Veritas, Vol. 37, No. 01, July/August 1994

              For the Faculty and Staff of the University of Miami
July/August 1994 Volume 37 Number 1
Campus observatory finds adventure in the heavens
“This is the type of thing that happens once in a thousand lifetimes.” John Monforte is excited. A shattered comet, looking as elegant in the
John Monforte is cautious about what earthbound viewers may see when comet fragments bombard Jupiter, but he can offer guidance for stargazers visiting the observatory atop the Ungar Computer Center.
sky as a string of pearls, is on a collision course with Jupiter. Monforte, by day assistant professor in music engineering and director of recording services, by night amateur astronomer,
stands by with his squadron of telescopes atop the Ungar Computer Center in anticipation of Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9’s date with destiny, beginning July 16.
“Comets hit planets. The moon is filled with craters from asteroid and comet impacts,” says David Levy, the comet’s co-discoverer, who recently addressed a full house at Miami’s Space Transit Planetarium. “But we have never actually witnessed a major impact of a comet against a planet.”
Together, the 21 pieces comprising Shoemaker-Levy 9 promise to release the equivalent of 100 million megatons of dynamite upon reaching Jupiter— 10,000 times the total power of the world’s combined nuclear arsenal at the peak of the Cold War, according to estimates. Astronomers foresee a machine-gun barrage of comet fragments exploding in Jupiter’s atmosphere July 16-22.
Comets such as Shoemaker-Levy 9, and Halley and Kohoutek (who didn’t quite live up to their billing) periodically ignite the public imagination.
And though these heavenly bodies are wondrous, observing the moon, planets, nebulae, and cosmic clouds offer inspiring sight-seeing, as well.
Monforte, keeper of the observatory keys, would like to be your guide to the cosmos.
Monforte became interested in astronomy “at the age of eight or ten,
the kind of age when you’re into dinosaurs. The trouble was, when I got a telescope, I could only see four stars.” It wasn’t until he was 15, on a trip to Colorado, that Monforte saw the Milky Way for the first time. The constellations he had memorized from a book had finally come to life.
He tries to explain his fascination. “Astronomy was the beginning of science and is science in its purest form,” he says. “It was a way of ordering the world. The earliest astronomers were the rulers or their close advisors who could tell you when to plant the crops or go to battle.
“Despite all that we have learned from the sky, still the biggest questions remain,” Monforte continues, “‘Are we the only ones out here?’ ‘How did we get here?’ ‘What are we made from?’ ‘What will be our future?’ which still require our understanding of the heavens to answer.”
One day five years ago Monforte walked into the University observatory atop the Ungar Computer Center and saw a jumble of parts lying about. An electrical engineer by trade, Monforte says, “this does something inside me. I’ve got to put it back together again.”
Steadily, for the past year-and-a-half, he has. He revived the Celestron Schmidt-Cassegrain telescope (it uses mirrors and lenses) finishing it with a fresh coat of UM-regulation-green paint and tagging it with an official
logo. He fabricated a new mirror mount for the 18-inch Newtonian, a behemoth from the 1950s whose battleship-gray steel base and huge aluminum castings contrast the delicate stars it views. Plus he’s crafted parts from scrap metal, rebuilt motors and created new framework to shorten the telescope to the more contemporary configuration that can switch between Newtonian and Cassegrain. “It’s kind of like working on a car transmission,” he shrugs.
Monforte steps atop the ladder, swinging down the 10-inch Refractor to peer through the finder. On a low table nearby, Norton's Star Atlas is open to a section on Mars.
“These long-focal-length telescopes are good for planets and things requiring high magnification,” he explains. Like mighty Jupiter, the fifth planet from the sun.
“Further down the pike I want to convert a current telescope and make it into a solar telescope,” he says. “And we’ll make sundials, too.”
Although the Knight Physics building was constructed to accommodate an astral observatory, currently the Ungar rooftop is home to two domes, and a small office that is home to Monforte’s workbench and computer center. Already he’s loaded the PC with a tracking program called
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end “dance of death” with Jupiter
Space Telescope Science Institute
Comet to
“Comet hunting is the way of learning the sky on its own terms,” comet hunter and amateur astronomer David Levy said on a recent trip to Miami to discuss his findings. Any evening could offer the unexpected.
Together with Carolyn and Eugene Shoemaker, Levy discovered the comet on March 23, 1993, atop Palomar Mountain in California, based on photographic observing. It was their ninth such discovery together.
The Shoemaker-Levy team soon discovered the comet was not an “it” but a “them.”
“It fell apart skimming the cloud tops of the solar system’s biggest planet,” observes Levy. According to calculations, on July 7, 1992, “it literally became unglued.” More observations revealed 21 comets traveling all in a
row, “like lights on a spaceship or pearls on a string.” Scientists trace the relationship of this planet and comet back 150 years, says Levy. “It started a subtle dance with Jupiter that will end as a dance of death.”
Trapped in its final orbit of Jupiter, the comet train will begin its collision course July 16. The first fragment should “plough through Jupiter’s atmosphere and carve out a hole the size of Florida. It will be a tunnel of fire,” notes Levy. The largest collision on July 20 coincides with the 25th anniversary of man’s first lunar landing. Scientists believe the event will be similar in scope to the celestial
body that struck the earth 65 million years ago, said to be the spark of dinosaur and other species’ extinction. The impacts are predicted to strike the planet s far side, so earthlings must wait until Jupiter rotates a turn, exposing any effects. The Galileo probe, now' on its way to Jupiter and approaching from the far side, will be the only way we can view* the impacts direcdy. But the orbiting Hubble Space Telescope w ill be on hand with a ringside seat from the earth’s vantage point, giv ing us the best possible viewr.
As they run the gauntlet some fragments may strike the surface or be absorbed by Jupiter’s stormy atmosphere. It’s anybody’s guess. “Nature is going to show us precisely what it wants to,” Levy concludes.
—Leslie Stemlieb
Go for the burn!
Summer ’94 ’Cane Aerobics continues through August 5-
Classes run Monday through Saturday and are designed to appeal to all fitness levels. In addition, the facility off Walsh Avenue, open daily, includes a 2,800 square-foot fitness room outfitted with cardiov ascular equipment and w eights.
Classes cost S20 per session. Those not currently enrolled must purchase a CSR membership for $25 per semester. And don’t forget the pool at the University Center is open ev ery" day from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.. through August 15- For more information call Campus Sports and Recreation at 284-3253-