Inside the control room at the New Life Church in Colorado Springs, Colo. Thought to be one of the most powerful and important megachurches in the United States, its lead pastor says that if churches don't embrace new technologies, they'll be left behind.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo.--If you're in charge of what is thought to be one of the most powerful, influential and important megachurches in the United States, if not the world, how do you make sure that your message is reaching the largest possible audience?
To Brady Boyd, the lead pastor at the New Life Church here, the famous, 10,000-plus member nondenominational church that's directly across Interstate 25 from the Air Force Academy, the answer is technology.
It's not that the New Life Church is light years ahead of anyone else--in fact, it may well even be slightly behind some other churches--but to Boyd the key is that he and his large support team are philosophically open to technology.
As part of Road Trip 2009, I stopped in at the New Life Church for an interview with Boyd. I wanted to know how this megachurch uses technology, and just how important tech is considered. The short answer? A lot.
"Churches have to stay current. We're in the communications business," Boyd told me. "The whole purpose of a church is to communicate a message of truth....We have to stay informed and we have to realize that most of the world is rapidly advancing in their ability to communicate."
In particular, Boyd pointed to Web 2.0 technologies like Facebook and Twitter. He said, in fact, that he Twitters constantly and recently maxed out his number of friends on Facebook.
"Advancing with the culture"
It may surprise some who think of churches as musty, behind-the-times institutions that a place like New Life Church, as well as others, are putting so much emphasis at staying on top of Web 2.0 and other technologies.
Indeed, Boyd even alluded to that point himself, suggesting that there are plenty of pastors out there who have fallen behind the times.
"Pastors have to embrace this," he said. "It's a generational gap. A lot of pastors over the age of 50 cannot embrace it, and they have stopped advancing with the culture. I think it's a mistake."
Boyd said it's crucial that someone in his shoes listens closely to what's going on in the world of communications, especially as that world is evolving so quickly. To that end, he said, he has people who give him monthly updates on where technology is going so that he, and New Life Church, don't fall behind.
The New Life Church, in Colorado Springs, Colo.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)One technology Boyd is fond of is podcasting, a medium he has been using to gain a global following of tens of thousands of listeners.
"I have to be aware, when I'm speaking, that I'm not just speaking to the people in front of me," Boyd said, "I'm speaking to people from all over the world, from various cultures, who are going to be listening to me through this Web technology."
But producing such podcasts--both audio and video--is expensive, and Boyd said that worrying about such costs may be another thing holding some churches back.
"It's very expensive, so I think what happens with churches sometimes," Boyd said, "is that because technology is so expensive, churches sometimes stay put. They stop advancing, because cost-wise, it's just so difficult to keep up with the latest technology."
He pointed to the costs of converting New Life Church's video cameras from analog to digital. He said that operation was extremely expensive, and had to be done piecemeal, over time. In addition, the church recently added a 70-foot high-definition screen to the back of its sanctuary that cost more than $100,000, something that had to be planned and budgeted for.
During big events inside the New Life Church, the atmosphere is much like a rock concert--and sometimes it is a rock concert.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)Next up, he said, will be getting to the point where every New Life Church event is live-streamed to the Web. Other churches, he admitted, have already gotten there, so he knows he has to play a little catch-up.
And while an institution like New Life Church, which has thousands of congregants and visitors from all over the world, may be able to afford such a move, that's not necessarily true for other churches, even ones that fall under the category of megachurch.
"Especially in the economic downturn," Boyd said, "I think churches are challenged" with keeping up technologically.
And there's no time to waste, he suggested. Churches, he reiterated, are in the business of communications, and cannot allow themselves to stop spreading their message, no matter what the economic circumstances are. "We have a message that has to be communicated," he said, "and we have to do it well."
Living in fascinating times
As someone who has taken his message on the road, Boyd said he's been amazed watching how technology can help people in the ministry get their word out, and into the most remote places, so much quicker than in the past.
"We're (at) the point now where real-time communication is possible just about anywhere in the world," Boyd said. "I was in a remote place in Africa this past year, and there were people with cell phones out in the bush getting real-time downloads. So for the church, I think we're living in a fascinating time. We used to have to send missionaries around the world and it would take three months by boat to get to the country, and it would take them 20 years to reach every single person in the country. Now we can do that in a matter of minutes and hours."
While Boyd touts the virtues of being up-to-date with technology, no one is claiming that institutions like his and others are breaking ground no one else in the message-spreading business--whatever the message might be--has covered. A case in point is the music industry, where the technology in play at live concerts by big-name acts would put even a megachurch like New Life Church to shame. The same would be true of the film and television industries.
Then again, those industries have catering budgets nearly as big as what almost anyone else can afford when it comes to technology. The point, really, is that each type of business--film, music, news, churches--has upper limits of what's possible economically, and what's important to them is to be as efficient as possible.
"The American church can't measure its success now only by who...comes on Sunday," Boyd said. "Our message is being broadcast more and more through digital means, and they may not ever come to our building, they may never sit in a chair in our church. But they are certainly listening and receiving ministry because of the technology that's available. So the scope of your influence is really unlimited if you're willing to invest the time and money."
Two contestants in the Firefighter Combat Challenge get ready to race.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo.--It's one thing for a track runner to bolt when the gun fires. Imagine how hard it is to jump up from a crouch and race up six flights of stairs while dressed in full firefighting gear and lugging a 42-pound pack of hose.
That's just the very first task in what is known as the Firefighter Combat Challenge (see video below), a nationwide competition involving a series of intense tasks that simulate what fighters deal with on a daily basis.
The tour, which appears in cities throughout the country, pulled through Colorado Springs on Friday and Saturday, and held its brand of racing at the U.S. Air Force Academy where CNET News reporter Daniel Terdiman was on hand as part of his Road Trip 2009 project.
Dozens of teams participated over the two days of racing, much of it in hot sun, and even some heavy winds. At the end of most of the races, the contestants looked absolutely exhausted. But their efforts excited a large crowd that showed up at the academy to watch.
Teams came from all over the country, including from the Air Force Academy itself.
For the next several weeks, Geek Gestalt will be on Road Trip 2009. After driving more than 12,000 miles in the Pacific Northwest, the Southwest and the Southeast over the last three years, I'll be writing about and photographing the best in technology, science, military, nature, aviation and more in Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, South Dakota and Colorado. If you have a suggestion for someplace to visit, drop me a line. And in the meantime, join the Road Trip 2009 Facebook page and follow my Twitter feed.
One of the two 25-ton blast doors that protects the main entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain complex outside of Colorado Springs, Colo.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)
COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo.--If there are two things that drive the folks at the world-famous Cheyenne Mountain complex crazy, it's the widely held public perceptions that, for one, the complex has shut down altogether, and that it is synonymous with NORAD, the North American Aerospace Defense Command.
After visiting as part of my Road Trip 2009 project Friday, I'm here to report that both perceptions are quite incorrect.
For one, the Cheyenne Mountain complex is very much still operational. In some ways, in fact, in a world where existential threats come not from the Soviet Union but from things like natural disasters, cyberattacks, and amorphous terrorist organizations on the hunt for nuclear weapons, it may today even be considered more important than ever.
In its heyday, during the height of the Cold War, it was seen as the nerve center from which U.S. military operations could still conduct business during a nuclear attack. But today, in the post-9/11 era, a whole new set of operational tenants, including U.S. Strategic Command, Air Force Space Command, the Defense Intelligence Agency, the National Security Agency, and the Missile Defense Agency, have moved in.
Secondly, while NORAD does, and has always done, business inside the mountain, the daily operations of its command center moved in May 2008 to the nearby Peterson Air Force Base to form a combined U.S. Northern Command and NORAD command center. Today, the day-to-day NORAD mission at Cheyenne Mountain has combined with U.S. Northern Command and includes a number of missions including training.
"Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station is owned and operated by Air Force Space Command," the NORAD Web site explains. "In fact, NORAD and (U.S. Northern Command) use just under 30 percent of the floor space within the complex and comprise approximately 5 percent of the daily population at Cheyenne Mountain."
It would be dishonest of me to not admit that when I first set about trying to arrange a visit to Cheyenne Mountain, I didn't understand the relationship between the complex and NORAD.
It wasn't fully explained to me until my arrival that my initial request to visit the command center--where all the real action takes place--couldn't be met. But I was able to spend a few hours meeting with Col. Brad Gentry, the commander of the 721st Mission Support Group, which runs Cheyenne Mountain, and taking a rare tour--rare because I was allowed to bring a camera--of the deep underground complex.
And after my visit, I have a much clearer picture of what goes on at the facility, and, my hosts hope, so will the general public.
Mission Support Group
Gentry explained that the MSG is responsible for Cheyenne Mountain's civil engineering, its security--both physical and digital--and ensuring that it remains "America's Fortress," perhaps the most impenetrable command center on Earth. Ultimately, the job is to offer the various other agencies inside the complex "five nines reliability," meaning 99.999 percent, when it comes to power, electricity, air conditioning, water, and more.
According to a fact sheet I was given, the threats that the MSG is geared up for, in descending order of likelihood, but increasing level of consequences, are: medical emergencies, natural disasters, civil disorder, a conventional attack, an electromagnetic pulse attack, a cyber or information attack, chemical or biological or radiological attack, an improvised nuclear attack, a limited nuclear attack, or a general nuclear attack.
Preparing for the various kinds of nuclear attacks, however, has nothing to do with the U.S. Strategic Command's Cheyenne Mountain missile warning center, which, Gentry explained, connects with and collects data from missile sensors around the world.
Still, there is plenty of awareness about the potential for a nuclear explosion at Cheyenne Mountain, and during my tour of the infrastructure, much of that was spelled out.
Among the systems set up to protect the critical operations inside the complex from the most dire attacks are giant, 25-ton blast doors placed deep within the mountain, as well as a tunnel and portal structure designed to deflect a nuclear detonation (see video below).
There are also a network of blast valves set up to ensure safe air, redundant power generators on top of a huge battery bank, a massive diesel fuel reservoir, a 4.5 million gallon reservoir of water used as a heat sink, a system of giant springs designed to allow the 15 three-story buildings inside the mountain to shift up to an inch in any direction in case of an explosion or earthquake, and countless sections of flexible pipe connectors meant to ensure that significant shaking doesn't upset normal operations.
Throughout the Cheyenne Mountain complex, the buildings inside are perched on top of more than 1,000 of these giant springs, which are designed to allow the buildings to shift up to an inch in any direction in case of a nuclear attack or a major earthquake.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET Networks)In essence, the complex is a small city. Six hundred people work there, and as such, there's a medical center, a small store, a cafeteria, and more. Should Cheyenne Mountain be shut down for any reason--what is known in the complex's parlance as a "button up," the personnel left inside "can maintain fitness" at the gym, Gentry said.
And while top brass inside are afforded sleeping suites for use in case of a button up, lesser personnel would still be able to rest there, as the facility maintains a sizable collection of cots.
So finely tuned
When entering the complex, everyone has to go through two sets of the giant blast doors. Though they weigh 25 tons, they're "so finely tuned," Gentry said, that even just two people should be able to swing them shut or open.
At the same time, the doors lock when a series of giant pistons swing forward and into large, corresponding slots. Even the piston system has a backup, though, with levers that can be manually operated to pull open or push shut the pistons.
"People will not ever be trapped in this facility," Gentry said.
That's also true because, should every other system fail, including the blast doors, there's a small trap door inside one of the tunnels that allows people to escape. That's assuming they're not claustrophobic, Gentry joked.
The series of blast valves, meanwhile, are set up so that, should there be an attack, the air inside remains breathable. That's because the valves have sophisticated filters that can clean contaminated air, and which provide a 20-second delay between entering the mountain from the outside and making it inside the blast doors.
Indeed, said Jason Cook, the civil engineering director, the blast doors and blast valves are designed to work in conjunction to protect the complex from the worst possible scenario: a blast wave. With the single push of a button, Cook added, the filters kick in to clean the air, and the doors close. The civil engineering section of the facility even has its own blast door (see video below).
What's more, the complex is set up to shield the interior against an electromagnetic pulse (EMP), which can fry most electronics. Cook said that, in fact, Cheyenne Mountain is the only DOD high-altitude Electromagnetic Pulse certified underground facility. Among the protections are wall-mounted EMP filters called metallic-oxide varistors, which dampen the pulse, as well as a system that allows personnel inside to break away interior electronic systems from the external commercial power systems.
Water supply, however, is something the mountain itself takes care of. While the complex maintains a 1.5 million gallon-capacity reservoir, there's actually a natural spring within the granite that supplies more water than the base uses. That means that the reservoir stores enough water to put out any fire that could break out inside the facility, Cook said.
Out of place and time
In a story she wrote in 2008, the journalist Annalee Newitz wrote of a tour of Cheyenne Mountain she got with a group of science-fiction writers that, "Yesterday, I traveled back in time to the Cold War...The underground base has become the stuff of historical myth and science fiction legend. That's why I felt gripped by the surreal as I walked into its rough-walled cave entrance, then through a gleaming blast door, fully three feet thick and packed with huge, hydraulic pins that slid into place when the door shut."
Having been there now myself, I know what Newitz means. While our daily lives are no longer spent worrying that the Russians might someday launch nuclear missiles at us, there's little doubt that we do face the risks of serious nuclear, chemical, or biological attack.
So for me, while walking through the complex in the Obama era is certainly different than it would have been during the Reagan years, there's no doubt that Cheyenne Mountain is still a place where the worst scenarios have corresponding contingency plans and where the people charged with running it take their jobs very seriously.
Whether America needs a facility like Cheyenne Mountain is not for me to say. But being inside and seeing how the base is put together makes one appreciate the mindset of 1961, when ground first broke on the complex, when it seemed as though the worst could come at any time. Fortunately, that hasn't happened yet. But those involved have been as ready as possible all along.
At the United States Air Force Academy on Thursday, 1,376 basic cadets arrived for initiation.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo.--"Get off my bus!"
As the door opened, those words exploded out and it seemed that everyone within a few hundred feet must have heard them. But there was no doubt the two or three dozen on board did, as they came scurrying off at high speed.
These were one busload of the 1,376 members of the United States Air Force Academy's class of 2013, and, less glamorously, the brand new basic cadets who had arrived here Thursday, many just weeks out of high school.
Accustomed to being on top of their respective worlds--they had high grades, top SAT scores, and were chosen from among nearly 10,000 applicants to the Academy--these men and women were now reduced to being screamed at by fellow students just two years ahead of them.
As part of Road Trip 2009, I was on hand Thursday for what is known as "in-processing," the initiation of the new class of students and I can tell you that the scenes from all those movies of drill sergeants yelling at new recruits at the top of their lungs, blood vessels bulging out of their necks, are not far from the truth.
But that was later in the day. First, the 1,300-plus new students had shown up, many with parents and brothers and sisters in tow, and as an observer, it was hard to tell any difference between that scene and what you'd see at any college's first day.
Yet there was a sense of nervousness and seriousness palpable in the air. It was clear these new students were aware that they were in for something that would take their lives in a new and extremely difficult direction.
But you have to think it's what they wanted.
"I'm feeling a little, I'd say, anxious, nervous, and excited," said Joel Starkey, 18, of Atlanta. "I wanted to fly since I was in about third grade, and I want to be an officer in the military. I want to commit myself to something bigger."
Nearby, an interesting scene was under way. Twin girls were huddled with their family, and when I approached them, I discovered that the girls, Catherine and Irene Joyce, 18 and from Omaha, Neb., were joining up, as was their first cousin, Molly Bush. It turned out that Bush's father was an Academy graduate, as was her sister.
For Catherine Joyce, her first day at the academy--and whatever indignities it might bring--were clearly stepping stones to a career she seemed very certain she wanted.
"It's exciting and I'm honored, and it's a privilege to be here," Joyce said. "I learned about (the Academy) by visiting and speaking with cadets and officers, and everyone in the Air Force told me the best way to become an officer was to come to the Academy."
On the bus
I was allowed to ride one of the buses away from the intake hall and toward the actual grounds of the Academy. Onboard, the basic cadets looked tight and nervous. One of the more senior cadets had gotten on behind them and immediately began barking out commands to quickly find a seat. He leaned over to me at one point and whispered that "it's about to get loud." And then, without warning to the basic cadets, he began screaming out commands, telling them exactly where to hold their hands, not to speak unless spoken to, that they must recite the seven basic--and only--responses to questions they were now allowed and more.
"Have I made myself clear?" he bellowed.
"Yes, sir," the basic cadets called out.
"Have I made myself clear?" he shouted even louder.
"Yes, sir," they responded.
Soon, a woman cadet in the back of the bus began her own shouting, snidely calling out the names of West Point, Annapolis, and the Officer Candidates School, the officer training grounds of, respectively, the Army, Navy, and Marines. "Nobody even comes close," she yelled. "We are the service academy for the last superpower on the face of the planet. You have made the right choice."
By now, the bus had stopped. We were at our destination. But the door hadn't opened yet.
"If any of you are not a person of absolute integrity, stay on my bus," the first cadet hollered. "If you are not willing to sacrifice for your nation, stay on my bus. If you accept the minimum as your own personal standard, stay on my bus. If you are not ready to give your best...stay on my bus. (And) you'd better be ready to live up to the legacy in front of you...and that begins right now!"
With that, the doors opened, and the veteran cadets screamed some more, now ordering the newbies off the bus at an even higher volume than before (see video below).
The freshmen grabbed their gear and hustled off the bus. They ran to where a cluster of blue-uniformed cadets were waiting in front of a large mat emblazoned with footprints for them to stand on.
A fresh veteran cadet stood in front of the group of newbies and shouted out his commands. That they were to keep their feet each at a 22.5 degree angle from their head, meaning that their feet would be open at a 45 degree angle; that their hands should be held, cupped, at their sides, with their thumbs even with the seams of their pants. And then he ordered his cadre of veteran cadets to "correct" any mistakes they saw in how the new cadets were standing.
This, of course, was their excuse to loudly, energetically, and enthusiastically rush around and berate the newcomers. One by one, it seemed, they would be singled out and screamed at for this or that mistake (see video below). I could tell the veteran cadets were enjoying this, finally their opportunity to shift forward their revenge for when this happened to them two years ago.
It went on for a while, and then, finally and mercifully, it stopped, and the new cadets were ordered to grab their gear and head off up a ramp to begin the next rounds of processing.
Box Boy
For many associated with the Air Force Academy, the most memorable basic cadet of the day--and maybe ever--was a tall brown-haired kid who emerged from the bus lugging a giant box on his shoulders. The scene was absurd, and he was immediately set upon by several of the cadre, who shouted out things like, "Are you kidding me," and, "Did you bring your Xbox and your TV?"
This new cadet will forever be known as 'Box Boy,' since he arrived with this giant box. The veteran cadets who welcomed him did so with insults, derision and incredulity.
(Credit: Daniel Terdiman/CNET)Box Boy, as he quickly began to be called throughout the Academy, had clearly miscalculated, and not only would he likely never live down the shame of having brought this giant box with him, but he'd also have to spend the entire rest of the day carrying the box on his shoulders, as basic cadets have to lug their gear with them the entire first day.
Another basic cadet also had attracted a huge amount of attention from the group. At one point, I counted at least seven cadets circled around him, screaming at him and yelling and belittling him. I asked someone why he'd been singled out, and was told that this particular basic cadet had somehow let it be known that he planned on being the first man on Mars, and that his time at the Academy was little more than a brief stepping stone on his way to glory as an astronaut.
He may be right. But on this day, he was just fresh meat, and a prime target for ridicule.
From there, the new cadets went on through several more procedural steps toward actually joining the Air Force. They got immunized, they got haircuts, and then they had to take their formal oath (see video below) to the service. They gathered in a conference room, stood up, repeated the oath as recited to them by a woman officer who, when finished, said simply, "Congratulations, you're now in the Air Force."
Hard to believe it was three years ago
While waiting in the room where the men were getting their hair cut, I came across Cadet First Class--meaning, a senior--Frank Mercurio. He was talking about the new basic cadets and what they must be feeling.
"I think they're real scared, real worried about how hard it's going to be," Mercurio said. "It's going to be the hardest thing they've ever done in their lives up to this point...The first day is so overwhelming. You just get things thrown at you and you can fold up like a deck of cards, or carry through."
I asked him if any of the new cadets ever backed out, and he said that in fact he'd heard that just today, one had gotten off the bus, made it to the mat with the footprints, and "turned right back around and got back on the bus."
It turns out that a few dozen of the basic cadets will end up dropping out or leaving for one reason or another, but most will stick it out and eventually become Air Force officers.
But all that seems so far away when, for the first time, they're sitting in a barber's chair, having their hair shaved off.
I stood and watched as several of the kids went under the razor, going from shaggy-headed to buzz-cut. And then, as one of them got up to leave, his barber, a cheery, flamboyant woman named Hannah Love, said, "Oh, look at how cute you are. Bye."
Correction at 7:10 a.m. PDT: The name of the Marines officers school has been fixed
For the next several weeks, Geek Gestalt will be on Road Trip 2009. After driving more than 12,000 miles in the Pacific Northwest, the Southwest and the Southeast over the last three years, I'll be writing about and photographing the best in technology, science, military, nature, aviation, and more in Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, and South Dakota. If you have a suggestion for someplace to visit, drop me a line. And in the meantime, join the Road Trip 2009 Facebook page and follow my Twitter feed.
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