From Wheelchair to Free Floating: Mission Astro Access
“Oh my God, I’m standing!” I literally shouted that phrase at the top of my lungs with joy, all with an ear-to-ear grin across my face.
It doesn’t seem like much to celebrate. In fact it’s so commonplace that it’s just like breathing; most people don’t even think twice about it.
For me, it was a sensation that I haven’t felt in 15 years. Even more strange, that experience came while at one sixth of Earth’s gravity, or about the same gravity as you’d get on the surface of the moon.
On October 17, 2021, myself and 11 other ambassadors took part in the first ever zero-gravity flight here on Earth for people with disabilities. It’s called “Mission: Astro Access”, and this was flight 1. We performed demonstrations to show that it only takes minor modifications to make any and every spacecraft accessible to people with a wide variety of circumstances. That included people who are blind or low vision, people who are deaf or hearing impaired, and people with mobility problems, whether that be using prosthetics or in my case, using a wheelchair following a spinal cord injury.
Let me take a second to explain.
How I Got Here
When I was 12, in my middle school gym locker room, I was sucker-punched in the stomach by a bully and subsequently paralyzed. The last time I stood independently was May 18, 2006 at 7:02 a.m. That changed the course of my life and led me to this story.
After that punch I gave up my budding career as a child actor. Instead of an acting camp in the Catskill Mountains of New York, I ended up at a small space camp in Ramapo, New York called the Challenger Centers for Space Science Education. While there, I saw the launch of STS-118, which carried the first educator into space since the Challenger disaster in January 1986 claimed the lives of seven crew members, including school teacher Christa McAuliffe. I was hooked!
Not only did I go on to volunteer and eventually work for the organization for 12 years running simulated space missions and teaching Lego robotics, but it sparked my desire to learn more. I read every book and web article I could, watched every Discovery Channel documentary, and followed every space shuttle mission from launch to landing.
I had thought I might want to go to space, but I knew it would never be possible. NASA only takes the so-called “right stuff”. That originally meant white males, typically test pilots, who were muscular, tough, and could withstand any and every medical test thrown at them. That definition later expanded to include women, then people considered “minorities”, then non-military flyers like scientists and yes, teachers. Still noticeably absent from that list is people with disabilities.
I always thought with such rigorous testing, I could never fly. In fact I would fail immediately since I wouldn’t be able to stand up in the interview room. Looking back on it now, that was one of my main reasons for turning instead to space journalism and as I sometimes call it, “space geekdom”. If I couldn’t be on the rocket, I wanted to surround myself with all aspects of a mission. I want to see the rocket up close, meet the astronauts, preview the exact experiments they’d be doing, and of course feel and hear that launch. I thankfully was afforded that opportunity after becoming a founding member of the Talking Space podcast, which 12 years later is still on the air.
The next closest thing to space was a “zero-g” flight, essentially an airplane goes up and down in parabolas, and for a certain point in each parabola, you get about 30 seconds of weightlessness. In 2007 Professor Stephen Hawking got a chance to fly on one of those planes. I remember seeing the picture and the smile on his face and knowing I wanted that to be me.
Little did I know I’d be on that exact same plane, “G-Force One” belonging to the Zero Gravity Corporation, in 2021.
Mission: Astro Access
I happened to see an application for “AstroAccess” from a friend who helps on Zero-G flights and was working with the non-profit organization. I saw a chance to finally realize one of my life-long dreams. So I applied and waited. Then waited more.
I was finally told I was a semi-finalist and that they wanted to do in-person interviews. In a bit of irony, the interview was done at the Kennedy Space Center press site, where I was working the Inspiration 4 launch. That SpaceX mission launched four civilians into space, not accompanied by a single astronaut. One of the four crew members, Haley Arcenaux, also became the first person in space with an internal prosthesis. It turns out it was all a ruse. I had already been selected and they wanted my raw reaction. That’s what they got, although not a lot of words since I was speechless. The same day spaceflight as we knew it changed, the same day civilians got to orbit the earth, was now the same day I learned I’d get to float.
It was also that day where for the first time in my life, it actually dawned on me that I could fly into space, either orbital or suborbital, and become an astronaut. This despite the fact I can’t walk or stand. My new goal was no longer just to go on a Zero-G flight, but to use what we learn and make these small adaptations so I could fly into space.
After a month or so of zoom calls, we all arrived in Long Beach, California. This is the first time all 12 ambassadors met. This was the first time we actively became a real crew. On top of that, we got to meet the support staff, those who would help us on the flight as well as those helping with the logistics on the ground a-la mission control. However we had a team, a crew, and a mission.
We broke up into groups based on our needs during the flight. I was with the five other crew members in the mobility group. Also on our team George Whitesides who was the CEO at Virgin Galactic, Will Pomerantz who is employee #1 at Virgin Orbit, and retired NASA astronaut Cady Coleman to name a few of the extremely talented people gathered on the west coast.
The Objectives
For me I had three objectives to complete. First prove I can “station-keep” or stay in place. Then prove I can move point-to-point, in particular towards a specific spot to simulate getting back to a seat before reentry on a real flight. Finally, prove I could control my body in microgravity, in particular my legs, but also test my range of motion when not under the pressure of 1G.
It seems simple. Stay put, move, and don’t do the splits. I can assure you it’s not.
The first thing to figure out, how to get onto the plane and to my “spot”. Getting onto a normal airplane typically requires transferring to a narrow “aisle chair” and then transferring to an actual seat. Thankfully we had a very steep ramp that loaded right into the cargo door of our modified Boeing 727, then just transfer into the seat. Easy. Next, how do I get from that airplane seat to the floating area?
George had a brilliant idea, a foldable seat like you’d bring to a sporting event to cover those uncomfortable bleachers. We found one with handles underneath it, and with the help of George, Will and Zero-G Flight Director and Yuri’s Night Executive Director Tim Bailey, I was on the floor.
For this particular flight, each of us had a yoga mat that simulated our spacecraft seat. The goal, get back to that spot. My case was a little different. Since I have no control over my legs at all, we decided to make my landing zone a little more complex. My spot became two foam wedge pillows that you might use to sit up in bed while reading or watching tv, both taped together, and a foam pillow rolled up into a log for use under my knees. It was perfect.
The only thing that might not be perfect is landing. So just before the first parabolas, we used one of the most complex, space-aged tools you can imagine to create a landing zone on the floor — duct tape. If my hips were right next to the tape, then we were perfect.
Next problem, not doing the splits. My suit was modified with a simple Velcro strap. It unstowed from one of my legs and held my legs together just between the knee and the ankle. Then it was just a matter of figuring out how tight.
That was it, that was everything we could prepare for ahead of any parabolas. There was one more suit modification, but that didn’t come into use until weightlessness.
Let’s Fly
I’m laying on the floor, leaned up against the wedge feeling just like I’m inside a spacecraft waiting for the engines to fire and to blast off towards the skies.
First up, Martian gravity, or 1/3rd what we typically experience. The plane pulls into a climb, the G-forces building up against my body. You hear the engines pull back and they shout “Martian gravity”. I didn’t really know what to do. I didn’t feel that much different from normal gravity, if anything it felt like when an airplane starts descending towards the airport. I basically took one hand and bounced up and down for the 30 seconds. I was really waiting for that first feeling of true Zero-G.
Next up, Lunar gravity, or 1/6G. I figured this is a warm-up for the real thing. So, same thing. We pull up, get some Gs, then as we tip over my body feels different. It feels almost tingly, but definitely lighter. It takes less effort to move my arms. So I decide to push like I did during the Martian parabola. The next thing I know my legs are acting like a pendulum. My feet stay in place as my body now moves upward. 3 seconds prior I was lying on my back. I take a second and look, and realize I’m vertical. For the first time in 15 years I am standing. I quickly put my arms on George and Will’s shoulders to get some balance, as well as take a second to soak it all in.
That was one of the most freeing feelings. It’s something I hadn’t experienced in more than a decade. To be at eye level with these two men helping me felt surreal. All three of us had the biggest smiles as we realized the monumental achievement we just made. Then about 30 seconds later it’s over. When asked what I want to do for my second lunar parabola, it was just one sentence. “I want to do that again.” And that we did. It was just as freeing the second time, but this time I could really appreciate it since the first time it caught me off guard. I had forgotten what it felt like to stand, and suddenly it all came right back.
After a short gap, now comes the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The plane pulls up hard, this time feeling 1.8G, almost twice the force of gravity holding me down. I take the wise advice of those who’ve done this before and pick one point of the ceiling and just stare at it.
Then, the engines throttle back and my stomach feels like it’s about to go into my chest — but it doesn’t. Instead my whole body all just floats up simultaneously. I give one push off of the floor and I’m flying. Nothing is holding me down, all that surrounds me is two very caring helpers watching closely to see what my body does, and air.
The strap doing exactly as intended as my legs float around but not apart. I enjoy the feeling as very soon I realize I’m coming awfully close to the ceiling. I quickly grab onto the rope railing that’s about 2/3rds up the side of the plane. It’s a rope that I’ll become very familiar with for the 11 parabolas that followed this one, and waited for the call “Feet down, coming out.”
That means we’re about to hit gravity again. You’ll notice two important words in that sentence — feet down. My feet, while together, are all over the place. Thankfully Will and George guide me back down, and about three seconds later my hips are lined up with the tape, I’m on the wedge and giggling like a schoolgirl as we once again enter the higher gravity.
My third objective was body position. Essentially, could I control the position of my legs? One of the main objectives was to get into a kneeling position. It’s something more compact, it gives me more control and more stability in weightlessness, and possibly in the future a grip point to stay in place (i.e. Velcro on the knees so I don’t float away from the wall). To do this, a small piece of fabric was lifted on my suit. Literally only big enough to allow two fingers to slide in, but in weightlessness, that’s all you need.
I pull my legs in with the small flap of fabric. With my legs still strapped together, my legs start coming inward. I realized I may have pulled a little too fast as small movements go a long way when there’s no resistance. Sure enough, I see my knees coming right up towards my chest. I’m watching my legs so closely that when I finally look straight out, I realize my face is in the ceiling. I was confused, so the next parabola I tried it again. With a much more gentle movement I get my knees perfectly bent, and once again I’m face-first on the top of the plane. I thought if anything that would cause my body to spin backwards. Instead, it gave me upward momentum, meaning more time with my friend ‘the ceiling’.
As the parabolas go on, I’m getting more nimble. Eventually I decide to let go of the rope. At one point I test that simple idea of point-to-point movement. I push off the wall and aim myself at one point on the ceiling. I hit the target and immediately push off again, aiming for that exact same spot that I launched from. Bingo! I hit it right on target.
A lot of the time I did watch my legs very closely since I didn’t know what they were going to do. I think that’s why I held onto the rope so often, because if I knew my upper body was secure, I could take the time to study the behavior of my lower extremities. However, there were a few more adventurous parabolas.
You’ve seen everyone try it while weightless — doing a flip. I wanted to try it. So as I got more used to that Zero-G feeling we gave it a try. I float up, some gentlemen come over and spin me counterclockwise like the hands on a clock. A few seconds later and I’m upside-down. It took me a moment. I thought, ‘Wow, a lot of people are on the ceiling for this parabola’. No dummy. It took a second to realize it was me whose head was on the floor and feet were on the ceiling. I wasn’t right-side up. As strange as it was, I didn’t feel like my head got heavy. In Zero-G, blood doesn’t rush to your head, so being the wrong way up didn’t feel any different than if I were actually upright.
Another parabola that stood out to me had a personal touch. Back in 2005 my grandparents took me to a New Year’s celebration in Delray Beach, Florida. It was called First Nights. At 8 p.m. they shot out ping pong ball cannons. My grandparents must’ve collected two dozen of them. Through every major moment in my life, a ping pong ball from that night randomly shows up. That includes college graduation, getting my first car, my first job, adopting my first pet. So before the flight I get a special delivery — a ping pong ball from that very night with a note in sharpie, “Do balls float in Zero-G?” Well I was determined to find out.
I told my team what I was about to do. Using advice I was given before flight I take the ball out of my arm pocket, hold it up in the air, and slowly pull my hand away from it. It was at that moment that it really hit me that I was actually floating in Zero-G. Just like you see them do on the International Space Station, when I let go it just floated there. Didn’t drop, didn’t rise up, nothing. I gently tap it with one hand and slowly watch it float away from me. I reach my hand out behind the ball and it floats its way back into the palm of my hand. The answer for my grandparents is “Yes, they certainly do!”
My Observations
During the flight I made two other observations. First, I noticed I wasn’t in any pain. In 1G I deal with arm and wrist pain from wheeling, neck and shoulder pain from transferring, and back pain from multiple surgeries. Once weightless, I noticed I felt really good. Nothing hurt at all. In fact, my body almost seemed to be thanking me for finally giving it an environment where it could stretch itself out and take a break from its usual burden of keeping me upright and moving.
The second observation came after some great advice. Someone suggested taking one parabola to stop and watch everyone else and to take a mental snapshot. I did just that. I remember rotating to my right, still holding onto the rope while just floating, and taking it in. Every single person was struggling the same way I had to adapt to weightlessness. Yet every single one of them eventually got to a point where they were moving around with ease. People were floating sideways, some had their prosthetic legs floating in the air, and others were just giggling away.
In that moment I realized that Zero-G is the great equalizer. All of us have totally different disabilities, and yet we were all struggling with the same basic tasks and then succeeding at super-human tasks. It wasn’t just the ambassadors either. Everyone on board was just floating and moving in a way that felt so effortless. In that moment you couldn’t tell if the person you were looking at had a disability back in 1G or not. At that moment I realized all of us were floating equally. Weightlessness turns disability into super-ability.
Finally as we get towards the end I’m floating and look down and see a piece of candy go flying under my feet. To me I just giggle. It doesn’t seem strange anymore. It feels normal and it feels good. The only time I ever felt off was back in 1G when we took breaks between parabolas. I was so used to having 1.8Gs pushing up against my body. Then I was used to Zero-G. In fact, both felt kind of similar in that my motions were both slower and more methodical. Once we hit normal gravity, I go to sit up and get dizzy instantly. Everything is no longer in slow-motion, and my body knows it.
With the help once again of Will, George, and Tim, I make it back to an airplane seat the same way I got onto the floor. A simple lift while on that folding chair and I have officially completed my mission.
Back on Terra Firma
The whole time I had the biggest grin on my face. Many people pointed it out, and as Will and George mentioned, it quickly became contagious among the three of us. It took me until after the flight to realize how independent I really was. I thought that every parabola Will and George were holding onto me, controlling me in some way. It turns out most parabolas they were completely hands off. I could move point to point, stay in place, and adjust my body. All three goals were accomplished eventually on my own.
Now that I’m back on terra firma and officially zero gravity certified, I can reflect back. We proved space is for everybody. Disability or not, I could do everything an able-bodied astronaut would. We managed to get back to that tape mark 14 out of 15 times. For a first ever try I’ll take that batting average.
What would I do if I could fly again? I would definitely want to find new ways to explore around the plane. Secondly, I would want to test new ways to stay in place now that I know I can bend my knees. Possibly some sort of velcro attachment that I could extend, stick to the wall, and then remove if I need to move or when gravity returns.
Lastly, I spent most of my time slowly floating up that it was a rush getting back down. The only thing I couldn’t completely do on my own was get back to the mat. Now that I know how to maneuver better in that weightless environment, I would want to rush to get myself onto the ceiling, and use the remaining 20 seconds to guide myself back to my spot on my own. It might take some additional straps or handles, but I feel that if I can prove that, I can absolutely fly in a spacecraft.
This mission gave me a new feeling of freedom, even more than what I had when I could walk. It inspired me to want to go to space for real one day, feel that feeling and see our beautiful blue marble. Most importantly, and I hope you reading this agree, it proved to the world that take away gravity and people who are otherwise considered disabled can not only survive but thrive and that we all deserve a chance to fly to space. We too have ‘the right stuff’.
