Latest news with #ArtHarman
Forbes
02-08-2025
- General
- Forbes
My Kingdom - For A Hunk Of Old Soviet Cement?
NOVEMBER 11, 1989: A Berlin Wall opening in Berlin, Germany. (Photo by Patrick PIEL/Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images) Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images On November 9, 1989, Art Harman, a then-32-year-old U.S. public policy expert, was watching television and, like the rest of the world, was shocked by what he saw. News anchors on most every station were reporting that the onerous Berlin Wall, one of the last remaining bastions of the Cold War, was falling. Video of joyous East Germans dancing on top while crossing into West Berlin, some of them even smashing off bits of concrete, was proof. Rather than just revel in shock and joy, Harman immediately looked a few steps out. Why not visit Germany right now to experience firsthand history-in-the-making, but at the same time bring back authentic Wall remnants? He figured that other Americans might want to own pieces, and that they would pay good money for the privilege. Three of Harman's friends thought so, too, and joined his intrepid team. Art Harman chipping pieces off of the Berlin Wall, November 1989. Courtesy of Art Harman First, Harman bought a roundtrip air ticket to Berlin on the now defunct Pan American World Airways, then scurried off to the local post office in McLean, Virginia, to secure some burlap mail sacks to load the concrete into when he returned stateside. He also visited a nearby hardware store to purchase crow bars, axes, sledge hammers, chisels, hammers and safety goggles for Wall demolition when he arrived in Germany. To sell the pieces when he returned, he envisioned mounting them on small Walnut wood bases. For these, he went to a trophy store. He also had some brass plates made to attach to the wood certifying that the Soviet cement as authentic. Finally, just before leaving for Europe, he contacted a Berlin guide to help with overseas logistics and to locate a good part of the Wall to work on. It was decided that Potsdamer Platz was ideal. Surprisingly, Harman and his group met no resistance when they arrived in Berlin. The East German guards, many still in uniform but without their lethal machine guns, seemed amused, almost giddy. One was even posing for photos with tourists. Art Harman with East German border guard, November 1989. Courtesy of Art Harman It was surreal, Harman says. From 1961 to 1989, at least 140 people were ied in connection with the Wall, either being shot by East German police while trying to escape, from accidents or from suicides. That structure was serious business. The actual demolition proved to be hard labor. Harman said that even though it was November, he and his friends were sweating big time. There was the choking dust, too - hence the goggles - but in the end the four had chipped off 1,000 pounds of Wall. All of the chunks were from the west side which was covered by colorful graffiti, and thus more likely to sell. One painted phrase Harman rememberers vividly: "Love Is Thicker Than Concrete." Conversely, the Wall's eastern exposure was painted bland white, probably so soldiers could more easily spot anyone trying to climb over and escape to the West. After a few days, the team had managed to fill 15 sacks with their concrete stash, and checked them in at the Pan Am counter of Berlin Bradenburg Airport. Harman says they had to pony up about $800 in excess baggage fees. Although Harman was nervous about clearing customs back in the U.S., it turned out to be easy. The agent asked what was in the sacks. When he was told it was hunks of the Berlin Wall, he laughed. "I have diamond rings and fur coats in my tariff book, but not Soviet cement," he said. American entrepreneur Art Harman with his 1,000 pounds of Berlin Wall cement, November 1989. Photo courtesy of Art Harman Harman says he still has a few hundred pounds of his historic cement left, some of it for sale on his website. A small piece will set you back at least $85. While demand has slowed considerably over the years, the biggest sales month is still November, right around the anniversary of the Wall's collapse. As for profits, Harman estimates that his total out-of-pocket costs to date are about $7,500. But he says he has sold more than $100,000 worth of product. That's a pretty nice return on investment, no matter how you hack it.
Forbes
02-04-2025
- Automotive
- Forbes
The B-1 Bomber: ‘Listen, Hear My Engines Roar'
A B-1 engine at full throttle as Forbes writer Jim Clash looks on in the test chamber, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. In Part 1 and Part 2 of this series about Dyess Air Force Base in Abilene, Texas, we covered my recent supersonic B-1 flight with the 9th Bomb Squadron - and my immersion into the base's Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) unit, complete with bomb suit. Here, in Part 3, we focus on maintenance of the B-1 bomber's formidable engines. As reported earlier, four General Electric F101-GE-102 turbofan engines power the aircraft. During takeoff and supersonic runs, the afterburners typically are lit. At that level, each engine puts out more than 30,000 lbs. of thrust, and, collectively, the four gulp more than 240,000 lbs. of fuel per hour. Given such high demands, engines occasionally break down. To prevent that, they must pass regularly scheduled inspections after 200 flying hours, with full-engine teardowns every 4,000 hours. For the inspections, engines are carefully removed from the aircraft and to a special Dyess maintenance area. There, they are rebuilt and refurbished accordingly. During full-throttle B-1 engine testing, all personnel must wear sufficient ear protection, among other things, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. The last step before returning the engines to planes is testing them at full throttle. My photographer, Art Harman, and I were invited to watch this procedure from the chamber where it is done. We were met at Building 5111 by MSgt Nathanael Rehburg, CRF Assistant Flight Chief, 7th CMS. Mind you, there is nothing in that chamber to protect us if something goes awry. Say an engine malfunctioned during a full power test and coughed up a blade or two, or if it exploded - or if the thing came out of its confines and the jet nozzle sprayed in our direction - we would be helpless, basically toast. To prevent this nearly impossible occurrence, the engine we encountered had already been run at full power several times prior to our arrival. First, we watched a full test run in the control room. Even from there, it's impressive. A 30-foot focused yellow/blue flame roared from the back of the engine into a narrow concrete tunnel, then vented to the outside air. The spectacle reminded me of the launching of a Saturn V rocket. A B-1 bomber engine sits idle in the Dyess AFB test chamber, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. Once the engine rpm dropped back to idle, and everything was deemed safe, we carefully made our way in to the chamber to watch from there, hugging the near wall as we moved along. For noise, we were given simple earplugs, plus headphones to cover them. All jewelry, cell phones, tape-recorders, watches - anything loose - was left in the control room. As the engine began to rev, we hung on to metal scaffolding along the wall to prevent us from being sucked toward it. First, there was a significant amount of building noise and hurricane-force winds blowing through the chamber. Once the afterburners kicked in, though, it got wild, including palpable rumblings in your chest, plus the added element of heat. I was upfront, closest to the flame. My bare arms and face gradually got hotter and hotter, as if I were in an oven. There was nothing I could do to address the discomfort. I couldn't cover my face with my hands, as I was holding on to the scaffolding for dear life, and I certainly couldn't move back in the line, further from the flames. I guess if there is such a thing as Hades, this is it. View from control room during B-1 engine testing, Dyess AFB, Abilene, Texas, March 28, 2025. After 30 seconds of full afterburner, which seemed twice as long, everything thankfully was shut down, and it became eerily quiet in the chamber. The engine was ready to go back into service. I knew these monsters were powerful, having been in the B-1 when they kicked in, but being so up close and personal, well… A bit stunned, we politely thanked the maintenance group and continued our tour to the next functional Dyess area. There are many. And no, my hair did not catch on fire, but it had come close. What an experience!
