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Inside The Secret Underground Laboratory

I know of one shop that changed to a saw-stop, and discovered the hard way (cost of the explosive cartridge and ruined blade, possibly new underwear as well) that lumber that was the least hint of not totally dry would set the thing off. I doubt it could be detuned much, if any, without risking more of a cut, but that makes it less useful to me.

Whoa I didn't even think of that.
 
Well, that depends on the range of the scale. If you are trying to weigh things in the 6-10 lb range, you want to use a scale where that is in the middle of the scale's range, like a 0-20 lb or 0-30 lb scale. When you try to work at the bottom or top end of the scale's range, that's where you see the most inaccuracies.

Don't weigh an 8 lb bass on a 0-300 lb bathroom scale. Yeah, you can stand on the bathroom scale holding the bass, then not holding the bass, and subtract your weight. That improves the accuracy somewhat by getting into the working range of the scale. But, even in their working range, most bathroom scales have an actual accuracy of +/- 2%, which is +/- 6 lbs.

Now, the "doctor-style" bathroom scales, where you stand on the platform and slide the little weights, are much more accurate. They are generally within a pound through most of their range. But, is "within a pound" close enough when you are trying to accurately weigh an 8 lb bass?

Remember that resolution and accuracy aren't the same thing. Because a digital electronic scale reads out a resolution to 1/10 of an oz, that doesn't mean that it's accurate to 1/10 oz. I just looked up a typical digital kitchen food scale on Amazon. It has a range of 11 lbs/5 kg, and the advertising copy says it's "accurate to 0.1 oz or 1 gm". Yeah, right. They mean the resolution. Those numbers would mean the accuracy was 0.02%. On a $10 imported electronic device? Yeah, right. I'd be surprised if the actual accuracy was less than 1%. Expensive, tested laboratory scales are like 0.1%.

When you were working for Lockheed or Disney, did you use the metric system ? I can’t get used to those lbs and oz.
 
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.
 
Many of you have asked for a look inside my shop, known as the Secret Underground Laboratory. Here's a video interview/shop tour that was taken a few months ago. It's 5:40 of me walking through my shop, talking about my business and my machines. The video was shot by Scott Duckett, with me talking to Ernie Villegas. Ernie has been hired by the city of Fillmore (where we are) to promote business development in the city.

Ernie and Scott shot similar videos of most of the other tenant shops here in the building. Eventually, the plan is to put them all into an official city web site. But Scott went ahead and posted this one of me on YouTube.

This video doesn't cover all of my shop, but we briefly go through most of the areas specifically used in building my Scroll Basses. We didn't really go through my heavy woodworking machines, or the routing bench, or the other bay with my oldest antique metalworking machines. But it's a good overview. It was all shot in one continuous take.



If you didn't know it, I'm in the basement of a giant old Sunkist orange packing house in the little historic town of Fillmore California. The old wing of the building was built in 1914, and the "new" wing was added in 1934. Back in those days, this packing plant was a bustling operation, the heart of the town.

It's about 50,000 sf on the main floor, with a tall timber-trussed roof. Down below is a long narrow basement of about 40,000 sf. It's all concrete walls, 7 feet below ground level, divided into about 50 rooms and compartments. It was designed specifically for storing oranges. The whole basement naturally stays between 65 and 75 for almost the entire year. Perfect shop working conditions.

Sunkist closed the packing house down in 1970. The building went through several owners, including being a furniture factory and a warehouse for aircraft parts. It was then semi-abandoned for about ten years. The current owner, David Storrs, bought it on Foreclosure about 5 years ago. The city was very concerned about the building, because it's right in the middle of the city, and it's such a part of the history of the city. And it's a very unusual building in structure and layout; not suitable for most normal development things.

David's plan is to restore the building in fairly historic form, and lease it out to small private craftsman shops. That's what we're doing. I was one of the early tenants, moving my shop into the basement in late 2013. The building is now about 2/3 full of tenants, all kinds of interesting creative people. There are currently six of us Luthiers: Myself, Keith Horne, Mike Lipe, Jon Wilson, Rob Allen, and Raul Reulas. A few others are thinking about joining us. I help to manage the building, particularly us basement dwellers.

It's a wonderful environment for small craftsman shops. Cool and comfortable and secure and inexpensive. And Fillmore itself is a neat little town. Peaceful, no real crime, hot rods, old trains, surrounded by farms and orchards, California weather, 25 miles from the beach. Americana, stuck in 1963.

If any of you are looking for shop space around the Los Angeles area, contact me. We still have some space.

We just started an overall web site for the building at: [Invalid or Expired Link Removed]

I admire you for your skill and passion in your work. I wish you the best!
 
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.

Fascinating stuff. Thanks for the share.
 
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Bruce, THANK YOU !

I've long been an aviation nut, and a longtime fan of the Kelly Johnson era of the SkunkWorks. Ben Rich's book is one of my favorite reads, and for a feeling you obviously share: In a world before computers, these old school guys with slide rules, T-squares, and lots of coffee and cigarettes, designed world-changing aircraft literally off the tops of their heads. To think of what those engineers and fabricators and designers accomplished behind closed doors with pencil and paper is just genius at work on so many levels. I had to laugh when I remembered Ben Rich recounted that ADP got dinged when they forgot to lock up their coffee mugs in those armored file cabinets: They were emblazoned with a Blackbird silhouette during the build days in the early 60's.

I'm just tickled to have spoken to someone who's been there, and thanks for your service. Of course the TS/SCI requirements are burdensome, but I often wonder how much fun it must be to know things nobody else knows. Or terrifying.

All the Best,

J Wilson
 
Yes, the world of black aircraft projects is a fascinating section of American industrial history. I'm glad that I got to live it for a few years, and I'm proud to have done my small part.

A few other misc notes:

Yes, all the security stuff was a hassle. For example, to go from the outside of our building, through all the various secure doors, into my cubicle, and open up my file safe, I had to operate seven different combination locks. The combinations were all different, not set by me, and several were eight digits. And they had to be memorized. You could get fired if you were caught writing any of them down anywhere. We used to say that the combinations were the final test to verify that you were sufficiently intelligent and alert to be allowed inside. It was embarrassing to get stuck partway in; between two doors, unable to remember the next combination.

Another thing that struck me about the security is that it was very much one-way. It was very difficult for an unauthorized person to get inside, or figure anything out from the outside. That was the security department's job. But, once you had the security clearance, and were allowed into the project, you were trusted to keep the secrets. Past the walls and doors, inside the black project area, it was a fairly normal office and factory job environment. We weren't being watched under a microscope. There weren't armed guards eyeing us from the corners of the room. That's movie stuff. The security inside was mostly us watching each other. We had all sworn to protect the project's secrets, and there was a real honor to it. We watched each other to make sure we didn't get sloppy, and if anyone actually stole or leaked something, we would turn them in as a traitor. Anyone who didn't take the security seriously was immediately chased out.

Inside the black project, it was a surprisingly small group of people, for the size of the job. And they were all really good, smart, honest hard-working people. There were no slackers or deadwood. I think I heard that the process of getting an employee a TS/SCI clearance cost the company over a hundred thousand bucks, and took up to two years. They didn't take chances. Employees were tested and watched carefully and evaluated before being submitted for a clearance. You only got in there by first proving that you were very good at your job. Inside the project, we were a tight team. We worked hard and surprisingly efficiently, considering all the security complications. That was really the best part of working in the black project world. The best people.

When I got to Disney, I found that the majority of the engineers there had come over from aerospace. Many from Lockheed, Northrop, and Boeing. And many had come from the black project world. There was actually some old bitterness between the ex-Lockheed engineers and the ex-Northrop engineers. Lots of grousing about the Lockheed YF-22 winning over the Northrop YF-23, and the Northrop B-2 beating the Lockheed ATB. Each side thought theirs was obviously better.

When I was working in Disney's electronics lab in the 2000's, one of my co-workers and best friends there was ex-Lockheed. He'd spent about 20 years there as an electronics technician. He had actually lived on-site at the Ranch for almost 10 years, servicing the Have Blues and F-117 prototypes. Many interesting stories about life there.

For those of you unfamiliar, the Ranch is more commonly known as Area 51 or Groom Lake. The big super-secret air base in Nevada, where most of the black programs do their test flights. Most of the Lockheed guys I knew called it the Ranch. I personally never visited the Ranch, because the project I was on didn't go there. We did our testing at other super-secret locations. Yes, there are others.

And if you are curious, my friend assured me that there are no captured alien spacecraft in Area 51. He looked. Definitely some Unidentified Flying Objects, but all made by guys like him. He told me some funny stories about them deliberately teasing the UFO watchers who would hide up in the hills surrounding the base.

I guess that's enough about Lockheed. Kind of off the subject of electric basses. But it gives you some idea of where I come from. And why I operate out of my very own Secret Underground Laboratory.
 
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Interesting story about your work at Lockheed Bruce.
The owner at my old woodshop was friends with a guy who is a machinist & did subcontract work for the aerospace industry. He came to us a couple times to have shipping crates fabricated to transport parts he was working on back to the Lockheed Martin branch that's here in Phoenix (Luke AFB). The task fell to me because I was head of "special projects" there.
I had never seen such a complex set of prints & tight tolerances required.... for a dang shipping crate! Specs on everything from the specific type of plywood (doubled on the floor of the box) to specific fasteners & joinery... etc... etc...
They had a set of stilts arrayed in a circular pattern that couldn't deviate in height more than .015"
A little cutout here, a shelf there...etc... crazy.
I tried to ask the machinist what they were for.... ooohhh no, that was classified information. My boss later told me they were for part of a missle warhead ...but he didn't know any details. They couldn't have been too secret because the machine work was being outsourced. But it was still pretty hush hush.
 
Interesting story about your work at Lockheed Bruce.
The owner at my old woodshop was friends with a guy who is a machinist & did subcontract work for the aerospace industry. He came to us a couple times to have shipping crates fabricated to transport parts he was working on back to the Lockheed Martin branch that's here in Phoenix (Luke AFB). The task fell to me because I was head of "special projects" there.
I had never seen such a complex set of prints & tight tolerances required.... for a dang shipping crate! Specs on everything from the specific type of plywood (doubled on the floor of the box) to specific fasteners & joinery... etc... etc...
They had a set of stilts arrayed in a circular pattern that couldn't deviate in height more than .015"
A little cutout here, a shelf there...etc... crazy.
I tried to ask the machinist what they were for.... ooohhh no, that was classified information. My boss later told me they were for part of a missle warhead ...but he didn't know any details. They couldn't have been too secret because the machine work was being outsourced. But it was still pretty hush hush.
The machinist was BSing you. I worked for a number of years at NWC China Lake on the HARM missile system supporting flight testing. Weapon components that I've ever seen, are shipped in purpose built heavy gauge steel containers with foam dunnage.
 
The machinist was BSing you. I worked for a number of years at NWC China Lake on the HARM missile system supporting flight testing. Weapon components that I've ever seen, are shipped in purpose built heavy gauge steel containers with foam dunnage.

Yeah, I agree. Most real critical aircraft and missile parts that I've seen are shipped in expensive steel containers. The machinist was probably making up pieces of tooling or maintenance fixtures. Weapons systems need enormous amounts of those things, and they frequently subcontract them out to smaller machine shops. Some of the tooling is very elaborate and precision, and may be stored and shipped in fitted wood crates.
 
Meanwhile, back in the present day, last week we had the local Fillmore Cub Scout troop in for a tour of the Secret Underground Lab. It was fun, and we're going to be doing this kind of quick tours for kids groups fairly regularly. We've been in contact with the local Scout troops, the school teachers, and the local home schooling association. Good civic duty. Seeing shops like ours can be a real spark of inspiration for kids.

I was the tour guide for most of it. I spent about 40 minutes with them, which was about right for their attention span. I took them all through my shop, with a fair amount of explanation of how I build all the parts of a bass. John Galbraith, one of our custom furniture builders, showed them his shop. Then I took them quickly through Mike Lipe's shop and Rob Allen's shop. It was fun. The parents were as fascinated as the kids.

Pictures by our resident photographer, journalist and beer brewer Scott Duckett. He also put an article in the Fillmore Gazette.

Here I am, holding a Scroll Bass neck and explaining how necks are built:

scouts-02-07-18-1.jpg

John Galbraith taking his turn in his shop:

scouts-02-07-18-2.jpg


And me, explaining Rob Allen's Fadal CNC machine.

scouts-02-07-18-3.jpg
 
Thats great for Scouts, I have 4 sons, 3 made Eagle Scout, the 4th will too. They have seen and done so much, while their friends sat at home with the video games, they camped out, climbed mountains, and did tours like yours. We just went on the Neil Armstrong, a brand new high tech research vessel out of Woods Hole mass. They have an amazing machine shop on board to fabricate parts and fittings.
 
I spent too many hours in scouting as a kid. Most of it was devoted was to burning or breaking things out in the bush. Canned spaghetti makes a fantastic mess when you put it in the fire (unpunctured). Think 1 gallon cans. :D Flying burning spaghetti doesn't tend to go all that well with nylon tents for some reason though. Go figure?

On a more related note, we all got to go look at a guy's racecar one night with scouts. That was a highlight for sure. Would love to have visited your shop Bruce. Still want to!
 
In other excitement, today was a movie shoot day here in the Lab. We sometimes have movie and TV series production companies come in and do shoots. Two years ago, we had Warner Bros for about two months, shooting scenes for the movie Live By Night. We've also had maybe a dozen smaller indie movies and music videos shot in here. It's a cool old building for old industrial type scenes. The shoots can be a moderate hassle for us shop tenants, but they pay really well. Our landlord David needs the money for improvements to the building, and to keep our rents low.

Today was a bunch of scenes for a popular TV action series. I'm not allowed to tell you which one yet, until it's been broadcast. Big production, about 20 trucks full of gear parked outside; close to 100 people running around everywhere, moving props, dragging cables, setting up lights, talking to their agent on the cell phone, etc. They set up all day yesterday, and today was the actual shoot, starting at 6 am. They "wrapped" (movie lingo) around 4 pm and had most of the equipment out by 6. They will be pulling out the generators and cables in the morning.

The most exciting part was a fire scene in the hall right outside my shop. The hero walks down the tunnel and out onto the ramp, having set the place on fire as he goes. No real fire was used. They set up a big computerized lamp array inside the gate of my shop. It randomly flickered oranges and yellows. And a smoke machine in the hall. I stayed in my shop, watching over them. It looked reasonably cool from where I was. We'll have to see how it looks in the final cut.

The rest of the day was some scenes in and around an underground storage vault. They used our building's old records vault, which is down at the far end of the basement, plus one of the unoccupied shop spaces down there. The also shot a couple scenes of the parking lot outside the ramp. My old white '67 ford pickup may have made a cameo appearance. They asked me to park it in a spot that may have been in view.

This particular production company has also been filming at spots around the city of Fillmore, and they are scheduling to do more. They will be back in a few weeks, and then a few weeks after that. It may turn into a regular thing. It's a disruption for us shop guys, but not too bad. The basement echos enough that we can't really run any machines or talk loud while they are filming at the other end. So a shoot day is a shutdown day. I spend the day watching over our shops and doing a little bit of quiet work. Then I still have my night shift to do my noisy work. The other guys mostly just stayed away today.
 
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It was a quiet Sunday here in the lab......just the melodic roar of Keith testing out a 10-string bass. A very distinctive sound echoing up and down the hall. This is the second 10-string he's built.

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It's in testing form right now. The body and neck have clear poly base coats only on them. He's not sure what color it's going to end up yet. He's thinking a solid metalflake, but I've suggested that it doesn't look bad in natural wood. Maybe a little darker tint? It doesn't have the brushed aluminum pickguard or the knobs or strap buttons yet.

He's taking it over to Jeff Pilsen's place tomorrow, for Jeff to test out in comparison to the first one, the purple one, which Jeff owns and loves. Jeff may want to buy this one too, we don't know. If he doesn't, then Keith will finish it up in some color and put it up for sale.

The big difference on this one is the pickups. The cool looking housings are the same, but the coils inside are very different. The purple one has coils made by our buddy Rob Timmons (Arcane Pickups). They are fairly standard 5-string Jazz style coils, two in each housing, wired as humbuckers.

This second one has pickups made by me. They are a 5-string variant of my AMB-2 pickup design, one 3-string coil and one 2-string coil. Tall narrow coils with the monstrous 3/8" magnets and fairly low impedance. The basic formula that I use on the AMB-2. In our testing today, they sound great. The powerful clear bottom end is definitely there. The only problem we found is that the center strings, the A's, are a little weak in relation to the others. I may need to make another set with a little more vertical angle between the coils; more of a radius. Unfortunately, this set is permanently cast in those housings.

We also found that there isn't a whole lot of difference in sound between the two pickups. The middle pickup has everything you want. The bridge pickup has a little less bottom end, but not any additional high end. They sound almost the same, and when switched together (in phase), it also sounds almost the same. This bass really only needs the middle pickup. I found the same thing when I made those two twin pickup versions of my AMB-2: The bridge pickup was unnecessary.

Anyway, it will be interesting to hear Jeff's opinion of these pickups, now that he's had several months to play around with the first one. We'll go from there in deciding whether to continue to develop my pickup for these Octave basses.

The headstock is the same, although Keith did decide to add a zero fret to the design. It makes it much easier to dial in the nut.

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He's worked some more on the body shape, changing the shape of the horns a bit and adding a bevel around the perimeter. May be a few more details to be added. The bridge assembly is the same. I finished that up Friday night.

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Our heroic Chief Of Security, Chip, was eyeing me up as I took these pictures. They say you can tell a lot about a dog by the size of his ears. Chip's got some serious ears. You don't want to mess around with him.

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[QUOTE="Bruce Johnson, post: 20991765, member: 185300"


Our heroic Chief Of Security, Chip, was eyeing me up as I took these pictures. They say you can tell a lot about a dog by the size of his ears. Chip's got some serious ears. You don't want to mess around with him.

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"You have a pass for that camera, sir?"
 
An update on the 10-string:

Keith reports that they just tested out the two 10-strings in Jeff's studio, and the second one with my pickups sounds much better than the first one. He described it as phenomenal sounding, significantly clearer and deeper bottom end. Jeff wants a set of my pickups installed in the purple one ASAP. Another confirmation that this pickup design that I developed for my AMB-2 Scroll Basses is really good.

Jeff isn't going to buy the second 10-string right away, so it will be available.