After some poking around, Latham found a hatch in the machine room above the elevator that enabled him to hoist the pieces up the final stretch.

Despite the occasional hiccup—like when strong winds almost swept away the partially-assembled dome—colorful characters made the task quite fun, Latham said. For instance, Latham remembers the head of the rigging crew, whose encouragement involved not only commands about force, mass, and acceleration but some “spicy language” as well.

“After it was all assembled, he approached me very meekly and asked if he could bring his bible class into the telescope room,” recalled Latham, who was fascinated by the contrast and happy to oblige.

Ever since the installation—funded by busines entrepreneur Lee Loomis—was completed, that tradition of openness has continued.

“I always emphasized that we should make the telescope available to anyone with a little training,” Latham said. ”I think there is enormous value in being able to do something yourself, get your hands on the equipment, and make your own mistakes.”

DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

Upon entering the observatory, visitors are encircled by the emerald-green dragons, turquoise sea-monsters, husky gray dogs, and fiery phoenix that blaze across the walls around the roughly 2,000-pound telescope.

Each painting puts its own spin on traditional iconography: the Sagitarrius constellation is depicted with Egyptian flair, another adopts a Chinese motif, and yet another portrays the classic scene of Perseus rescuing Andromeda from the sea monster Cetus.

These paintings were not the work of an ancient mythology professor, but a final project in Science A-17. Beyond these paintings, project options included writing music that followed Kepler’s laws for the music of the spheres and choreographing dances that represented planetary movements.

“You can imagine a professional observatory being a really dry place,” said current Student Astronomers at Harvard-Radcliffe President Tom S. Rice ’12. “But the paintings add a really romantic element.”

Faded photographs depicting the telescope’s installation, old Crimson articles about STAHR, and images of galaxies fill the remaining bits of wall.

An outdated computer sits on a desk next to a bookshelf of old astronomy texts—the “rejects” from Cabot Library, according to STAHR Observatory Manager Kristin I. Barclay ’14.

“The computer doesn’t connect to the internet, so it’s essentially a very expensive CD player,” Barclay said.

Latham and Gingerich were known for playing a different astronomy-related tune at the beginning of every class, and challenging students to connect its lyrics to the day’s lesson.

“I’m convinced that a handful of the students would get that little extra motivation to come to lecture just to see what music I was going to pick,” he said, recalling music ranging from the Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun,” to “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen (for its famed lines “Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Figaro,” of course).