[meteorite-list] NPA 03-14-1963 He Chased Fallings Stars, Harvey Nininger

From: MARK BOSTICK <thebigcollector_at_meteoritecentral.com>
Date: Tue Feb 22 14:05:11 2005
Message-ID: <BAY104-F171E2D904BCE61F89F6729B3620_at_phx.gbl>

Paper: Mansfield News Journal
City: Mansfield, Ohio
Date: Sunday, March 10, 1963
Page: 15 of "Family Weekly" insert

He Chased Falling Stars

By THEORDORE BERLAND

PEOPLE USED TO SCOFF at Harvey Nininger for chasing around the country
looking for hunks of iron and stone that fell from the sky. But they don't
laugh at his meteorite hunting any more.
    Nininger, now 75 and living in retirement in Sedona, Ariz., came into
his own with the arrival of the Space Age. Scientists then realized that
meteorites are the only bits of matter from beyond the earth that they can
analyze chemically in their laboratories.
     At one time, nobody cared much that Nininger owned the largest and best
private collection of meteorites in the world. But as the Space Age was
born, the demand for Nininger meteorites grew - and in 1961 Arizona State
University bought most of his collection for more than a quarter-million
dollars!
     Nininger first became interested in meteorites in 1923 when he was
teaching biology at McPherson College in his native Kansas. The night of
Nov. 9 he spotted his first meteorite, and the night of that great ball of
fire streaking across the sky thrilled him and stirred his curiosity.
     He turned to books about meteorites. Soon he had read everything on
the subject in the college library. But that wasn't much, since meteorites
were considered an appropriate subject for college study.
     But to Nininger, meteorites were "the most interesting aspect of our
universe." He wrote for books on falling stars. He looked for accounts of
meteorites in newspapers, asked people he met if they had seen any lately,
checked out every report he heard about them, and combed Kansas farms for
hunks of rocks and iron that had fallen from the sky.
    Before long, he was spending more time with meteorites than with his
college classes. In 1930 he quit teaching entirely and set up a
meteorite-hunting headquarters in Denver. His name became known all over
the West, and reports of meteorite falls came to him from everywhere.
    At the report of a sighting, Nininger (and sometimes his wife Addie)
would crank up the car, rattle down gravel roads, and stop and talk with
ever eyewitness available. Most often, the "eyewitnesses" had gotten their
information second hand or third-hand.
     Only be doggedly traveling and interviewing could Nininger gleam enough
verifiable facts to chart a meteorite's fiery path on a map. Then he would
estimate where it fell and search that area for a crater and scattered
fragments.

IN A FEW YEARS, he had such a formidable collection that he decided to open
the American Meteorite Museum in Sedona, Ariz., not far from the most
fabulous meteorite crater in the world. The giant hole - formed when a
concentration of meteorites or a comet smashed into the desert some 50,000
years ago - is almost a mile in diameter and deeper than the Washington
Monument is high.
     The Arizona Crater became a rich source of meteorite fragments for
Nininger's ever-growing collection. And before long, his meteorite museum
had become a popular tourist stop.
     His scientific visitors gave him his prickliest moments. Their most
frequent comment was "Hmmm, rather interesting, Mr. Nininger, but what use
are these meteorites?"
     But Nininger's day was to come. As the Space Age dawned, scientists at
leading research centers began asking him to sell bits of meteorites that
they could analyze.
     In the past few years, meteorites have provided clues to life elsewhere
in the solar system. They have been used in establishing the age of the
earth at 4.5 billion years. And they have taught engineers how to design
rocket nose cones that will survive the blazing re-entry into the earth's
atmosphere.

THE FINAL vindication of Nininger's meteorite-hunting career came in 1961
when Arizona State University purchased most of his collection with National
Science Foundation funds.
     Thousands of specimens were catalogued meticulously by Mrs. Nininger
and shipped to the Tempe campus, where they are displayed as the Nininger
Collection.
     Today, Harvey and Addie Nininger live in a new home on a small rise in
Sedona. Around the house are meteorites on end tables and meteorite book
ends, reminders of their star-chasing days.
    The Niningers say they just want to enjoy their nine grandchildren and
the scenery. But Harvey has a small laboratory attached to his garage,
where he still experiments with bits of meteorites. They both occasionally
sneak out to the Arizona Crater nearby to hunt more fragments - and even go
off on a wild meteorite chase once in a while.
     It's impossible to retire completely when you have hitched your wagon
to a falling stars.

(end)
Received on Tue 22 Feb 2005 02:04:53 PM PST