Sound travel & vacuums.

Science in a Nutshell: I still have it. :)

I've always been into knowing. Knowing how a lightbulb works. Knowing why Appomattox Court House is important. Knowing how to do long division. I've questioned a lot, and questioned a lot of people right out of answers. That led me to a lot of searching for answers on my own - browsing encyclopedias, altering the direction of my Erector set motor or tinkering with the gear sizes, gathering pondwater samples (I never knew what to do with these samples, but it seemed very scientific to fill stoppered glass bottles with silty water). Mom and Dad helped, funding my research with "Science in a Nutshell" kits and "Secrets of the Universe" pamphlets-by-mail.


Perhaps my most memorable act of discovery (and most embarrassing) comes about the time my older sister Janelle was in 4th grade. I was still too young to be in school, but my fascination with Knowing had already taken hold. "What did you learn at school today?" was more for my benefit than my parents'. On that particular school day, Janelle's science class had discussed vacuums and the lack of sound travel therein. I was intrigued.

It was time to create an experiment to test this soundless vacuum theory. Though I had not yet encountered the scientific method, I knew the best way to test the validity of any claim is to test it yourself.

It took a few days for the perfect opportunity to present itself, but it finally came one evening before supper. Mom had asked me to go downstairs and do some cleaning. There were wood chips on the carpeting by the fireplace. After I picked up the bigger pieces by hand, I hauled the canister-style vacuum cleaner downstairs to finish the task. I removed the power head and its spinning brushes, using just the long tube extension to suck up the wood pieces. The moment I pressed the on switch, something very Knowledgable clicked in my consciousness. The perfect experiment.

I took a quick glance about to ensure no one was nearby to witness the outcome of the trial, just in case it went terribly wrong (I've since learned that this is not the safest way to carry out an experiment). I had the downstairs to myself. I knelt beside the vacuum cleaner, resting the handle of the cleaning wand on the floor and grasping the shiny surface around the open end of the tube. The sound of air being sucked violently into the barrel was thrilling. I positioned the opening a precise, carefully calculated distance from my mouth, mildly alarmed at the effort it took to inhale against the constant negative pressure of the vacuum cleaner, but determined to complete the experiment. The answer to "Does sound travel in a vacuum?" was about to be discovered.

I opened my mouth, unsure of which sound to make, so I started to quasi-yodel, increasing intensity so that I could hear over the sound of the roaring air intake. The concentration involved in my sound-making must have distracted me from other variables of the experiment – including mouth-tube distance – for suddenly, all sound was muffled as my sounding lips were sucked deftly into the vacuum's tube with a clean *fffwoomp*. It took a few dampened yodels before my lip-locked predicament was registered in my consciousness. A little fright sent adrenaline pumping and I yanked the vacuum cleaner from my face with a ragged *pmoowfff*. It was at that moment that Janelle traipsed down the stairs to call me to supper. Seeing the perfectly symmetrical mark encircling my mouth and my dazed stare, she doubled over in laughter and tripped up the stairs to tell the rest of my family of my mishap.

Some people just don't understand science.