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GALLERY OF UNUSUAL PEOPLE
Meteorites grace every corner of
Harvey Nininger's Sedona,
Ariz., home. Now 75, he still
enjoys hunting new ones.
Scientists took Harvey
Nininger's work lightly until
the Space Age proved the
importance of meteorites
He Chased Falling Stars
By THEODORE BERLAND
People used to scoff at Harvey Nin
inger for chasing around the country
looking for hunks of iron and stone that
fell from the sky. But they don't laugh
at his meteorite hunting any more.
Nininger, now 75 and living in retirement in
Sedona, Ariz., came into his own with the ar
rival of the Space Age. Scientists then realized
that meteorites are the only bits of matter from
beyond the earth that they can analyze chemi
cally in their laboratories.
At one time, nobody cared much that Nininger
owned the largest and best private collection of
meteorites in the world. But as the Space Age
was born, the demand for Nininger meteorites
grew and in 1961 Arizona State University
bought most of his collection for more than a
quarter-million dollars !
Nininger first became interested in meteorites
in 1923 when he was teaching biology at Mc
Pherson College in his native Kansas. The night
of Nov. 9 he spotted his first meteorite, and the
sight of that great ball of fire streaking across
the sky thrilled him and stirred his curiosity.
He turned to books about meteorites. Soon he
had read everything on the subject in the college
library. But that wasn't much, since meteorites
were not considered an appropriate subject for
college study.
But to Nininger, meteorites were "the most
interesting aspect of our universe." He wrote
for books on falling stars. He looked for accounts
of meteorites in newspapers, asked people he met
if they had seen any lately, checked out every re
port he heard about them, and combed Kansas
farms for hunks of rock and iron that had fallen
from the sky.
Before long, he was spending more time with
meteorites than with his college classes. In 1930
he quit teaching entirely and set up a meteorite
hunting headquarters in Denver. His name be
came known all over the West, and reports of
meteorite falls came to him from everywhere.
Although getting reports of falling stars was
no longer a problem, locating them was. Because
meteorites travel thousands of miles per hour,
they cover a lot of territory and often are seen
in several states.
At the report of a sighting, Nininger (and
sometimes his wife Addie) would crank up the
car, rattle down gravel roads, and stop and talk
with every eyewitness available. Most often, the
"eyewitnesses" had gotten their information
secondhand or third-hand.
Only by doggedly traveling and interviewing
could Nininger glean enough verifiable facta to
chart a meteorite's fiery path on a map. Then he
would estimate where it fell and search that
area for a crater and scattered fragments.
IN A FEW YEARS, he had such a formidable col
lection that he decided to open the American
Meteorite Museum in Sedona, Ariz., not far from
the most fabulous meteorite crater in the world.
The giant hole formed when a concentration of
meteorites or a comet smashed into the desert
some 50,000 years ago is almost a mile in
diameter and deeper than the Washington Monu
ment is high.
The Arizona Crater became a rich source of
meteorite fragments for Nininger's ever-growing
collection. And before long, his meteorite
museum had become a popular tourist stop.
His scientific visitors gave him his prickliest
moments. Their most frequent comment was:
"Hmmm, rather interesting, Mr. Nininger, but
of what use are these meteorites?"
But Nininger's day was to come. As the Space
Age dawned, scientists at leading research cen
ters began asking him to sell bits of meteorites
that they could analyze.
In the past few years, meteorites have provided
clues to life elsewhere in the solar system. They
have been used in establishing the age of the
earth at 4.5 billion years. And they have taught
engineers how to design rocket nose cones that
will survive the blazing re-entry into the earth's
atmosphere.
THE FINAL vindication of Nininger's meteorite-hunting
career came in 1961 when Arizona
State University purchased most of his collection
with National Science Foundation funds.
Thousands of specimens were catalogued metic
ulously by Mrs. Nininger and shipped to the
Tempe campus, where they are displayed as the
Nininger Collection.
Today, Harvey and Addie Nininger live in a
new home on a small rise in Sedona. Around
the house are meteorites on end tables and
meteorite book ends, reminders of their star
chasing days.
The Niningers say they just want to enjoy
their nine grandchildren and the scenery. But
Harvey has a small laboratory attached to his
garage, where he still experiments with bits of
meteorites. They both occasionally sneak out to
the Arizona Crater nearby to hunt more frag
ments and even go off on a wild meteorite chase
once in a while.
It's impossible to retire completely when you
have hitched your wagon to a falling star.
Family Weekly, March 10, 1H3
IS