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Saying farewell to Qian Xuesen, father of our space program
By John Gong |
November 4, 2009, Wednesday
|
Print Edition
Print Edition
THE heavy yet beautiful snow in Beijing on Sunday was clearly tears from "above" to lament the passing of one man whose legacy is treasured with awe in China and can be felt in the US and many other parts of the world.
At age 98, Dr Qian Xuesen passed away peacefully in a hospital in Beijing this past Saturday. The trajectory of Qian's life encompasses both continents across the Pacific.
In 1935, he went to MIT on a scholarship and a year later transferred to Caltech (Pasadena, California) to pursue doctoral study with Theodore von Karman, the prominent aviation pioneer at the time.
It was shortly after arriving at Caltech that Qian was attracted to the rocketry ideas of Frank Malina and a few other students of von Karman and their associates.
While Malina, Jack Parson and et al are hands-on experimenters, Qian played the role of a theorist, providing many insightful calculations that were vital in setting the directions of the project.
Around Caltech the dangerous and explosive nature of their work earned them the nickname "Suicide Squad."
The story of the early days of rocket invention at Caltech was later documented in detail in Iris Chang's biography of Qian, "Trace of Silkworm."
Qian was not only a gifted scientist, but also a perfectionist scientist. One event speaks volumes about his research attitude.
Among Qian's academic publications in the US was a joint paper with von Karman, titled "The Buckling of Thin Cylindrical Shells Under Axial Compression," published in the Journal of Aeronaut Science in 1941.
The 10-page paper, mainly done by Qian, had over 800 pages of drafts in five different versions behind it. Each draft version has entirely different content and sometimes different analytical results.
By the time Qian finished the fifth version, he put the paper into a folder on which he wrote "final." Then he immediately added on the side "Nothing is final!"
After Germany surrendered in World War II, the US Army gave Qian the rank of Colonel. Qian was founding director of the world-famous Jet Propulsion Lab (JPL) at Caltech, and performed many important missile projects for the US military.
Qian was persecuted at the height of the McCarthy era. But the Caltech president Lee DuBridge and Qian's colleagues firmly stood behind him, and he continued to do research there, mainly in control theory after he lost his security clearance.
In fact, the university gave him its distinguished alumni award in 1979 in recognition of his pioneering work in rocket science.
Home sweet home
On a rainy and windy day in southern California in 1955, Qian bid farewell to the US together with his wife and two children on board a ship heading for Hong Kong.
And the rest is history, for China. That latter part of his life on the other side of the Pacific shines even more. Qian was the father of China's space and missile programs.
Qian is survived by his wife, Jiang Ying. Jiang Ying, who married him in 1947, is a famed opera singer.
According to Iris Chang's book, Qian shared with Jiang Ying so much of the same love of opera that they would sometimes rest quietly, immersed in the music for hours in their modest apartment in Beijing in the 60s and 70s.
As an enthusiast of the same music genre, I would dedicate one song in honor of Qian. The song, "I will pray for you," is from Katherine Jenkins' album "Rejoice," including one paragraph that I note:
When your time is through
My final wish for you
Is to count your blessings not your regrets
With peace inside your soul
And all that heaven holds
I hope you always know
I will pray for you.
(The author is an associate professor of economics at the University of International Business and Economics. His email: johngong@gmail.com)
At age 98, Dr Qian Xuesen passed away peacefully in a hospital in Beijing this past Saturday. The trajectory of Qian's life encompasses both continents across the Pacific.
In 1935, he went to MIT on a scholarship and a year later transferred to Caltech (Pasadena, California) to pursue doctoral study with Theodore von Karman, the prominent aviation pioneer at the time.
It was shortly after arriving at Caltech that Qian was attracted to the rocketry ideas of Frank Malina and a few other students of von Karman and their associates.
While Malina, Jack Parson and et al are hands-on experimenters, Qian played the role of a theorist, providing many insightful calculations that were vital in setting the directions of the project.
Around Caltech the dangerous and explosive nature of their work earned them the nickname "Suicide Squad."
The story of the early days of rocket invention at Caltech was later documented in detail in Iris Chang's biography of Qian, "Trace of Silkworm."
Qian was not only a gifted scientist, but also a perfectionist scientist. One event speaks volumes about his research attitude.
Among Qian's academic publications in the US was a joint paper with von Karman, titled "The Buckling of Thin Cylindrical Shells Under Axial Compression," published in the Journal of Aeronaut Science in 1941.
The 10-page paper, mainly done by Qian, had over 800 pages of drafts in five different versions behind it. Each draft version has entirely different content and sometimes different analytical results.
By the time Qian finished the fifth version, he put the paper into a folder on which he wrote "final." Then he immediately added on the side "Nothing is final!"
After Germany surrendered in World War II, the US Army gave Qian the rank of Colonel. Qian was founding director of the world-famous Jet Propulsion Lab (JPL) at Caltech, and performed many important missile projects for the US military.
Qian was persecuted at the height of the McCarthy era. But the Caltech president Lee DuBridge and Qian's colleagues firmly stood behind him, and he continued to do research there, mainly in control theory after he lost his security clearance.
In fact, the university gave him its distinguished alumni award in 1979 in recognition of his pioneering work in rocket science.
Home sweet home
On a rainy and windy day in southern California in 1955, Qian bid farewell to the US together with his wife and two children on board a ship heading for Hong Kong.
And the rest is history, for China. That latter part of his life on the other side of the Pacific shines even more. Qian was the father of China's space and missile programs.
Qian is survived by his wife, Jiang Ying. Jiang Ying, who married him in 1947, is a famed opera singer.
According to Iris Chang's book, Qian shared with Jiang Ying so much of the same love of opera that they would sometimes rest quietly, immersed in the music for hours in their modest apartment in Beijing in the 60s and 70s.
As an enthusiast of the same music genre, I would dedicate one song in honor of Qian. The song, "I will pray for you," is from Katherine Jenkins' album "Rejoice," including one paragraph that I note:
When your time is through
My final wish for you
Is to count your blessings not your regrets
With peace inside your soul
And all that heaven holds
I hope you always know
I will pray for you.
(The author is an associate professor of economics at the University of International Business and Economics. His email: johngong@gmail.com)
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