 | Astronaut Set Out to Kill 
Lisa M. Nowak appears in an afternoon hearing in Orlando. Afterward, she posted bond of $25,500 and was fitted for an ankle bracelet to monitor her movements. She was expected to return home to Houston. Photo Orlanda Sentinel via Bloomeberg News Photo by Red Huber With Discipline Honed by Training, Police Say, Astronaut Set Out to Kill
By Peter Whoriskey and Daniel de Vise Washington Post Staff Writers Wednesday, February 7, 2007; A01
ORLANDO, Feb. 6 — She prepared for the 950-mile drive from Houston with the discipline of someone who had flown 13 days in space. The steel mallet, folding knife and rubber tube were all catalogued on a handwritten list, police say. She had maps, she had bus schedules and she had a disguise. Thinking like an astronaut, she brought diapers to avoid bathroom stops. Lisa M. Nowak set off for Orlando International Airport seven months after the July 4 launch of the shuttle Discovery, her first trip to space, and probably her last. The NASA astronaut and Navy captain from Rockville was charged Tuesday with the attempted murder in Orlando of an apparent rival for the affections of another astronaut. Nowak, one of 46 women to fly in a space shuttle, is now the first active astronaut to be arrested on a felony charge. She left an Orlando jail Tuesday afternoon with her jacket pulled over her head. Police said Nowak, 43, stalked the younger woman, 30-year-old Air Force Capt. Colleen Shipman, at an airport parking lot early Monday, dressed in a dark wig, glasses and a tan hooded trench coat. Unable to gain Shipman’s confidence, police said, she sprayed her with pepper spray through Shipman’s partially open car window before the car sped away. According to a charging document, she intended to confront Shipman about her relationship with Navy Cmdr. William A. Oefelein, an astronaut who, like Nowak, is based at Johnson Space Center in Houston. Nowak, who is married with a teenage son and twin daughters, told police she and Oefelein had “more than a working relationship but less than a romantic relationship,” according to the document. Nowak carried with her e-mails from Shipman to Oefelein. In a request Shipman filed for an injunction against Nowak, Shipman said she had been stalked for about two months. Neither Shipman nor Oefelein could be reached by phone Tuesday. Oefelein, born in Fort Belvoir, is 41 and has two children. He piloted Discovery to the international space station in December. Nowak might have been planning the confrontation as early as Jan. 23, the day she printed the maps she used to navigate from Texas to Florida, according to a police affidavit. She had obtained a copy of Shipman’s flight plans to Orlando. The affidavit provides this account: Nowak checked into a La Quinta Inn in Orlando under a false name, stashed her car and set off to meet Shipman’s midnight flight from Houston to Orlando. The younger officer was returning to Patrick Air Force Base in Florida. Shipman picked up her luggage, which was late, about 3 a.m. As she waited for the bus to the airport satellite parking lot, Nowak lingered at a nearby taxi stop, wearing the wig and a trench coat. When Shipman boarded the bus, Nowak boarded, too. She got off where Shipman did. Nowak was armed with a steel mallet, a buck knife and a BB gun that resembled a real 9mm semiautomatic handgun. The BB gun was loaded with pellets and was set to fire, according to the affidavit. Walking to her car, Shipman sensed a threat. She heard “running footsteps” behind her. She jumped into her car, locking the door. But before she could pull away, Nowak slapped at the window. Then she pulled at the locked door. “Can you help me please?” Nowak told her, according to the affidavit. “My boyfriend was supposed to pick me up, and he is not here. I’ve been traveling and it’s late. Can you give me a ride to the parking office?” Shipman said she’d send someone to help. Nowak asked to use Shipman’s cellphone. Shipman told her the battery was dead. Nowak said she could not hear Shipman through the window, then began to cry. Shipman opened her window two inches. Nowak sprayed something, later determined to be pepper spray, into the opened window, aiming at Shipman’s face. Shipman drove away, her eyes burning, and sought help, according to police. Police and prosecutors say the evidence suggests that Nowak might have wanted to get into Shipman’s car and kill her, possibly at Shipman’s house. Citing other details — the handwritten list, an assumed name — prosecutor Amanda Cowan likened Nowak’s planning for the trip to the kind of preparations astronauts make as they ready for space. “She had a mission that she was very determined to carry out,” she said. Last summer, Nowak was literally on top of the world, one of the very few chosen to fly on the space shuttle to the international space station. She flew on Discovery in July as a mission specialist and operated one of the space station’s robotic arms, a job that requires intensive training. “It was such a high to see her get on the shuttle,” said Dennis Alloy of Vienna, a childhood friend who watched it lift off. “It’s such a shame.” Nowak performed “extremely well” on that first mission, said David Mould, a NASA spokesman. She was scheduled to be a capsule communications officer for the next shuttle flight in March, to serve as the conduit between Houston’s Mission Control and the astronauts. As of Tuesday, Nowak was off NASA’s prestigious “flight status” list and was on a 30-day leave. “We are deeply saddened by this tragic event,” said Michael L. Coats, director of Johnson Space Center. “The charges against Lisa Nowak are serious ones that must be decided by the judicial system.” Neither Nowak nor her attorney, Donald Lykkebak of Orlando, offered any alternate version of events. But in hearings Tuesday, Lykkebak took issue with police conclusions that Nowak intended to kill or kidnap Shipman. He said she was simply trying to talk to Shipman. “What we have here is a desperate woman who wants to have a conversation with another woman,” he said in the afternoon hearing. “She doesn’t shoot her. She doesn’t stab her. . . . I would submit to you that she wanted to talk.” Nowak’s boss, Chief Astronaut Steven W. Lindsey from Johnson Space Center, came to Orlando and appeared at both court hearings. “We’re here representing NASA, and our main concern is Lisa’s health and well-being and to make sure she’s safe and we get her through this and we get her back to a safe place with her family,” he said at the morning hearing. But by the end of the afternoon hearing, the judge had raised Nowak’s bond to $25,500, in addition to the condition that she be monitored via a Global Positioning System anklet, for which she will pay $15 a day. By evening, she had posted bond and was preparing to be fitted with the anklet. She was expected to return to Houston. Lisa Marie Caputo Nowak grew up in the Luxmanor neighborhood of Rockville, in a two-story red brick house on Tilden Lane. Her family in Rockville released a statement late Tuesday. It noted that Nowak and her husband separated a few weeks ago. “We love her very much, and right now, our primary focus is on her health and well-being,” the statement said. “Considering both her personal and professional life, these alleged events are completely out of character.” Nowak was co-valedictorian of Charles W. Woodward High School in Rockville and received a master’s degree in aeronautical engineering before becoming a full-fledged astronaut in 1998. She attended U.S. Naval Test Pilot School at the Patuxent River Naval Air Station in St. Mary’s County and flew as a test pilot in the mid-1990s. Oefelein attended the U.S. Navy Fighter Weapons School and was also at the test pilot school at Patuxent. In the fall, Nowak captivated audiences at Luxmanor Elementary School and Tilden Middle in Rockville and at the U.S. Naval Academy, all schools she once attended, and her sisters’ alma mater, Stone Ridge School of the Sacred Heart in Bethesda, with tales of space. It was a living lesson that hard work pays off. “All these little girls were lining up to sign autographs,” said Matthew Schatzle, a 1985 class officer, recounting the Naval Academy visit. “She represents us. She represents the Navy. She represents NASA. She represents her family. I’m sure she’s devastated.” De Vise reported from Washington. Staff writers Chris Jenkins, Marc Kaufman, Moira E. McLaughlin, Katherine Shaver and Steve Vogel and staff researcher Eddy Palanzo contributed to this report from Washington.
Scott Audette/Reuters Cmdr. William Oefelein and Capt. Lisa Nowak in winter training in Valcartier, Quebec, in January 2004.

NASA via Associated Press NASA’s portrait of Lisa Nowak February 7, 2007 From Spaceflight to Attempted Murder Charge Like most of today’s astronauts, Lisa Marie Nowak worked in relative obscurity — even last July, when she took the spaceflight that she had spent 10 years at NASA hoping for. She is famous now, the smiling image of her in astronaut gear a sharp contrast with her police mugshot, a woman with wild hair wearing an expression of personal devastation. She is charged with the attempted murder of a woman she believed to be her rival for the affections of a fellow astronaut. Police officials say she drove 900 miles to Florida from Texas, wearing a diaper so she would not have to stop for rest breaks. In Orlando, they say, she confronted her rival in a parking lot, attacking her with pepper spray. Captain Nowak was in disguise at the time, wearing a wig, the police said. She had with her a compressed air pistol, a steel mallet, a knife, pepper spray, four feet of rubber tubing, latex gloves and garbage bags. Those who know her say they are mystified. “I was in shock,” said Dennis Alloy, 43, of Tysons Corner, Va., a friend and high school classmate. “When I knew her, I couldn’t imagine an evil bone in her body.” Many inside and outside the space agency are wondering how the problems of Captain Nowak, who graduated from the Naval Academy in 1985 and served in the Navy before joining National Aeronautics and Space Administration, were not detected before this. Many are also wondering whether the “Right Stuff” image of astronauts has been tarnished, or if that image somehow confused technical excellence with emotional stability. “Like any other people, they’re human,” said George Abbey, director of the Johnson Space Center when Commander Nowak was selected for the astronaut corps, who recalled her as “an outstanding candidate.” Captain Nowak, 43, was arrested at 4 a.m. Monday at Orlando International Airport, the police said, after attacking the other woman, Capt. Colleen Shipman of the Air Force. According to the police report, by Detective William C. Becton, Captain Nowak said that she had not intended to harm Captain Shipman and that she believed that “this was the only time she was going to be able to speak” with her. The compressed air pistol she carried “was going to be used to entice Ms. Shipman to talk with her,” according to the report. Detective Becton wrote, “When I asked Mrs. Nowak if she thought the pepper spray was going to help her speak with Ms. Shipman, she replied, ‘That was stupid.’ ” According to the police report, Captain Nowak said she saw Captain Shipman, 30, as a rival for the affection of Cmdr. William A. Oefelein, a fellow astronaut. She told the police that she and Commander Oefelein, whose NASA nickname is Billy-O, had “more than a working relationship but less than a romantic relationship.” Commander Oefelein, 41, is divorced and has two children. Tuesday was a day of confusion and quickly shifting events. Captain Nowak, a married mother of three, was brought before a judge for arraignment at 8:30 a.m. Two of her fellow astronauts — the chief of NASA’s astronaut office, Col. Steven W. Lindsey of the Air Force, and Capt. Christopher J. Ferguson of the Navy — were there to offer support. The judge had agreed to release Captain Nowak on $15,000 bond on charges of kidnapping and battery, but the police added a charge of attempted murder, and bail was increased to $25,000. Captain Shipman is seeking a protective order against Captain Nowak, according to documents posted on the Web site of The Orlando Sentinel, which broke the story Monday night. In Orlando at the end of the day, Captain Nowak posted bail and later in the evening was fitted with an electronic ankle bracelet so her movements could be monitored after her return to Houston. “She’s is going home,” said her lawyer , Donald Lykkebak. Captain Nowak and her husband, Richard, a flight controller for the International Space Station, live with their children in a two-story brick-and-glass home in Houston. Few neighbors there wanted to talk about the case, but one, who asked that his name not be used, said the couple had an argument in November with raised voices and the sound of breaking china. No one was home on Tuesday. A statement from the family last night on the Sentinel Web site said that the Nowaks had been married for 19 years but that Captain Nowak and her husband “had separated a few weeks ago.” Earlier in the day, Michael Coats, the director of the Johnson Space Center, said in a statement: “We are deeply saddened by this tragic event. The charges against Lisa Nowak are serious ones that must be decided by the judicial system.” Mr. Coats said Captain Nowak was “officially on 30-day leave and has been removed from flight status and all mission-related activities.” How could a person involved in such a case rise within the space agency, which is famous for its psychological screening of astronaut candidates? Nick Kanas, a professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco, who has studied astronaut psychology, said that the screening occurs only at the very beginning of the process and that once an astronaut has gotten through the front door, the formal psychological evaluations give way to evaluation of job performance. Psychological counseling is available but not mandatory, he said. “We can screen out very serious stuff, but we can’t always predict the future,” Professor Kanas said, and “people change over time.” Captain Nowak first came to the space program in April 1996 and finally flew aboard the space shuttle in July 2006. During the 13-day flight of the shuttle Discovery, which was launched on July 4 of last year, she operated the robot arm during spacewalks with her crewmate Stephanie D. Wilson, earning them the shared nickname Robo Chicks. As an astronaut she performed roles including capcom, the astronaut who communicates with orbiting space station crews. Professor Kanas said that most astronauts went through the experience of finally reaching space and came out well but that “for some it’s very difficult to adjust” to seeing the abrupt end of something they have worked so hard to achieve. “These people are extremely well-suited, by personality and training, to deal with the stresses of being in space,” Professor Kanas said. But, he added, “that doesn’t mean that they’re not vulnerable to emotional problems, or problems in their relationships.” Today’s astronauts find themselves in a world much less glamorous than the original crews. While the Mercury Seven raced Corvettes, today’s family-oriented fliers are likelier to tool around in minivans. They spend much more time in suburbia than in orbit, and there are no more ticker-tape parades for the returning heroes. Some former officials of the space program said that romantic thoughts and even love triangles were not unknown to the program but that it was up to management to watch carefully and intervene. Mr. Abbey, the former Johnson Space Center director, said, “You’ve got some hard-charging people, and you need to manage them.” Problems like this “don’t happen overnight,” and so “you have to be sensitive to what your people are doing.” Now and then on his watch, he recalled, “I stepped in, and people weren’t happy about it,” he recalled, but it was important to tell them that “what you’re doing is not a personal thing for you — it’s affecting a lot of people around you, and affecting your performance.” Christopher Kraft, NASA’s original flight director, said he was surprised. If someone was slipping toward such trouble, Mr. Kraft said, “your fellow crew members would pick that up.” Captain Nowak’s use of a diaper on the long drive to Florida is no mystery to astronauts. Mike Mullane, a retired astronaut, said many astronauts wear a device — “we call them urine collection devices” — during launching, landing and spacewalks, “when you’re in a pressure suit and cannot get to a toilet.” Other mysteries in the case could be more persistent. Michael Stone, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University‘s College of Physicians and Surgeons, said he was struck by the thoroughness of Captain Nowak’s preparation, which he said was generally “a guy thing.” “It’s extraordinarily rare for a woman to do this type of a crime,” Professor Stone said. He said the more customary response was to try to kill the object of affection, as Jean Harris shot Herman Tarnower in 1980. “This is really close to unique in the annals of female crime,” he said. Ralph Blumenthal, Rachel Mosteller and Maureen Balleza contributed from Houston, Melody Simmons from Baltimore, Sonia Chopra from Orlando, and Stefano Coledan from Cape Canaveral. Copyright 2007 The New York Times Company |