The Eagle Has Landed (Part I)

♫ What a drag it is getting old... ♪
I apologize in advance if at first blush I appear a little narcissistic here, but that’s really not what I’m going to say is about. It’s not about me; it’s about reality; a reality we all avoid but will never escape, no matter how far into the sand of our youthful lives we bury our heads.

Getting old really does suck — especially when you don't feel or ‘think’ old. But none of that matters when you're knockin’ on the door of 53 trips around the sun (like yours truly and his wonderful spouse); it may be nice to hear that you’re regarded by your co-workers as “the youngest old guy” they’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean beans where the rubber meets the road; it doesn’t change the one specific reality, that no matter how young you think or feel, 53 ain't young, baby. And when you're 53, that means your parents are probably 25 or so years older than that, which means that they're in a place in their lives where time is the most precious — and fleeting.

It means that they're in a place where they can leave you — for good.

And no matter how prepared you think you are; no matter how tough you think you might be — and especially in my case — no matter how emotionally indemnified from loss you assume your heart is (because after all, they're not your parents), I’m here to tell you that you are NEVER ready.

You can NEVER really handle it ‘like a man.’

You can NEVER stiffen your gut enough to withstand the punch that knocks the wind out of your sails.

You can NEVER know how horrible and helpless it feels to realize a relationship you've had with someone your entire adult life is coming to an abrupt and very final end, until it’s there, staring you in the face.

That’s how my week was.

Interview with an Unsung Hero
The only bright spot in my week from Hell happened seven days before my Father In-Law died, the morning following his first night in the hospital. It wasn’t exactly a day filled with good news. We had already learned that Dad C. was losing his race with cancer.

But while Michelle and her Mom were out Sunday morning picking up some things that Mom would need while spending extended time in the hospital with her husband, I had five hours alone with my the man — more concentrated time than we’d probably ever spent alone together in the 30-plus years I’d known him.

I realized this was an opportunity I’d likely never have again.

Y’see, I had questions; questions about Ed Carpenter. I wanted to know more about his career — a subject that I could have easily spent hours talking with him about every single day, but which it seemed we’d actually only spent minutes over the years discussing.

My Father In-Law was a significant cog in the wheel of U.S. History, but he’d never tell you that. “Just doing my job,” he’d say. I never once remember hearing him brag or boast about the work he did in the Space Program, or the fact that the GPS navigation units that are a now such a common part of our lives exist in significant part due to his efforts.

Nope, he wasn’t anything special.

The HELL he wasn’t!

I was a Space Program nut growing up in the 60s. The Apollo Program’s execution of President John F. Kennedy’s mandate to put a man on the moon before 1970 was the most compelling event of my early lifetime.

When Michelle and I got married I was totally stoked to learn of the fact that my new Father In-Law’s career was so closely tied to one of my all-time childhood passions. Nonetheless it was sometimes difficult (if not impossible) to get Ed to talk at length about his career.

In addition to his natural aww, shucks humility was the fact that most of the of the projects he worked on involved the military, and as such, many were classified. In keeping with his sense of duty he held the oath of secrecy he took on behalf of those projects in the very highest regard. He was truly a man of honor and integrity, and he flat-out didn’t give away secrets he was sworn to protect — even years after the fact.

But as much as I wanted to know more about the things he’d worked on in our early years together, you didn’t want to press the issue with this guy. He was the epitome of the “I could tell what I do, but then I’d have to kill ya” sort. And he said it with that glint in his eye that made you think, “yeah, he’s yankin’ my cord, but then again…maybe not…” And given that attitude — particularly back then — I wasn’t about to give him any push-back.

Smarter than the Av-R-age Bear
When I first met him, Ed Carpenter was a bear; an intimidating, burly, booming-baritone-voiced, walking figure of authority. He was also the father of the woman I wanted to marry. And though he granted my request for Michelle’s hand, throughout the first few years of our marriage, we generally spent very little time together. Frankly, I was terrified of the guy.

He was an important man with an important career in the Space Industry; an engineer for Rockwell International, arguably the leading technology contractor in the history of the Space Program, but particularly so throughout the 60s and 70’s. Rockwell was the primary manufacturer of the ginormous Saturn V rocket that powered all of the Apollo Program missions to the moon — including the all-important second stage (S-II), on which Ed worked.

He was the lead Test Conductor for the Saturn V’s S-II; which you’ve no doubt seen a million times over the years depicted in the NASA mission video as seen below. The S-II was responsible for a pivotal part of the rocket’s flight, allowing the space craft to climb to an altitude of 115 miles into the atmosphere, before the single S-IV engine cut in to actually break the Earth’s gravitational pull and power it into an orbital trajectory.

This was his Baby


Above is the famous mission video taken on unmanned Apollo test flights 4 and 6. The ‘Apollo—Saturn V S-II Interstage Staging’ and ‘Apollo—Saturn V S-IV-B Staging’ depict the portions of rocket that my FIL was responsible for the success of (from either side). It was YEARS after the fact that I knew this famous piece of filmography was of his work. He just NEVER talked about it, voluntarily. Can ya believe THAT?



And in this clip, the previous ‘Apollo—Saturn V S-IV-B Staging’ scene is shown in a rare and extended real-time version (the original video was filmed in slow motion), showing the S-II’s roll and descent toward the Earth.

And just in case you cant view the video, below is the action sequence referred to previously as screen capture images, as the Saturn V’s S-II Interstage Ring separates and tumbles back to the Earth. This famous scene was used in the Star Trek Enterprise TeeVee series’ opening credits. It was also used in an episode of the Star Trek original series. If Ed Carpenter had residual rights on that piece of film, he’d have died a very wealthy man.







This was the part of Ed’s career that he was most proud of — and with good reason. And despite the fact that he still didn’t care to talk about it all that much, it was the one thing he would talk about, if pressed, simply because so much of the Space Program is now in the public record, making it pretty much all fair game.

However, there were bookends to his Apollo career about which he wasn’t forthcoming at all. These were the stories I really wanted to hear; the things that you can’t learn much about no matter how much you Google or scour Wikipedia.

I didn’t get much on those subjects during our five-hour conversation one week before he died, but what I did get answered a lifetime of questions for me.


Next: I Plead, ‘No Contest’