Fancy Pants

Well, I just shook hands and chatted with a three-star general—Tom Stafford. He flew two Apollo missions and two Gemini missions. Clay Boyce introduced me as the author who is writing his biography. He was a very pleasant man and soft spoken. Prior to flying the space missions (and possibly afterwards, I don’t know) he was a fighter pilot, then a test pilot. I asked him, “Which was the scariest, the test-pilot?”

This made him smile. Such silly questions. “They both were both interesting. As a test pilot, we flew the plane to assess its capabilities.”

I guess it’s less scary if no one is shooting at you.

Clay explained, “The first flight was the most dangerous… that was to assess whether or not it could safely fly.”

“The test pilot came next. We determined what it was capable of,” General Stafford added.

I took a seat on Clay’s armrest of his easy chair and listened as they chatted about ablative engines and thrust chambers. I kept a semi-fascinated expression pasted to my face, as I wondered what the heck they were talking about. I’ve become used to these over-my-head conversations over the last two years of writing about Clay, but usually I interrupt for clarification. His history is very interesting to me because I get to document his entire life. As I excused myself I heard the general ask Clay what he thought that bubble was that had formed on the nozzle of the Soyuz engine. Clay eagerly jumped into the analytical discussion.

The simple task of moving from one hotel to another (downtown) turned into a fiasco of driving in circles. Apparently they’ve changed the freeway system and how the ramps are configured. I lost track of how many times Clay said, “This doesn’t look anything like it used to!” We finally managed to get on a surface street. I’m sorry if you are one of the people who designed the highway system in Houston, but they’re horrible.

But it was all better when we arrived at the Hyatt Regency downtown. That’s an impressive hotel. Giant. The elevators have glass windows, so going to the 28^th floor was like being on an amusement park ride. Clay got an upgrade to a fancy suite almost as big as my house.

Joe and I went for a walk in the subterranean passageways winding through the downtown area. That was super cool. They even have stores down there and a food court. The only glitch in our transition to downtown is Clay left his iphone at the last hotel.

At 5:30 Joe and I descended to the lobby. We’d transformed ourselves from our usual scruffy look to fancy-pants. Joe looked stunning in his tux and I felt quite elegant in my purple velvet dress. Clay arrived fashionably late in his tux and we checked into the 33^rd annual RNASA Gala. This is the who’s-who in the space industry.

I couldn’t possibly remember all the astronauts, generals, commanders, engineers, inventors, and company presidents I saw or met… suffice it to say it was a lot.

The memorable ones were, Richard Korhs, Tom Stafford, Eileen Collins (my fav), and of course William Shatner. For me, the best part was the awards given to the “Early Career” people in their twenties. They’re so young and so brilliant. It’s hard to believe the next astronauts who will go to Mars are currently even younger (9-17 years old now).

We followed the crowd (over 500 people) down to the lobby to continue the party. That’s when Joe lost his credit card. I found it on the floor after half an hour of panic. I crawled into bed around midnight like an exhausted toddler. Today we still couldn’t locate Clay’s phone and he was struggling to keep a positive attitude… so I started teasing him about it… I’ve read somewhere that helps. My punishment for harassing an octogenarian was to forget my fanny pack and my passport at security-checkpoint. I recovered it, thank goodness. 

We lounged around the AA Admirals Club for several hours and headed over to our gate. That’s when I can happily say we concluded our adventure on a happy note. The first hotel called me to tell me they found Clay’s phone.

Now all we have to do is land in Sacramento and get our limousine ride home. What a memorable trip! Something to remember forever. I only wish my dad was alive, so I could tell him all about it!

The Good Old Days

I can’t believe it’s been two days here. Wednesday was nonstop activity for us, but it was mostly sightseeing Clay’s old haunts. It felt like I was with my dad in Eureka being shown every house he lived in. 

Clay took us by his business townhouse where he ran Aerojet business. It was on Clear Lake with a little slip of water winding through the complex. He pointed out the party room and snickered as he told me it was pretty crazy there. I’ve heard that comment quite a few times now. He hasn’t slowed down much.

We cruised through the neighborhood he and Carol lived in. He pointed out a pretty little brick house.

A couple of streets over he pointed a boney finger out the window and said, “That’s where Armstrong lived.” It’s interesting that this was a community of engineers, scientists, and fighter pilots all in their twenties.

We drove over to the Kemah feeding out of Clear Lake into the Galveston and hooked a left to go to the Kemah Boardwalk. We ate lunch at The Flying Dutchman and walked the boardwalk with its rollercoaster and miniature train. Back into the SUV for more touring of old haunts. As we drove through one area, Clay told us about Maribelle’s. Apparently Maribelle’s was the place to go way back in the sixties. I think it got wiped out by a hurricane. She moved to a house nearby and converted part of it into a bar. Eventually that either burned down or was swept away. Clay showed us the old spot and lamented that he couldn’t show us this iconic hub of NASA activity.

For dinner we drove an hour to the other side of town, Sugarland. Floyd and Carolyn Bennett had invited us to dinner. Floyd was an engineer. His claim to fame was drawing a map of the expected terrain on the window of the Lunar Lander. They named one of the Moon mountains after him. They live at an assisted living facility with amazingly elegant grounds. Mr. and Mrs. Bennett were both gracious and elegant. Though they are considerably younger than Clay, he looked like a kid in comparison. We finally peeled away and drove home in an incoming squall. As soon as we got back to the hotel, wet and tired, Clay asked, “Who’s up for a nightcap?”

Good grief! Does this guy ever stop? So we had our usual, a scotch and water for Clay, a glass of wine for me, and a beer for Joe (or two, maybe). We got to bed late as usual.

Thursday morning was the big day. We started with breakfast. As I walked by a man having his breakfast, he stopped me and asked if Clay was an astronaut. I explained he was the Chief engineer over the Service Propulsion Main Engine. He introduced himself as David Bennett, photographer for the Washington Post and asked if he could photograph Clay. It turns out he’s a bit of a Space science nerd, much to Clay’s delight. Forty-five minutes later he shook hands and left with a promise that if a writer wanted to do a story on Clay, we’d be notified.

Clay had purchased tickets for the Space Center Houston. He’d also gotten a hold of his old chemical engineer friend, Norman Chaffe, to give us a private tour of the Saturn (which is what the Apollo mission was flown on). This thing is enormous. It took me two minutes to walk its length. It would’ve been Apollo 18, but Nixon pulled the financial plug. 

It was given to the Smithsonian, and forgotten. This spacecraft laid out on the lawn for decades, rotting. Finally Norman and a few others applied enough heat to get the Smithsonian to build a protective building around it and clean it. It sits exactly where it was abandoned. Norman’s tour was incredibly detailed, and extra special because he could point to various parts of the rocket and say, “I designed those small engines to make adjustments to its flight. And I was responsible for the design of the pyrotechnics that separated the stages from each other.”

Then Clay said, “That’s where my SPS engine would have sat.” He pointed up into the vacancy behind the command module. We had an audience by the time we were done.

The SPS is not on display at the museum, but the Lunar Lander was. Norm told us about the intensity of the Apollo 13 explosion and how he’d been recalled into the command center. When he came in they were in the middle of a discussion about shutting off the system he’d designed to keep the fuel warm enough to function on restart for re-entry. “I waved my arms and said no, you can’t do that. The fuel will freeze. They said they had to or the astronauts would come back as popsicles. 

So we had them rotate the command module to warm the little fuel pipes in the sun until they got back. The fuel had to be above a certain temperature and it was… by only a couple of degrees. When they fired up the engine, I thought I was going to wet my pants,” he laughed. (I have to point out that these conversations are from my memory. I’m sure I’ve made some technical error in my wording. But it’s how I remember it from yesterday).

Clay wanted us to go on the Command Center tour, so off we went. When we all shuffled into the hallowed grounds of the command center viewing room, Clay sat in the middle and said, “This is where I sat when I came in here. Armstrong sat here one time,” he commented patting the seat next to him.

It was late and we were tired and starving by the time we left, but the hotel bartender had told us that Maribelle’s had been opened yet again. Boy was Clay excited… I didn’t know what to expect, but after the Cockeyed Seagull experience I was prepared. He wanted to go there before dinner. Wow, what a dive! It is a carefully replicated dump. The smoke filled room was slightly better than the Seagull because they had modern ventilation and high ceilings.

Otherwise it was dark, noisy and dingy. I asked for a glass of wine and she presented a choice between two miniature bottles of Sutter Home wines. I chose the merlot and suffered through it. Joe asked for a dark beer. Nope. He asked for a Bud Light. They were out. He drank a Miller Light. We didn’t stay long, but it was all part of the experience. I begged to go back to Tommy’s for a nice meal and a real glass of wine. When we got back, Clay asked if we wanted a nightcap… No way! I was done. The ninety-year-old could keep the bar open by himself :)

Clay was thrilled to find out that an old acquaintance of his was staying at our hotel, Tom Stafford. He told me that Tom usually eats breakfast around 8:00 or so.

The Cockeyed Seagull

It’s definitely fun to travel with such a seasoned traveler. Clay is relaxed and low-maintenance… a definite plus in my books. The flights were uneventful, other than the bizarre lack of a window next to our “window seat” on our second flight. Even the flight attendant thought it was comical and decided she was going to draw a scenery and tape it to the wall. It surprised me how much I missed having that window, especially when we landed!

We got our rental car and headed out and around Houston on the toll road G8. Travel advice—take this route. We bypassed the downtown traffic. 

Down in the NASA area, Clay guided us to his favorite dive bar, The Cockeyed Seagull. I had my first shock of the trip when we stepped through those hallowed doors… people smoke indoors in Texas! I couldn’t believe it. Clay laughed at my expression. He commented with a chuckle, “I don’t think the Il Forno Classico ladies would like this place.” 

I’m pretty sure he’s right. He laughed even harder when I saw the bill and my jaw dropped. Two cocktails, two beers and a glass of merlot was only twelve bucks! We’re definitely not in California anymore.

Then we checked into our hotel on Clear Lake. Not sure where the name Clear Lake came from. There’s nothing remotely clear about this lake. It’s a lovely shade of brown. We got into our rooms and ten minutes later we were heading back out. Man, I love traveling with people who can be ready that fast. That’s the upside of dressing nice for the air travel, you’re ready to go out without an ordeal. 

Clay treated us to another of his favorite places, an upscale restaurant called Tommy’s Oyster Bar. I had a glass of wine that cost as much as our entire bill at the Cockeyed Seagull (love that name). The waitress turned out to be an incredibly smart girl with a love of science and space travel. Clay’s faced glowed with joy at her enthusiasm for his favorite subject.

We went back to our hotel and guess what? Clay and Joe wanted another cocktail. Seriously? Next thing I know I’m following them to the hotel lounge. I couldn’t bring myself to order yet another glass of wine, so I got a half glass. I’m going to have a liver problem by the time I leave this town. Needless to say, I conked out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

This morning finds me sitting on the fourteenth floor in the breakfast lounge looking out over Clear Lake, which is not clear. I sat out on the balcony to write because I love the humidity, but my laptop didn’t like the sprinkles of rain. I’m back inside and just shut my WiFi off because my computer went bonkers. This will definitely slow down the blogging process!

Space Adventure

This adventure began early this morning. We were picked up by a beautiful compact limousine and whisked off to go get Clay Boyce. You may have heard me talk about my newest endeavor… writing a biography? Well Clay Boyce is the subject of that biography. We met him a couple of years ago and were immediately charmed by this guy. It didn’t take me more than ten minutes to realize his story needed to be told. Trust me, as a rocket scientist from the Apollo era, there’s a lot of stories.

We agreed to meet every Tuesday to put his incredible life in writing. I chose to organize the biography in a storytelling format. The reader will join us at the kitchen table and experience his journey in his own words and my response in mine. We’re going on two years now, and he’s going on ninety. Recently he admitted that his Houston days were probably coming to an end. He was debating whether or not he should go to the RNASA black-tie gala for the last time. With the recent loss of his best friend and wife, he would have to go alone. Naturally, being little Miss Adventure herself, I volunteered to go with him. Joe volunteered to carry the bags.

So here we are on a working vacation. The culmination of all the stories Clay’s tried to explain to me about what it was like to be Aerojet’s Chief Engineer on the Apollo Program. We will tour the Space Center, go to old haunts, have dinner with old friends, and party with astronauts (they won’t notice us, but we’ll be there!).

For now we’re enjoying the experience of traveling on Clay’s coat-tails. He uses a wheelchair at the airport, so Joe and I follow him as he’s taken to the front of every line. 

Because he’s a very, very frequent flyer, he gets all the special treatment like pre-boarding and extended leg room… sweet! We also get free booze during the flight, which doesn’t do us any good on a morning flight, but it’s a nice thought.

So, this blog series is a space adventure and it’s mostly about Clay :)