Marc Sklar is the Director of Communications at the museum. Since 2018, he’s led a team that handles everything from media and public relations to web, social media, and even the museum’s 50-page quarterly magazine.
When you think of the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, you might picture iconic aircraft, moon landings, and futuristic space galleries. But behind all of that is a team making sure the stories behind those artifacts are told — and told in a way that inspires people. Marc Sklar is the Director of Communications at the museum. Since 2018, he’s led a team that handles everything from media and public relations to web, social media, and even the museum’s 50-page quarterly magazine. I had the opportunity to speak with him about how the museum is evolving, its inspiration for the next generation, and how his journey led him to one of the most influential aerospace institutions in the world.
That’s the core of the museum’s mission — and it’s something Sklar brings up often. To him, inspiring future scientists and engineers means more than just putting cool stuff on display. It’s about making sure people see themselves in those stories. Whether it’s Apollo or drones or future Mars missions, the museum wants visitors to realize that the people behind aerospace achievements are relatable — and that if space excites you, there’s a place for you in it. He pointed out that 400,000 people helped make Apollo happen, including seamstresses who hand-stitched spacesuits. That kind of behind-the-scenes storytelling is powerful.
When I brought up the famous JFK story — the one where Kennedy visits the Houston Space Center and asks a janitor what he does, and the janitor replies, “I’m helping put a man on the moon” — Sklar admitted he’s a bit skeptical about whether that moment happened. But he shared a story of his own that captures a similar spirit. In his office, he keeps a small piece of hardware called a reefing cutter. It was used during Apollo to cut the line for the drogue parachute as the command module descended back to Earth. The job was simple — just cut a cord — but the mechanism behind it was surprisingly complex. To Sklar, it’s a perfect example of how even the smallest components in aerospace require serious engineering. No part is too small to matter — and that’s what makes the whole system work.
When I asked about projects that impacted students, Sklar referenced the Udvar-Hazy Center in Virginia. It’s one of the only places in the world where real planes land and roll right into a museum. During camps and field trips, students can watch aircraft come in, launch weather balloons, and even visit a real control tower. It’s that kind of experience — the kind where you’re standing right next to the tech instead of just reading about it — that can spark curiosity.
With space tourism, private companies like SpaceX and Blue Origin, and commercial stations becoming a reality, I asked him how aviation museums fit into this new world. He said they’re still figuring that out — and that’s what’s exciting. On July 28, five new galleries will open in the renovated DC museum, including one called Futures in Space. It’s designed to keep evolving with the industry and features real hardware like a SpaceX grid fin and a mockup of a Blue Origin capsule. But it also includes more imaginative elements, like an R2-D2 built by MythBusters’ Adam Savage. It’s not just about the tech — it’s about how we imagine the future and what stories we tell about it.
One part of the museum, Sklar thinks people miss, is the “Early Flight” section — the era between the Wright brothers and World War I. That period saw incredible innovation, but most visitors breeze past it. One aircraft he mentioned is the Wright Military Flyer, the first plane ever specifically built for the military. Sklar loves that era for its raw experimentation — people were still figuring out what was possible.
Nearby is one of the museum’s smallest but most powerful artifacts: a sliver of wood and fabric from the original Wright Flyer. It’s tiny — easy to miss — but Neil Armstrong took it to the Moon in his pocket. That flight happened just 60 years after the Wrights first got off the ground. Think about that: from bicycle-powered flight to walking on the Moon in a single lifetime. We’re now nearly that same distance from Apollo, but progress hasn’t quite kept the same pace.
I asked Sklar what he thought about that — why we haven’t seen the same kind of rapid advancement. He said it’s not that we haven’t done great things, but that the level of national focus and investment has changed. In the 1960s, the Moon was a goal that pulled everyone together. Today, we still say Mars is 10 years away — just like we did back then. Commercial spaceflight is growing, and NASA’s partnership with private companies is promising. But getting to Mars or beyond still comes down to the same thing: where we decide to put our resources.
Sklar’s path to the museum wasn’t traditional. He studied economics and started out in journalism — working for CNN for ten years, including as a White House producer during the Clinton years. Eventually, he moved into communications at Boeing, where he worked on everything from helicopters to advanced space programs. That experience gave him a unique skill: translating complex engineering stories into messages the public can connect with.
He said that understanding the technical side of aerospace helps him tell stories in ways that make students want to learn more. And that matters — because the museum isn’t just about old planes and rockets. It also has a full research division: the Center for Earth and Planetary Studies. The scientists there are writing papers on Martian geology and contributing to real NASA missions, and the museum helps bring that research to the public.
I asked Sklar what he’d add to the museum if money weren’t an issue. His answer was simple: Ingenuity, the Mars helicopter. Right now, they have a test article, but if they could get the real one and place it next to the Wright Flyer — the first aircraft to fly on Earth, beside the first to fly on another planet — that would tell an unforgettable story.
Sklar hopes the museum’s legacy stays rooted in its mission: to commemorate, educate, and inspire. That includes not just preserving the physical artifacts, but also expanding access to the collections digitally, with 3D models, online exhibits, and more. The goal is to keep the museum relevant, accessible, and exciting for generations to come.
One of my favorite things Sklar shared was about Steven Udvar-Hazy — the man whose name is on the Virginia center. He grew up in Hungary, building model airplanes out of whatever materials he could find. Today, those same handmade models sit in the entrance of a museum that houses one of the largest aircraft collections in the world. It’s a full-circle moment that quietly reminds us how far passion, curiosity, and perseverance can take someone.