 This is Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico. It is a town of warm colors, of gentle sounds, of rich smells. It is also a town which has been touched by the space age. Just beyond the mountains to the south lies one of NASA's key tracking stations. The station is located well outside the town. Nevertheless, it is very much within the Guaymas community which acts as its host. This is part of its story, which is one of communications in a twofold sense. Involving space age electronics, as well as a considered effort on the part of the men who work here to blend into their environment. The Guaymas story is the story of a typical manned flight tracking station. It begins with the term NASCOM, which designates NASA's Worldwide Communications Network. By means of telephone lines, under seas cables, and shortwave radio, this network links together all of NASA's tracking stations. Its purpose is to provide ground support for space exploration. Its center is the Goddard Space Flight Center at Greenbelt, Maryland. The primary function of the net that we provide is to tie together all of the tracking stations so we can convey information on how the spacecraft is functioning into the mission control center, and so they, in turn, can do their job of taking whatever actions may be required to get the spacecraft that there are troubles, have them corrected, pass information up to the astronauts and so forth. Three major types of information are handled by the network. The first is voice, which you've probably all heard. This is a very good way to pass information back and forth. Secondly, there's telemetry that really has to do with the functioning of the spacecraft, such as various voltages, temperatures, pressures within the spacecraft. These are transmitted to the ground station. These are then converted into a teletype format, a very conventional teletype, and transmitted into the mission control center so they can see in real time how the spacecraft is functioning. And the third major form of data is the aeromedical data having to do with the astronauts, such as their heartbeat, their respiration rate, and so forth. Throughout most of its journey, a spacecraft orbiting the Earth is in contact with the ground support station, say with the Canary Islands, with Canarvan, Australia, with Hawaii, with Guimas, Mexico. The Guimas station in particular is the first NASA station to acquire and track the craft when on its first orbit it approaches the North American continent from the west. The term tracking implies at least three separate functions. Tracking proper, that is, a determination of the spacecraft's position during the pass over the station, the monitoring of all equipment aboard the craft and of the crew's well-being, and voice communications between crafts and ground support network. The three functions involve a host of intricate equipment. This is part of the system which tracked Gemini, in which is now tracking Apollo. This large antenna tracks the Apollo capsule in its Earth orbit. The equipment connected with it is of extraordinary complexity, reflecting the fact that a single antenna is used to determine the craft's position to carry telemetry data, voice communications, and the signals emanating from the astronauts' television camera. Outgoing and incoming data which pertain to the spacecraft's performance, that is, voltages, pressures, temperatures, and so on, are electronically coded and decoded in what looks like a crowded locker room. To be stored and evaluated by computers, the size of which is leapfrogs from Project Gemini to Project Apollo. They're displayed in a variety of ways. By means of conventional meters of recorders and events lights, as well as on television screens, and they are passed on to the network and to the Mission Control Center in Houston, through a kind of giant switchboard. The station is operated by about 100 people, both Mexican and American, all of whom live in and around Guimas. Between missions, these men spend their time working on the equipment, maintaining the old, installing and testing the new. Each mission has its own requirements, which can be met only after days of rehearsal and simulation. Moreover, the complexity of the equipment and of the use to which it is put increases steadily and so work never ceases. I think that's a good one. Several of the Americans have lived in Guimas for a number of years. Computer engineer Robert Gardner, for example. The assistant supervisor for maintenance and operation, Jack Urban, or station director Morton Burnt, who is both expert engineer and administrator. To these men, it has become clear that the business of tracking spacecraft involves more than the mastery of electronics. After all, the station is on Mexican soil. It is a joint project of Mexico and the United States, guided by a joint commission of Mexican and U.S. scientists and engineers. Pre-requisite to the station's very existence, therefore, is a positive relationship with the host country. Morton Burnt is fully aware of the challenge involved. I think we have always considered ourselves as essentially guests of the Republic of Mexico while we're here, and being a guest in a foreign country sort of means that you have certain responsibilities as far as conduct and as far as your contact and your relationships with the people of the host country. In my opinion, the single most important thing is that you have to become a part of the community itself that you're living in. In many cases, there's often, I think, a natural inclination for, let's say, strangers from another country to become sort of clannish, so to speak, to socially stay more or less to themselves. And this is the sort of thing that does not generate close and good personal relationships. The station has made, I think, quite an effort to maintain exceptionally good relationships here in Waimus, and I think that this has resulted in what we were looking for. That is a very pleasant and friendly atmosphere for a tracking station, and very pleasant personal relationships between the employees of the station and their friends here in Waimus, their neighbors and so on. Waimus, a town of 40,000 inhabitants, is neither large nor small, neither old nor new, neither sleepy nor hectic, but a peculiar mixture of it all. It is colorful without being gaudy, easy going, yet intensely alive. The task of adjusting to it is a real one. It involves more than learning its language. It involves matching its pace, its climate, matching the warmth and dignity of its human relationships, matching its noisy joy of life, and its silence. For Mrs. Jack Urban, the key to the community has been her church choir, which consists mostly of townspeople. I can't put my finger on it. I really can't say it in words what it is, but there's definitely something here that... I just don't know what it is. I like it very much here, and the children like it here. I'm happy here, very happy here. Well, in fact, the first week or so we were here, it seemed as though we were going to have the end of it because, well, for one thing, a scorpion stoned me on the leg. I was waiting for the bus and having a second cup of coffee, and I noticed this scorpion crawling on my leg. And then the other thing was I had an abscess tooth, and then everyone got lances into this. And, well, it seemed like everyone against us. So that's when we decided, well, I don't want to make it six months or not. So after I was here six months, and I said, well, gee, I should commit myself, you know, for the year that you should stay at these overseas sites. And I guess after that time, then the family started getting into the perspective and the way things are going here in Mexico. And, well, we sort of joined in with the community, actually, and became part of it. And that made the big difference. Joining in with the community means, among many other things, sending your children to local schools. And the kids have done so. Their oldest son, John, now seriously considers completing his education at a Mexican university. It gives him an insight into two different countries, really. Into the states and as well as into some foreign country to make things a little closer with the whole worldwide situation. Today, this is one of the things that's lacking. We don't appreciate the other person's point of view. Horizontal communications, however, the mission is in progress and all thought is directed skyward. A team of flight controllers has arrived from Houston. It is headed by a command communicator whom the men address as CAPCOM. The CAPCOM's function can best be described as that of a spokesman for the ground support network. For about nine minutes, the time the spacecraft is within reach of the Guimas antennas, he links the spacecraft's crew with the mission control center in Houston. The CAPCOM does not make decisions or give commands to the craft. These functions are reserved for the flight director in Houston. But the CAPCOM must, when the spacecraft appears above his station and the instruments on the many display panels come alive before him and around him, quickly analyze the craft's performance. He must compile pressures, voltages, temperatures into a status report. He must give a go or no go on the many subsystems. He must brief Houston and the spacecraft's pilots clearly, concisely, swiftly. Okay. Uh, like, uh, we're showing 1-1-4 on plus-y tank manifold pressure on the agenda. Is it over? Negative, it's decreasing. That's permanent. The CAPCOM is backed by a team of experts who monitor the subsystems and appraise him of their status. Here, a man monitors a gena. Another, Gemini. While two aeromedes, physicians, watch over the physical well-being of the spacecraft's pilots. The hardware proper are the responsibility of the station's permanent staff. Their performance is monitored by the station's supervisor of maintenance and operations and by his assistant. Computer engineer Bob Gartner probably is the man who has become most intimately involved with the Guimas community. He married into it. And he speaks with warmth at the beginning of the customs involved with courtship here. I've been so accustomed to them for so long. Really, they're not special to me. I've been in Latin American countries now for about six years. So, uh, I probably have more of their viewpoint than I do of the stateside anymore, you know, the chaperoning and what have you. Well, uh, no such thing as going to a drive-in movie or even a normal movie unless you take your long-term sister or possibly both and no drives in the country alone and they just don't allow you long period. If you're visiting, you generally have regular visiting hours to put you. Don't get outside of unless it's some special occasion or something. Well, my father and my mother, they have to know they have to know who oh, he probably was before I can go out with him. I mean, I remember I used to work in a flyer, like I said, like he said. And, uh, he used to take me home. Well, he didn't use to take me home but he took me home three or four times until my father found out. When my father found out I had to go and come back in my own car. Well, not in my own car. I got a car from the company I was working for. So, because they didn't know me. Anything. Well, especially if he's from another country. Like you, as an American. Before we get married. The stranger always has to prove himself worthy of the trust and the affection of his host. This is an old and inevitable challenge. It had to be met by Bob Gardner individually as by the tracking station as a whole. Senor Guillermo Vero, the station secretary and public relations man is a citizen of Guimas. As such, he is deeply aware of the community's feelings. Well, at first they were distrustful because they had the idea that this was to be a military base. And they naturally looked forward to the launching of missiles from this base. And they were, I think, that aided in that belief because of some reports published in the Mexico City papers. Certain newspapers which refer to the local station as a military base. And they also mentioned that there would be marines and United States Army airplanes and things like that. They really got the wrong the wrong start. The information was wrong to start with. But as the site was completed and doors were open to all visitors, they have a very good understanding what our work is. And you can tell every time we go to a party or we organize one that we are part of the community now. Everybody. Every day life with the people of Guimas, the station staff makes a strong effort to tell them what the work they are doing. We show them the movies, usually of each preceding flight or launching. And we even carry the movies, the films to the neighboring towns, particularly to the schools. I managed to do that because I enjoy that very much. I feel that especially the children, the school children should participate in the facilities because it's so much more knowledge for them. One of the most important things is the fact that the Guimas Tracking Station does have a future here in Mexico. This future is our support of Project Apollo. This involves an expansion of the station and increase in the size of the station and the amount of equipment we have. I think that one of the reasons for our having been selected to support Project Apollo is because of the the outstanding, good relationships we have with the host community. The Guimas story has the story of the NASCARM network. It's the story of space-age communications. It involves the newest and most complex techniques known to man. But it also involves the oldest and simplest. It involves man's ability to design and operate stunningly sophisticated electronic equipment. It also involves his ability to develop a warm relationship with his fellow men. The two-fold challenge has been recognized by the men of NASCARM. And it is being met successfully.