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Well, I’m kinda late to this thread. I used to post here a lot more ‘til I got sick.

I met John Glenn and Annie when I was about five years old.

My dad had applied with the second group of astronauts. They thought he’d be a shoe-in since he was the test pilot on the F-4. He rang that bird out, wrote over a dozen technical papers and made hundreds of changes to that jet. He then introduced it to the Atlantic fleet, and shortly thereafter introduced it to the Pacific fleet. Having done that, he won the Bendix Trophy with Bobby Young sitting second chair in that same plane. I forget the year. ’62 maybe?

At that point he applied along with his best friend “Pete” Conrad to be astronauts. Pete was a year ahead of my dad at the Naval Experimental Test Pilot School in Patuxent River, Maryland, which is where I was born and where they met and became friends. It’s were he said he really learned to fly. Up ‘til then they were all just “yank and bankers.”

Problem is he was rejected because of a congenital lower back deformity, so he went to work on his M.S. in Operations Research at the Post Naval Graduate School in Monterrey, CA. We were living in San Diego at the time and my dad was stationed at Miramar.

In Monterrey, Pete urged my dad to reapply, and he did, so he was selected with the third group, because after NASA had some flight experience, they realized his back would never be a problem (he’s a short stocky man).

Anyway, we moved to Clear Lake City for a year while they built our house in Nassau Bay.

Our home was at 1307 Davon Lane and we were surrounded by other astronauts. James McDivitt, Michael Collins, Dave Scott, Buzz Aldrin, Charles Chaffee, Rusty Schwiekart, Gene Cernan, Al Bean, and later Joe Allen. They were all next door neighbors and I went to school with their kids. There were others, like the Bassets and the Freemans. Some of them died before they ever flew.

John and Annie and their boys, I believe lived in League City or Timber Cove … I don’t really remember. But my mom and dad would throw a party once a year and they would all descend on our house for a big soirée. The men and their wives, that is. I don’t remember meeting his kids. Anyway they were a bit older than me.

Having said all that, all of these men are/were a tough, proud, fearless breed … and consummate story tellers, as well, especially “Gordo” Cooper, aka “Hot Dog.”

They loved life to the full, they lived life to the full, and they took yuge “calculated” risks.

God love them all. Brave men whose fortunes came “at such a time as this.”

Godspeed, John Glenn. You will be remembered well.

As for me and my dad, Pop is alive and well. I developed very severe rheumatoid arthritis about seven years ago and retired just this year.

It’s one of the reasons I don’t post much anymore, as I can barely type. But I want you to know that I am a NosyLurker and read this board everyday, and I’m grateful for you all.

God Bless