Friday, October 4, 1957, dawned like most days of that
decade. Millions of Americans rose with the sun, ate breakfast
at home—there were few fast-food restaurants in 1957—
and hastened off to the farm, factory, or office. The number of
Americans who actually farmed for a living had dropped over
the last few decades, while the number who toiled in factories
or offices had increased.
Americans went to work by bus, subway, train, and
automobile. Very few actually walked to work, as so many of
their parents had done just a generation ago. Although only
20 years had passed since the Great Depression of the 1930s,
American life had become unrecognizable in many ways.
Americans ate more and better food, traveled more quickly
and easily, and generally lived more comfortable lives than
their parents.
As they commuted to work and back, most Americans were
preoccupied with local news, local stories, and the events of
their normal, everyday lives. As they headed home that afternoon,
they probably thought about work, family, and church,
which were generally recognized as the pillars of American
society. Some may have thought about a football or soccer
game (perhaps with their children involved). Some may even
have speculated about what might be on the television that
evening; as it turned out, a new situation comedy, Leave it to
Beaver, debuted that very night. If they read the New York Times
(millions did), they might have been concerned about the flu
epidemic that had affected 200,000 people in New York City
alone. But it is likely that few Americans thought about space,
satellites, or a “Race for Space,” all of which would become
household words in the weeks and months to come.
The InTernaTIOnal GeOphySIcal year
In 1950, an American scientist, Lloyd Berkner, had proposed
that the 18 months between July 1957 and December 1958 be
recognized as the International Geophysical Year (IGY), a time
for scientists around the world to study matters having to do
with the earth and its place in the universe. Agreements were
reached, and nearly 70 nations participated in the IGY, with scientists
meeting in many locations throughout the world. Eleven
specific topics were approved for study, with satellite technology
listed as one of the areas of interest. The IGY began in the summer
of 1957 with little fanfare, but scientists were thrilled with
some of the early progress being made. They were also taken
aback to learn that both the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
(USSR) and the United States intended to send satellites into
orbit at some point during the 18-month Geophysical Year.
The SOvIeTS are FIrST
The Soviet Union successfully sent an unmanned craft into
space first. Sometime on the morning of October 4 (Moscow
time), the USSR launched an immense rocket that fired a satellite
into orbit. Named Sputnik (which translated to “fellow
traveler”), the 184-pound satellite traveled at 18,000 miles per
hour, orbiting the earth every 90 minutes or so. Sputnik made
a rather annoying “beep . . . beep . . . beep” sound, which many
Americans claimed to hear on October 5 and for weeks afterward.
Faint streaks were also observable in the morning and
evening sky, though some of the reports of direct sightings
were probably made by people seeking attention.
The New York Times pointed out that Sputnik was eight
times heavier than the device the U.S. government hoped to
place in orbit. Americans became edgy and downright apprehensive
about their future. One of the core beliefs that drove
American society was the idea that U.S. scientists and engineers
were the world’s best—and here the Russians were, outperforming
them. The Times reported that Dr. Joseph Kaplan, who was
chairman of the U.S. section of the International Geophysical
Year, called the Russian achievement “fantastic.”
However, concerned voices intruded on the admiration for
the Russian accomplishment. In an open letter to the New York
Herald Tribune, economist Bernard Baruch wrote about “The
Lessons of Defeat”:
While we devote our industrial and technological power to
producing new model automobiles and more gadgets, the
Soviet Union is conquering space. While America grumbles
over taxes and cuts the cloak of its defense to the cloth of its
budget, Russia is launching intercontinental missiles. Suddenly,
rudely, we are awakened to the fact that the Russians have outdistanced
us in a race which we thought we were winning. It is
Russia, not the United States, who has had the imagination to
hitch its wagon to the stars and the skill to reach for the moon
and all but grasp it. America is worried. It should be.1
Just as Americans started to get used to the incessant
“beep . . . beep . . . beep,” and just as they were getting accustomed
to the idea that the Russians had beaten them to the
punch, they were surprised again. Americans learned that
Sputnik II, launched on November 3, 1957, weighed more than a
thousand pounds, and actually carried a dog (named Laika, for
its breed) to test how living beings would react to the challenge
of weightlessness. American indignation continued to grow.
Ike and nIkITa
In the autumn of 1957, Russian leaders could proudly boast that
they had gotten the best of the United States. Until that very
year, there had been several different men running the Kremlin
in a collective dictatorship, but that changed in the summer of
1957, when Nikita Khrushchev emerged as the new strongman
and sole leader of the USSR. As such, he was naturally compared
with his American counterpart, Dwight Eisenhower.
There actually were some similarities between the two men.
Both had been born in the 1890s; both had grown up in farming
communities; and both outwardly displayed mannerisms
that made them seem “down home,” belying their actual intelligence
and sophistication. But underneath these similarities,
there was a big difference: “Ike” (as Americans called him) was
a capitalist, a believer in free enterprise, and “Nikita” (as many
grown out of the ideas of Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin.
In the days and weeks following the orbit of Sputnik I,
Khrushchev reveled in the newfound publicity and attention he
received from the rest of the world. Frequently given to exaggeration,
he claimed that this was just the beginning; that the
USSR would soon launch bigger and better satellites and that it
would leave the United States behind in the dust. For his part,
Eisenhower kept a low profile, trying to act as if the news of
Sputnik did not bother him. An old hand at public relations,
Eisenhower did manage to calm the nerve of the American public,
but his aides and friends knew better—Ike was furious over
the Russians getting into space ahead of the United States.
After the Russians launched Sputnik II and the dog Laika,
Eisenhower felt compelled to ease American concerns. He
made a television address from Oklahoma City on November
7, just four days after the second Sputnik was launched into
space. Mentioning that the Soviets were celebrating the fortieth
anniversary of the 1917 revolution that brought them to power,
Eisenhower said:
We know of their rigorous educational system and their technological
achievements. But we see all this happening under a
political philosophy that postpones again and again the promise
to each man that he will be allowed to be himself and to
enjoy according to his own desires the fruit of his own labor. We
have long had evidence—recently, very dramatic evidence—
that even under such a system it is possible to produce some
remarkable material achievements. When such competence
in things material is at the service of leaders who have so little
regard for things human, and who command the power of an
empire, there is danger ahead for free men everywhere.2
Eisenhower was just warming up. He admitted the importance
of the Russian achievement, but hinted at greater
American accomplishments to come. He spoke of the importance
of keeping American alliances with other parts of the
free world strong and indicated that taxes would have to be
raised in order to keep American defenses in tip-top shape. But
Eisenhower saved the most important part of his speech for the
end, when he called for a renewed American effort in the areas
of science, technology, and higher education:
We should, among other things, have a system of nationwide
testing of high school students; a system of incentives
for high-aptitude students to pursue scientific or professional
studies; a program to stimulate good-quality teaching
of mathematics and science; provision of more laboratory
facilities, and measures, including fellowships, to increase
the output of qualified teachers. . . . We need scientists. In
the ten years ahead they say we need them by thousands
more than we are now presently planning to have.3
The president had spoken. High schools, colleges, and
universities saw the handwriting on the wall. If they wanted
financial assistance from the federal government, they would
have to produce more scientists and engineers, and, one might
suspect, fewer sociologists and philosophers.
