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Moving Day

By Anonymous

"I don't like movers."

That thought kept me going while I hauled papers and personal belongings to my new office. By moving everything myself, the 20-plus boxes were just where I needed them to start work on my new job. All the while, sweat trickled down my temples - a reminder of just how much paper weighs.

It's a good office - large and centrally located. Many people I know and like are nearby. My new job places me among some of my employer's best engineers. Moves like that should make me happy. But I wasn't happy. It had nothing to do with my new job. Rather, it was what happened to my old job.

We were told it must "stand down".

At first, I didn't know what that meant. Neither did my co-workers. The spacecraft we'd spent three years designing and building was almost fully assembled. We were beginning the most complex phase of testing to support our launch date next year. Everyone was working at full steam, confronting and overcoming technical problems with a diligence Star Trek's Scotty would be proud of. Surely, no one was telling us to back off?

But that's exactly what we were told. Our customer, thousands of miles away, felt unsure about going forward. Those building the spacecraft should finish their work and step away. Those about to support operations testing and practice flying the spacecraft should file away everything they'd been doing. Except for a small, core team, everyone on the project would need to find another job - perhaps where they were currently working, perhaps elsewhere.

The small, core team, working amid newly vacant offices, would need to assemble all the material required to provide a detailed status report to our customer. Then, months from now, we'll learn our project's future. Perhaps we'll be asked to slip launch for a year. Perhaps our postponement will be indefinite.

I'll have little to do to support that decision. My job was one that was set aside.

You may wonder what project this is. Who is our customer? Is there some inside information I'll share? If so, I'm sorry to disappoint you. These are uncertain times and an ill-chosen word may have undesired consequences. The story is best told when the full story is over.

The particulars are unimportant. In any given year, my story will be repeated in dozens of places by thousands of engineers throughout the aerospace industry.

All this is new to me. While many projects I've worked on had been threatened with cancellation, none had gone so far as to let people go. I was lucky. My Group Supervisor found me a new position within a few days. It's on a project I'd wanted to join for some time. Moving offices was the only real, albeit minor, inconvenience. Meanwhile, good people are still looking for work several weeks after their projects let them go.

There's no way for an engineer to prepare for the letdown of having a project stood-down or cancelled. Putting men and machines into space demands our full energies. It's an emotional rush to be part of it. Often the pace is grueling -- all the way from the first scribble on a cocktail napkin to the awards ceremony when the mission is over. We complain about the pace, and then we jump to new projects that demand no less. The energy feels like driving a racecar in a tight formation at the Indianapolis 500. A stand-down or cancellation feels like the aftermath of a tree suddenly falling across the raceway.

More than that, redirection means breaking up a team. In space, as in sports, teams make things happen. Many hours go into creating working relations that get the job done even when the other person is getting on your nerves. I've seen teambuilding produce strong bonds and create lasting friendships. The importance of teams is evident in the offices of many of my coworkers. They decorate their desks with family pictures and decorate their walls with group photos of project teams they've belonged to. Their wardrobe reflects team identity as well. They adorn the neck lacing holding their badges with mission pins - an engineer's campaign ribbons.

My move brings these feelings into sharp focus. I packed quickly and didn't take time for housecleaning. Most boxes contain documents and memos from past projects. I may reread them someday, but probably not. It's time to throw them out. That's especially true of papers from my last project -- everything I'd want is stored in my computer and can be reprinted (computer screens give me eyestrain). Only a superstitious person would imagine that throwing them all away could jinx my old project and its chances of restart.

Will it launch someday? I hope so. That's why I'll keep a few key documents in hardcopy for easy reference if the need arises.

Superstition has nothing to do with it.