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By Root 456 0

“It [was] like being shipwrecked on an island,” recalled Kenneth Campbell, who had grown up on the mountain while his father, William, was on staff. “The Director of the Observatory was, I would say,…the czar… He had to see that Mrs. MacDonald didn't break her leg on that back step, as well as worrying about spiral nebulae.” By then the complex housed three senior astronomers, three assistant astronomers, a small group of workmen, and assorted spouses, servants, and children, some fifty people in all. If a hostess sent out an invitation for an evening gathering, it was plainly understood: no clouds in the sky, no party. Astronomy always came first. A new teacher for the one-room schoolhouse was hired nearly every year (as she often ended up marrying one of the astronomers). For relaxation, residents took some clubs over to the rudimentary golf course, eight holes laid out by one of the senior astronomers on a stretch of flat land just below the mountaintop. No need for man-made hazards; they were all natural—ditches, ridges, ravines, and rock formations; the “greens” were oiled dirt. Occasionally a ground squirrel would carry off a ball, mistaking it for a tasty nut.

A biologist visiting Mount Hamilton returned to the valley below feeling as if he had “dwelt awhile upon Mount Sinai,…watched the marshalling of the stars and the dividing of the constellations.” Saturday nights were often held aside for visitors, with loaded stages and buggies coming up the mountain sometimes twenty to thirty in procession. Leaving San Jose, the wagons could take up to seven hours to traverse the twenty-five serpentine miles, passing first through orchards of figs, oranges, olives, and peaches. Always in sight during the slow ascent were the observatory's bright white domes. Not until 1910 did the automobile reduce the travel time to two hours.

Keeler resided with his wife and two children, Henry and little Cora, in part of a three-story residence known as the Brick House, just a stone's throw from the main building, where the telescopes were located. The move to Lick decidedly changed his routine. His research was now curtailed by innumerable administrative duties, especially correspondence with university officials, suppliers, prospective students, colleagues, and the general public. “There are no astronomical phenomena expected to accompany, or precede, the second coming of Christ,” he politely responded to one correspondent. In style and temperament, Keeler was the anti-Holden. “No member of the staff was asked to sacrifice his individuality in the slightest degree,” said Lick astronomer W. W. Campbell. “No one's plans were torn up by the roots to see if they were growing… Keeler's administration was so kind and so gentle, and yet so effective, that the reins of government were seldom seen and never felt.”

Science, though, remained Keeler's prime objective in accepting the directorship. He once again had access to large telescopes situated in a premier environment for viewing, far removed from polluted industrial air. He completed his first paper, the spectral analysis of a peculiar star's outer envelope, within a month of his arrival. For this, he used the famous 36-inch refractor. As director, Keeler could have wielded his power and become the prime user of the 36-inch, but instead he made a daring and momentous decision. He decreed that Campbell, who had become Lick's main spectroscopist during Keeler's absence, would continue using the 36-inch to carry out an ambitious project Campbell had already begun, measuring the velocities of the stars. Keeler, to everyone's astonishment, chose to work on something completely different: getting the disreputable Crossley reflector up and running.

Keeler became interested in reflecting telescopes while he was still director of the Allegheny Observatory. He knew such telescopes would be particularly advantageous for carrying out his specialty—spectroscopy. The thick glass lenses in refracting telescopes tended to absorb certain wavelengths selectively (depending on the glass and lens construction),