tried to include only stories with some technical content ... stories that illustrate basic engineering principles or viewpoints or job functions. My particular career path has led away from base-line chemical engineering (BS ChE, Texas Tech) into aerospace, electronics, manufacturing, management and consulting. That sort of drift is fairly common. Most engineers I know have experienced and/or chosen similar divergence. My particular experience has been in the world of heavy, wet, fragile or sticky physical objects; other engineers' experience can be in worlds of neurons, or quanta, or nano-particles, or enzymes, and the enabling software, but the point is the same: a solid technical background and that sense of wonder can open many doors to worthy pursuits.
1.3 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I thank my wife for forbearance, encouragement, and as in-house IT manager, for equipping the household with all the necessary digital tools and resources. I owe a debt to my colleagues who, over the many years, have made my career a big vacation, not a chore. Certainly I am indebted to friends and family who have, at my request, struggled thru early book drafts to give me much needed and appreciated corrective feedback. If you like the book, thank them. If you don't, blame me
CHAPTER 2
THE EARLY YEARS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
2.1 PAID INFORMER
2.2 MAN-MADE FLOODS
2.3 MELON SPRAY
2.4 FALCON DAM SURVEY
2.5 LAREDO FLOOD
2.6 SHRIMP BOAT AND FLYING FISH PHYSICS
2.7 GAS CHROMATOGRAPHY
2.8 FIRE AT THE SINCLAIR REFINERY
2.9 BENCH-SCALE TESTING
2.10 TEXAS TECH LAB TA
2.11 HS PAPER ON END-EFFECTORS
2.12 MODEL ROCKETS
2.1 PAID INFORMER. DEPUTY SPECIAL WATER MASTER For a long and memorable summer I worked as a Deputy Special Water-Master for the 93rd District Court, out of Mission, Texas, in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas. My job was to inspect the pumps along the river, to ensure that they were running or not running at that moment, complying with the farmers' respective permits.
The agreement, worked out between the governments of Mexico and the United States, was designed to ensure that every farmer could divert as much water as he needed, and asked for, and committed to pumping out of the river. He must divert water when he had said he wanted to, and must not divert water when he had agreed not to. Up-stream dam releases were keyed to those requested volumes of water. The agreements were documented in the permits. Do what you said you wanted to do. The objective, by treaty and common sense and courtesy, was to ensure that every farmer on both sides of the border along the river got what he needed; and that no, zero, nada, none of this rare and precious fresh water was to be wasted flowing into the salty Gulf of Mexico. And, conversely, that the river didn't get sucked dry upstream, leaving the lower farmers and their crops literally dying of drought. Water was and is gold. Water was released from upstream dams, the Falcon Dam and others (Fig 2.1.1), to satisfy the farmers' needs, and no more. Every drop must be asked for, and used, and accounted for, in distribution to agricultural or municipal systems.
Somebody must keep an eye on all this. Objective evidence was needed to ensure that all farmers were in the compliance with the permitted conditions. The 93rd District Court's Special Water Master was charged with this responsibility. His "Deputy", for one summer, me, made the rounds of all the farms, to check whether the big Waukeshas (diesel-powered pumps) were running, and water was spilling up into the irrigation channels, per their permits. It was fun then, and certainly remembered as fun, now. The "farms" were in fact agribusiness even back in 1958: horizon-to-horizon, curvature-of-the earth things, "La Casita Farms" "Puertos Plantations", etc. The crops were cotton, or watermelons, or cantaloupes or honeydews, or tomatoes. Big Caterpillar D-8s traversed the landscape: plowing or fertilizing/seeding, sporting horizontal booms a hundred feet wide, or pulling harvesters or wheeled packing sheds. I drove hundreds of miles a day on dusty or muddy paths thru the fields down to/from the pumps. I got stuck in mud many times, hollered at my agri-buddies on their huge Deeres, who tugged or shoved my old Ford out of muddy trouble, "no hay problema". Good training, and a sobering and maturing experience for an 18-year-old. I took and documented appropriate legal actions; got to write affidavits (Fig 2.1.2), appear in Court, present evidence and testimony in an authoritative posture wearing pressed go-to-church type clothes, and to be an element of important consequences.
This job revealed important business concepts and offered other perks. Besides learning about hoop and tensile strength, we saw distressing marketing and logistic principles at work. Oftimes it was appropriate for an agri-business facility to dump, not pack and ship, thousands of gorgeous melons (sale price $.25 then and $5 ea now, world-wide), but of less than zero value, then and there. The market was wrong, the condition of ripeness, the transport and distribution situation, the business model: all wrong.... Cheaper and better to plow them under or let them rot in the fields, than to harvest / pack / ship them. Long rows of ripe cantaloupes, honeydew, watermelons stretching to the horizon, phalanxes of D-8 Caterpillar tractors pulling 16-disc harrows plowing them under, to fertilize the earth to prepare for the next crop. This agribusiness imperative applied to tomatoes, also. Vine-ripe, juicy-ripe perfect tomatoes awaiting destruction, saltshaker in hand, gobbled with ravenous appetite. Completely wrong for the pack-and-ship world-wide market window (the harvesting while hard and green didn't happen), but heavenly at that moment. Shame to let them go to waste! Same sort of thing with perfect ripe watermelons, ahead of the approaching plow. Stab them with pocketknife just right, they pop open, exposing juicy center section, cut in for a sloppy bite or two of cool sweetness, then on your way to the big Waukesha/diesel pump station down by the river, clipboard in the other hand.
2.2 MAN-MADE FLOODS Besides: I got to see treaties and disasters in action ... One memorable situation arose when a flood alert was ignored by folks downstream. One year, in the late 50s, a big rainstorm up on the upper Rio Grande watershed caused run-off that filled the flood-control dams almost to capacity. A few months later, the remnants of a Gulf of Mexico hurricane, wet with rain, was headed for the same Texas / New Mexico watershed. Calculations were made, and it became clear that the projected massive run-off would overflow and possibly breach one or more of the dams. Water had to be released now, to provide the necessary flood-control safety volume. A massive man-made release is itself a "flood"; a predictable one, but very high and deadly water nonetheless. The Rio Grande would be at flood levels and would divert into the purposely-defined flood plains below Brownsville, mostly on the Mexican side of the border. Note, importantly, that these flood plains are some of the most fertile land on earth, for crops, and cattle; and a powerful and understandable magnet for good hardworking folks who wanted to feed and raise a family, landless otherwise. The alerts went out: "Evacuate! The flood is coming! The flood will be here (mathematically calculated by experienced hydrologists) in 60 to 72 hours!!!" from loud-speakers in Government trucks into cloudless skies. Leave now, take your kids and belongings; but sadly, you'll probably have to leave behind your tractors, cattle, houses (hand-built, but serviceable), farming tools, your children's livelihood and everything you've worked for, for the last many years. "Creo que no!" "I think not!" "There is no rain in sight, this flood is something created by politicians, to chase away us little farmers who worked hard here for years! We're not leaving. They call us "squatters"; they want our land!
The first big storm that ensued had serious techno-political elements, as you might expect. Hydrologists and meteorologists, statisticians and soils geologists in the glare of international politics and the free press, all recalculated, measured, and estimated flood level at specific points if certain diversion gates were opened or not, and dam releases were or were not increased. Essentially: how many stubborn folks in the flood plains would have to die, to reduce the probability that tens of thousands in Brownsville or Matamoras might die, if early releases were not made. The second storm was wet; the rains came and calculations continued, and dams were opened but were not breached. Evacuations were made and stubborn holdouts got wet, and a few folks didn't make it. Turns out the technical analyses and projections and options seemed to have been validated. The event focused needed attention on water-management public relations, property titles, communications, access roads, and better planning for these inevitabilities. Some had the courage to call it a success: the reluctant evacuation saved thousands of squatter's lives; the dam releases eliminated the possibility of cumulative dam breaches that would have created a flood that would have swept the lower Rio Grande Valley out into the Gulf of Mexico. The good folks that were flooded out were not happy, but the towns of Matamoras and Brownsville were spared the consequences of a breached Falcon Dam.
2.3 MELON SPRAY, LAREDO PACKING SHED This summer lob, seen years later, was as interesting and exotic as any Hemingway, Jack London, or Robert Service job. Laredo, Texas, 110 F in the shade, unloading and stacking boxes of cantaloupes or honeydews, then stuffing them into refrigerator cars, packed with ice, sweat freezing on sun-baked exhausted bodies, Condensate mist pouring ankle deep out the "reefer" railroad car doors onto the tracks, steaming into a clear shimmer mirage, then back out into the sun for another load off the trucks. Only an in-shape 17-year-old body can accommodate thermal assaults like that. A side task: experimenting with centripetal forces and the tensile /hoop strength of honeydew melons on the way home. Rat-racing cars getting ahead of the other car and reaching down thru partially opened car door, gently placing a melon on the road surface, it skids briefly then spins, picking up rotational speed, road-speed slowing only slightly, then as the pursuing car catches up, the melon finally spinning too fast to hold together, erupts spraying melon mush on the car behind. (Fig 2.3.1) Timing was crucial. The trick was to get ahead of the other car, or at least get ahead of any rolling 70 mph melons. And this was all done with "safety" fully in mind ... the so-called "mind" of an exhausted buzzed-up teenage boy.
2.4 FALCON DAM SURVEY..... WHERE IS THE BOTTOM? Never before, or since, have I seen as much money, relative to my time and place, as the pay I got as a GS-2 Engineer Aide on a 12/7 job as an assistant surveyor, on the Falcon Dam Re-survey in 1960. Seven days a week, 12 hours a day, 84 paid hours a week, double and triple-time. And living in trailers outside of Falcon, Texas, set up for the purpose: no place to spend any of the money. You go back to school rolling in uncharacteristic wealth, before and since. But enough of that.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from "All This Fun, and a Paycheck, too?" by Tom Clifford. Copyright © 2013 Tom Clifford. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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