Bruce, thanks for the posts, these punch so many buttons with me.
There's an single-seat, ex-CIA Blackbird on display in Mobile, AL, complete with its' dual Buick V8 start-cart for those massive engines. Maybe before your days, but came to mind. Somehow amazing that Skunk Works (excuse me, Lockheed ADP !) experience was perfect for Disney !
Now that you have annotated spy shots of the unacknowledged site, are you hiring Cammo Dudes? Where do you park the Giant Black Triangles?
Thanks, J Wilson!
A few notes and observations about my years at Lockheed:
I was there in the late 1980's. At that time some of the Blackbirds were still flying, and some projects were playing around with new better sensor pods for them. The last of the TR-1's (aka U-2R's) were being built. Those were the days when the F-117 was in full production in Burbank, and a lot the company was working on it. I saw a few of the famous late-night C-5 landings at Burbank Airport to pick them up. Those were also the days of the heavy development of the ATF, which eventually became the F-22. There were quite a few other black projects going on at that time too, according to the rumors. Very busy times at Lockheed.
But I didn't directly see or work on any of those projects. Lockheed was (and still is, I'm sure) very strictly compartmentalized for security. Every black project was its own little company, with its own tightly guarded spaces and people. We were discouraged from socializing with, or even meeting other employees who worked on other projects. Some people would get transferred between projects, or be cleared to work in multiple projects. But it was strictly forbidden to talk to your co-workers what other projects you were working on, or what was going on in that other area. Working in the aerospace black world is an interesting and unique thing. Very strict security and rules. An innocent security mistake can get you fired, and you can quite literally go to prison for doing something stupid.
I was hired into Lockheed in the "white world", the unclassified part of the company. The Navy P-3 was still in production in Burbank, and I started out in the Navy Ground Support Equipment group. In my first year there, I invented and designed a lot of special tools and test equipment to service the P-3's and S-3's. My bosses noticed my creativity in coming up with clever mechanical solutions to problems. Soon I was being invited to mysterious meetings where I couldn't ask too many questions, but they were looking for my ideas. And so, I got drafted into the black world. It took about 18 months to get my full security clearances.
I ended up in a unique situation, where I was designing and project engineering some big pieces of support equipment which themselves were not classified. But they were built to service a highly classified aircraft program. I ran a small group of engineers and fabricators, working out in the white world, building these machines. But I was the only one who was cleared to the black program, acting as the interface. I was very restricted in what I could tell my team, about what the machine they were building would be used for. And, they never got to see it in operation. A strange environment to do engineering. But we succeeded. We got the project completed and it worked very well. I witnessed it running with the aircraft, in my last days at Lockheed.
It's been 30 years now, and the black program I worked on is still highly classified and has not been publicly revealed. One of my team members retired about ten years ago, and he told me that our program was still going on at that time. Like the majority of black aircraft programs, ours was/is a flying testbed, based on an existing aircraft. It was used to develop out some exotic new technology. It was never designed or intended to be used in active military missions. If you saw it flying around a military base, you probably wouldn't even notice anything unusual about it. Many black aircraft programs are like that. They aren't so much about designing a radical new airplane, but about working out the new technology that will be used when they finally figure out that they want a new airplane.
I did get to work with some older guys who had been on the Blackbird program when they were young men. Fascinating stories of what it was like working in some of the original Kelly Johnson teams. I never got to meet Kelly, although he was still alive in a hospital in Burbank. Some of the older guys would regularly visit him there. They said he was the toughest bastard they had ever worked for, but they worshiped him.
What really struck me from talking to those guys, is how all the engineering of projects in those days was done by hand. Pencils, writing out equations and notes longhand in notebooks. Multiplication and division by slide rule, addition and subtraction by hand on paper. Drawings, by hand, on paper. Carried down to the fabricator's workbench. It boggles my mind how they were able to manage all the zillions of details of a project like the Blackbirds.
One of the guys I worked with was an expert on thermodynamics. He had worked on the A-12, YF-12, and SR-71 projects, as well as many others that he couldn't tell me about. He got assigned to help with my project, and we became friends. He was a classic old-school 1960's aerospace engineer. A very quiet, pleasant man in his 60's who had never married and had no real social life that I heard of. His entire life was dedicated to working on black aircraft projects at Lockheed. It was amazing to watch him work. He would scribble away (neatly) with a pencil in a big thick notebook for hours, writing out equations in calculus, and doing many of his numerical calculations by hand or in his head. He did have an electronic calculator, which he had recently gotten, and he was thrilled with it. But he still did most of his calculations by hand. After so many pages of scribbling, he'd look up from his notebook and tell me how big the radiator needed to be on my machine. He was really good at his job. Sadly, he developed some serious problems with his eyesight, and was having surgery. Then one Monday we got word that he had unexpectedly died in his sleep at home over the weekend. It's sad to think how much history of Lockheed was lost with him. He had been right there in the heart of it all for more than 30 years.
The '80's was the decade when computers were beginning to take over the engineering world. When I was there, most of the "drafting" design work was being done on computers in CAD (Catia, if I remember right). They were big room-sized computers housed in heavily shielded vaults. The CAD designers were a select bunch who worked all day at terminals inside these vaults. It was an honor to have been selected to be trained to work in the CAD vaults. It was strange in there, like a bank vault filled with computer terminals. We engineers could go in there when we needed to, but we weren't really allowed to hang around.
Inside the secured black world areas, we project engineers lived in normal cheap office cubicles and desks. Almost all of our engineering work was done in handwriting in pencil. We each had one of those armored file cabinets that locked like a safe. All paperwork got locked up whenever you left your desk, even for a few minutes. I believe it was 1988, just before I left, that some engineers started being issued desktop computers, early stripped down Compaq PC's. They were used for documents and record keeping, not CAD design. I never got one. I never really used any computers at Lockheed.
One of the reasons I was successful in the R & D engineering world is that I'm also a skilled technical illustrator. I could quickly make good sketches of things, right in the middle of meetings, as they watched. That really helped in working out technical problems and communicating ideas. Other engineers came to me to help them sketch ideas, and my bosses encouraged me to spend time teaching them how to sketch. That skill was a big factor in my rapid promotions at all the companies I worked at.
In the black world, all documents are strictly controlled. Any notes or sketches we made automatically became classified documents, which had to be logged in. And then their location and access had to be tracked and controlled from then on. It was surreal to see my pencil sketches of mechanical contraptions become, literally, Top Secret level documents. Then they were locked away forever and only people with the proper clearances could sign them out and look at them. I'm sure that today, somewhere deep in the depths of Lockheed, there are still a few locked file cabinets full of my sketches and notes.
My overall impression from working at Lockheed for a few years is that it's a well managed, tightly run company. Stifling restrictions and agonizing bureaucracy sometimes, but they know how to manage their engineering and projects carefully. And there was tremendous company respect for their employees and their own history. A good place to work, if you can handle all the rules.
In late 1988, I got word that Walt Disney Imagineering was looking for a Senior Mechanical Engineer in their R & D department. I wasn't really unhappy at Lockheed, but I had been pushed too far into project management, which I didn't like. I wanted to be an R & D concept engineer, a free-ranging staff inventor. That's what I was best at. So, I sent a resume in to Disney, and they called me in for an interview. They offered me an amazing job as a senior mechanical engineer in a new big-budget R & D department that was forming up.
When I told my boss at Lockheed, they counter-offered. He took me to meet a higher boss (who I'd never met before), and they told me that were grooming me for a position in the advanced concepts group, the real heart of the Skunk Works. If I stayed, they'd find me a spot there.
Oh, man...That was probably the toughest decision of my life. Choosing between the two coolest mechanical engineering jobs in the world! I ended up going to Disney, and worked there on and off for 18 years. Another whole story in itself.
There are times I wonder if I should have stayed at Lockheed, and whether I might have worked there happily my whole career. Maybe I'd have become one of those unknown Skunk Works legends. But then, I never would have experienced Disney, the opposite world of free & crazy R & D engineering. I'm thankful that I got to experience both.