Pondering upon that which brought her peace of mind, she felt comfortable with the contributions she had made to the world. She had made achievements in science, but she was more intrigued by the delightful people who had been a unique part of her life. No matter her grasp of the seemingly sane, she admired this beautiful angel who graced each stage of her life and who glowed with iridescent colors imperceptible to many. She had been there in benevolence within her dreams throughout her eighty-eight years in her own unique, somewhat extraordinary and sometimes normal-seeming, and yet unusual journey. She had met many brilliant people. Still, she wished she could reach many more, but life as she understood it came with a beginning and an end. Her two dear and young friends, Eliza and Yesha, had assured her that science within Pathway Industries had come with an opportunity to continue on. She could continue life in a healed and optimized state, as an immortal. Knowing those truths, she decided to lend herself to science and let them do their best, but only as she went to her rest first, as her God had planned. If her God saw fit to bring her back to this mortal realm, she would accept that.
A night-light had been installed, so when she looked up at her ceiling, a giant mural of the Andromeda Galaxy lay above her within her field of view. It seemed to glow after she reached behind her nightstand to turn the light switch to the off position. Again, she repositioned herself, this time settling on her back to lay to rest. As she put her head on her pillow, she sighed.
She had taken residency within the Princeton Assisted Living Facility, due to suffering from various stages of dementia. Luckily, the facility and her family gifted her with the ability to look up at the Andromeda Galaxy mural on her ceiling each night. Doing so brought her a sense of normalcy. Vesha marveled at the blessings of her own life with pause and gratitude. She embraced the rich complexities of love and reflected upon the miracles of experience. She contemplated upon her pursuits of happiness and the gifts her faith had given her as it tempered her fervor toward the complexities of science. She felt as though truth lay somewhere within both, or quite possibly between the two. Perhaps science and faith were merely portions of the truth. Maybe the answers to everything were scattered and hidden in places yet to be discovered.
The tug of the Universe beckoned.
She began to drift and think about how the intricate details of her life – this day, in particular, had been perfect. The visit had gone as planned; the weather outside had been clear; the evening had been perfect for viewing the nighttime sky. Quite warm for winter, it had been 49° Fahrenheit and had turned into an evening of delight shared with clear skies, a very slight crescent Moon, and lovely company. With one last gaze of the Universe and one final and fascinating view of the stars, nebula, and galaxies using her Orion SkyQuest XT10 Classic Dobsonian Telescope, installed on the balcony outside the sliding door of her living quarters, she found herself endlessly impressed as she scanned in the directions of Cassiopeia, Orion, and back to Andromeda. It had been given to Vesha for her eighty-fifth birthday by her daughter, who had discovered a month after Vesha’s birthday that she had terminal cancer, and sadly passed away just six months later. Enjoying this gift from her sweet and thoughtful daughter, Vesha knew there was yet so much for humanity to understand, and so much further that civilization could go. “Maybe she is flying in Heaven with my dream angel. Maybe she is with Ralston, playing a game of golf in some other Universe.”
Returning to what she knew was reality and contemplating the mechanics of such a fine and modern instrument, Vesha had used many powerful telescopes before, observed deep into the Universe, and made many scientific journal entries, but this one was special, it was not only a gift from Jillian, but it had demonstrated to her how far science had advanced. In her younger days, it took buildings the size of a home to see what she could see with this small telescope, just about as tall as she, with its capabilities—abilities that were similar to those she had found in professional observatories from her younger years. She was glad that now this was available to so many young and aspiring astronomers today. “Maybe they will develop something that can be shared with the public that will afford everyone the opportunity to see with more clarity and detail the planets of our Galaxy and within the Galaxies just this side of the Cosmic Microwave Background. Perhaps, they’ll be able to derive the full complexity of our Universe, someday.”
Vesha had made an effort to stargaze every clear night, since the doctors had told her that due to her condition, stargazing would help her to stay grounded, triggering memories of critical experiences and influential people and ideas in her life.
Family and friends had visited Vesha where she was staying for the Christmas and Hanukkah holiday festivities in Princeton, New Jersey. Missing among those that attended were her daughter and husband; for them, the beautiful flicker of light had faded away—gone the way of the wind leaving behind them the wispy smoke of distant memories and the unforgettable greatness of their lives. Her children, Daniel, Chris, and Avery, her five grandchildren, including Jillian’s daughter, Lara, and her great-granddaughter had all gathered with her friends, Eliza, Yesha, Najem, Jasmine, James, Amber, and Erin to celebrate the festivities together and this visit had been one of the most wonderfully charming parts of the season. Despite minor frustrations and lapses in memory, Vesha recalled quite pleasantly the holiday greetings exchanged, the stories told, and the smiles shared. To her, life had been lived to its fullest, and she felt that her pursuit of happiness had been blessed with a pleasant bookend; this was home. Her family had sung songs, they had exchanged gifts, and everyone had reminisced upon life’s adventurous journeys and fondest memories—her domicile was still decorated for both Christmas and Hanukkah, and the scent of pine, holiday spices, and the smoke of blown out candles lingered in the air. Vesha had given and received goodbye hugs and kisses from those who she felt closest to throughout life.
As she continued to contemplate, she began to find herself drifting away from the affairs of the day to the very beginning of her life. Her Father, Lukas, had emigrated from Lithuania to the United States and had changed his last name from Petrauskas to Celeste more than a century ago. Her Mother, born Irena Cara, had been an American immigrant from what is now known as Moldova. Lukas and Irena were both Jewish immigrants in the early days of the 1900s and shared a fascination for science. As life took its course, they both found each other and fell in love in Philadelphia while working together at Bell Telephone, until their marriage shortly after.
Her father continued to work at Bell as an electrical engineer, yet because of specific workplace rules that existed during those days, only one family member could work there at a time. Luckily, with their first child on her way, Irena did her best to prepare for their newborn. Vesha’s older sister, Evelina Celeste, came into this world first, and just as it would be for Vesha in the years that followed, Evelina was raised well. Later on, in Evelina’s life, she would become an Administrative Judge for the US Department of Defense—an honor deserving of its own story.
On a lovely day in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, July 23, in the year of 1928, Vesha Florence Celeste came into this world. Her parents had shared with her many times how beautiful that summer day was, which had made the experience an unforgettably pleasant memory—they never failed to remind Vesha of how adorable she was as a little baby girl. While she couldn’t remember more than vicarious details about that experience, she wistfully and fleetingly recalled the memories of her journeys with her beautiful dream angel in those younger years, as well as the move to Washington, DC, when she was ten-years-old.
Washington, DC in 1938 had an air of hope; it was teaming with genius minds, the arts and entertainment industries were in full bloom, and Vesha had become entranced by astronomy. The home base of a bustling and free country, full of vim and vigor, had added to how much it was that she fancied the breaks she would take from her studies during each day to contemplate her dreams of the stars and ponder on what was out there so far away and just beyo
nd our abilities to see. Vesha began to look forward to each night and became ensconced for hours merely gazing upon the stars as they sped by. Her mother would catch her doing so quite routinely, but she knew she did it to stay awake while doing her studies. Nevertheless, she would tell Vesha, “Don’t stay up all night hanging out by the window.” When she was done with her lessons, she would rest and go on more journeys of love and honor, with her angel, Sky. No matter her dreams, she kept them private and carried herself embracing the reality of each day.
Lukas continued to cultivate his daughter’s love for the Cosmos and began to take her to science and astronomy conventions regularly. These conventions, in the heart of DC, was where she, in 1940 and only thirteen-years-old, met Najem Grace, for the first time, who was fifteen at the time. Najem had moved to Baltimore with her family, and shortly thereafter put together another one of her many astronomy clubs. On this occasion, she had traveled to Washington, DC to enjoy some of the university conventions. The world of physics in all of its forms was expanding and understanding how the mechanisms that governed how the Universe worked was exciting to an increasing segment of society, as well as to both Vesha and Najem. Finding themselves as the two youngest members of the audience, they quickly warmed up to each other’s love of all things related to space and the future and became pen-pals for life. They spent time with each other during these visits talking for hours about the stars and how to improve the quality of life, visiting every couple of weeks for more than two years. After Najem finished high school, however, they rarely had an opportunity to see each other. Life kept them apart, but they still wrote letters and eagerly sent them in the mail hoping for a return letter.
Two years after moving to DC, in 1942, her father, who mentored, taught, and inspired her—proud of her love of science, helped her build her first telescope to peer out into the heavens. She wasted no time that glorious evening, taking her telescope out to the small backyard and peering up into the sky. “Fitting,” she thought, “no wonder I named my angel, Sky.”
While her home environment was supportive, a couple of years later in high school, life became somewhat dynamic. Her parents had reinforced her efforts, but when asked by her professors what she was planning to do once she graduated, Vesha shared her honest and sincere interest in studying science, and upon doing so she was rebuked. She remembered how she had confided with one professor about her plans to study astronomy in college and how she had planned on pursuing that as a profession. Her science teacher, despite hearing as she confidently shared her hopes, her intentions, and her dreams, and having full knowledge of her incredible work ethic, as well as her dedication to her studies and scholastics, winning her outstanding academic achievements, dismissively responded to her, “You’ll do alright so long as you stay away from science.”
She remembered that day how she came home a bit taken back, a bit perplexed, and a little out of sorts. “Was this how things were going to be for women in science? Would more than half our human potential be silenced in the name of societal norms?” she thought.
Both of her parents picked up on her emotional cues and asked her what had happened, listened to her, and then lovingly reminded her that she could do anything that she put her mind to. “You should never let another individual destroy your hopes, your dreams, or your resolve,” her mother told her. Her parents encouraged her to write to her friend, Najem, and let her know what had happened. Perhaps Vesha wasn’t alone in society’s duplicities. They also shared with her that they felt it was honorable from their point of view that she desired to continue putting her hopes in the starry night sky.
Her parents loved and supported her through her studies because that was her wish, that was what she wanted to do, that was what inspired her, and they trusted and loved her no matter her choices. Vesha had demonstrated and proved to them for many years that she could excel in and would be an asset to the science community or any field of study that she put her mind to.
That night, before falling asleep, she had thought about what her parents had said and had appreciated them for their support, their kindness, and their love. As she drifted into her dreams, there was Sky, her dream angel, heralding her along, and letting her know, “Your dreams are yours to pursue, they are beautiful, and you can’t let anyone slow you down.”
Lukas and Irena mentored Vesha on setting personal goals, developing her own code of ethics, and being driven from within by her own guiding standards. They had motivated her intrigues for many years, by providing an enriching environment that would cause her curiosity in the sciences to blossom; she had been in a setting that had balanced her spiritual life with her ambitions for a career, which in turn fomented her dedication toward understanding the beauty and complexities of her Universe. Her father had reminded her that when he signed her up for membership in that advanced science program for youth years ago, where she had met Najem, she would come home and enthusiastically share the exciting developments and discoveries as revealed by the professors, the faculty, and the scientists. He assured her that he had taken her to these meetings regularly, because he had great hope in her and in her potential for a positive impact on life, on science, and on society. He told her that she would burn bright no matter the challenge.
The struggles for equality for women in science were pretty rampant in the US in those days, as were similar unfortunate circumstances throughout the world. In addition to the bustle of society that brought her joy through her younger years, the world was significantly impacted by surrounding droughts and economic shortfalls. Adding to that era, were the events of the 1930s and the 1940s—the tragedies and the toll of the effects of the great depression, wars, and the toxicity prevalent in the minds of those who sought to harm others for no reason that could suitably justify the sacrifice of their lives. Notwithstanding, Vesha focused her energies on meaningful conquests by scraping together beat up old materials from nineteenth-century telescopes—much like her friend, Najem would have done, and occupy her time repairing them. She would challenge herself to defy her school counselors by focusing on astronomy with that field of study driving her sites in college.
Vesha graduated from high school in 1944 and never wavered in her pursuit of a career in science; “No one can take my dreams away if I stay focused and dedicated,” she recalled.
Through her studies, Vesha had built a collection of many favorite contemporaries. One of her favorites, Maria Mitchell, had been the first female astronomy professor in US history at Vassar College for Women, in 1865, but she had also been the first American to be recognized worldwide as an astronomer. Maria had, following years of research and dedication, discovered a comet in the nighttime skies above the US in the 1800s. Vesha had chosen to attend this college, and she too spent many hours combing the Cosmos with her shrewd telescope at home, as well as the more robust telescopes on campus. Vesha was the only astronomy major in her graduating class, yet she persisted in her studies as she combed over physics, math, and her other core classes. Perseverance and a deeper understanding of her lessons led to Vesha’s graduation with induction to Phi Beta Kappa—the oldest known honor society for the liberal arts and sciences in the US.
After Vassar, Vesha went on to apply for the graduate astrophysics program at Princeton University, and again, found controversy.
“With the expectations that existed, I knew how things were, and I was aware of the social norms, but I valued astronomy, my goals, and an excellent education—my parents raised me well by supporting me and my life-enriching choices,” she recalled.
Princeton, one of the first colleges of the original thirteen colonies of the US, and now a university, did not send her a graduate catalog in time for enrollment that year and they wouldn’t mail one soon enough or any time within the foreseeable future.
“They were caught up in the sentiments and cultural norms of the times, but fortunately many years later they came around,” she recalled and graciously forgave them. At that time in history, Prin
ceton women were not allowed in science programs, at least not until 1975.
“Just as well,” she thought to herself, as she reflected on the events that ensued shortly after. The first day, following her bus ride to campus, after being accepted to study at Cornell University, in Ithaca, NY, something wonderful happened. “Good things came because of it,” Vesha pondered. She met her life-long love, Ralston. He had been sent to Cornell by the United States Navy to study chemical engineering. She had enrolled in both physics and astrophysics. Vesha recalled her discussions later on, following her studies through the days, the weeks, and the months that followed, with Ralston, and how they shared an affinity for science.
To Vesha, the discussions were intriguing and surprising. She recalled what he said on their first trip to the local park, following a very philosophical conversation, “Perhaps the efforts of great scientists to understand humanity and the Universe will help solve more problems that plague the well-being of so many throughout the world than the currently accepted status quo.”
Young love was not uncommon in those days. Vesha remembered how, not too long after she and Ralston met, their sentiments toward each other had brewed. She even recalled blissfully how little time it took for them to confide in each other the reality of how attracted they were to one another for more reasons than physical appeal alone.
Having grown into a lovely young lady with dark hair, kind blue eyes, and a cheerful and intellectual disposition, she soon was acutely aware that hers was also a disposition very striking to Ralston, “He let me know in so many ways throughout my life how much joy I brought to him. His feelings were reciprocated in kind since he brought so much joy to my life; I saw in him a tall, handsome, charismatic, and very considerate and knowledgeable young man.”
Further than Before- Pathway to the Stars Page 2
