The Eagle Has Landed (Part III)

Ed WHO?
I had known him for 31 years, but really knew very little about him. But there, on a sunny Sunday morning, May 31, 2009, I would have a unique opportunity.

Ed had arrived at the hospital early Saturday evening, following a visit he and Michelle’s Mom made to our house for dinner; a dinner of which Ed would not partake. Hw was already in too much pain by the time they arrived at our house. Michelle took him immediately into the front guest bedroom where he could lay down, hoping that he would soon feel better.

But nothing would assuage the knifing pain he felt in his lower back; every movement was agony for him. He’d never complained about anything quite this severe before. We all grew concerned. Finally Michelle insisted that her Dad be taken to Nearby Williamson Medical Center, where the doctors could perhaps get a gauge on what was going on and help relieve his pain.

As I described previously, that trip to the hospital was the beginning of the end for my Father In-Law. He would early the next morning be diagnosed with a cancer that was no longer operable, but which had spread like wildfire all over his body. He was given weeks to months to live, but death would instead come just a week later, on Sunday morning, June 7th.

However that morning as I came to spend what would be the most wonderful five hours we would ever have alone together, I would leave with answers to questions I’d had about him our relationship began.

I knew a little about his accomplishments, but there were a lot of holes in the scant few stories I’d ever heard him tell on his own behalf. We had a great time together, and he seemed genuinely happy to finally get through an entire story uninterrupted.

He also told me about how he felt toward me — at the beginning of our relationship and now. These are the things I’ll always treasure. This is how I will always define him as the man he truly was.

He was a significant part of the Apollo Space program. He was a pioneer in the testing of Atomic and Nuclear weapons. He was the man responsible for getting the first GPS satellite into orbit.

And though I knew a little about all of these things, I never knew what he really though of his accomplishments; I never knew how they impacted him as a man.

But I’d find out over the course of those five hours we had together.

Pop History
To channel Magnum P.I., “I know what you’re thinking…” Most of you who know me are already aware that I’m telling the truth here about my Father In-Law, but some of you may be thinking to yourself, “If this guy was so great, how come I’ve never heard of him? Why can’t I find him ANYWHERE — on Google, Wikipedia, or even the Rockwell/Boeing Corporate web site?”

It’s a valid question; the same one that could be applied to my own claim to having won the NJCAA (National Junior College Athletic Association) Men’s Gymnastics Still Rings title on back in 1976.

If you knew my real name and Googled it in relationship to the NJCAA gymnastics finals (held at The College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, IL that year), you wouldn’t find word one on that meet or anything else about me. It doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen — only that there’s no record of it on the World Wide Web.

Y’see — and I KNOW this is gonna come as big a shock to some people — not EVERYTHING is what I refer to as ‘Pop-History’ (i.e.: stuff you can find on Google and other search engines — the vast majority of which has found its way onto the Inter-Webz only in the past 15 years or so). The reason for that is simple. In order for something or someone to become immortalized on the Internet, somebody has to consider it important enough to write about first. And unless that writing takes the form of a blog, whitepaper, or online news/periodical story, I’m sorry to tellya, but you ain’t findin’ it, folks.

So how disappointed do you think I was a few years ago to discover that even on the NJCAA’s official website, not only is there nary a mention of Long Beach City College’s 1975 Team National Championship, but no mention of mine in ’76, nor any information at all on LBCC Men’s Gymnastics. I could only conclude the reason being that gymnastics is no longer listed as one of the sports the NJCAA sanctions for competition.

To be fair, however, I did see at least scant recognition of past gymnastics championships for existing NJCAA member schools, found in their various collegiate profiles on the website. However, LBCC itself no longer has a gymnastics program and is no longer is an official member of the NJCAA; hence, no online profile and no love for AJ and his teammates.

So you’re gonna have to just take my word for it — at least until the time someone makes the effort to go back and transcribe 33 year-old stories from Long Beach Press-Telegram sports sections.

Don’t hold your breath.

And while the fact that the information isn’t readily available does wonders for my online persona’s desire to remain anonymous, it DOES kinda shoot my real-time ego all-ta-hell.

But anytime you ever want to come over to the house and see my gold medal, I’ll be happy to show ya — although it may take me some time to unearth it; I’ve had my trophies packed away for years now.

The bottom line is, recorded human history didn’t start in the late 80s — or whenever it was that Al Gore invented the Internet. And even as it is now and has been since the dawn of the Internet age, history is still subjective to the point that humans decide what gets recorded and how that record is couched, slanted, and vetted.

There were thousands of people who played important roles in the success and safety of the Space Program; they are all to be honored and congratulated. I’m just a little biased because of what I know Ed Carpenter was responsible for — and the seriousness with which he took that responsibility.

On the other hand, I’m sure my Father In-Law, wasn’t bugged (assuming he ever even cared to check) by the fact that his name wasn’t plastered all over the history books and on the Internet. Although he was active online, he didn’t participate in any of the hundreds of Space Program-related message boards, crowing about his participation the historical events that surrounded his career — that’s not what he was about.

As a matter of fact, being low-key was the way that he and so many others of his generation preferred things. They didn’t need to see their names up in lights to know that what they did was important. The work was their reward.

And given that the men-behind-the-scenes have never really been granted much of a fair shake in the historical record (quick — tell me who was Christopher Columbus’ first mate on his 1492 voyage to discover the New World? There…told’ja!), unless someone who has a vested interest in honoring such a person steps forth and offers that information, the chances are we’ll never see it — that is, unless the person in question goes out and toots his or her own horn. But that’s just not the kind of man that Ed Carpenter was; not by a long shot.

However as lead Test Conductor for the second stage of the Saturn V rocket so crucial in transitioning the Apollo 11 spacecraft from mid-launch into orbit, he was indeed on that last line of defense for the lives of those three astronauts, as well as for the success of the mission. He was more than just a cog in the wheel, in my opinion.

No one who was ever involved with Ed Carpenter would say, “Ed Who?” It was more like, “Ed — well, who ELSE?”


Next: Enter the ‘Son In-Love’