On May the 25th of 1961, Christopher Straw went through Dolley Madison’s old doorway into the current headquarters of NASA that had the same pleasant mustiness that had entered his home in Fort Littleton when he was a boy. Good. Was that mustiness of Dolley Madison’s old home noticed just when entering or was it musty all the time? It was hard to tell until he could know it better.
What was even more important than the fragrance and feel of the place was that the bureaucracy there was so small that all its members could fit in Dolley Madison’s house. It proved to be the D.C. evidence that the smaller the government bureaucracy, the more it accomplishes. NASA was quick to be a tremendous success.
Christopher introduced himself to the woman at the most prominent desk of what had been said to have been Dolley Madison’s parlor but was now the reception room shared with three women and one man and four desks.
“Hi. I’m Christopher Straw from Western Electric in New York. I have an appointment at 2:30 here with Dr. Hagen. I just came in from New York on the Eastern Shuttle” he added as though such a heroic feat was worthy of having a White House banquet in his honor.
Too bad this woman was not about to at least pin a medal on his lapel. Instead she gave a smile and introduced herself as Dolly.
“Dolly?” Christopher asked.
“Yes, but not Dolley Madison! She spelled it different than me. I spell it right!” Obviously that was something she had said many times before in total disrespect of the original Dolley who, it seemed, was not considered to be as smart as the current Dolly.
The new Dolly nodded. “Before I get him, the Administrator was told about your appointment with Dr. Hagen and the Deputy Administrator would like to see you.”
“The Deputy Administrator of what?”
“Of NASA.”
“He does? He wants to see me? What for?”
“Well, I don’t know. That’s up to him. All I know is that he asked me to buzz him when you come in.”
“Are you talking about James Webb’s deputy?”
“Yes. Deputy Administrator Carl Sanford.” She pressed a button on her intercom and announced to whomever was listening to her that Christopher Straw had arrived.
“Yes, by all means,” the voice on the other end said, “Have him come in, if you would, Dolly.”
The Deputy Administrator’s office was comparatively small for a high-ranking officer of such an important Agency, but Dolley Madison apparently thought it was roomy enough. He stood up from behind his desk and there was a big smile on his face. He extended his hand and there was a firm handshake and Deputy Administrator Sanford gestured toward a chair to the side of his desk. “Sit down, Mr. Straw. You probably know why I asked to see you!”
Christopher looked mystified. “No, sir, I don’t.”
“You don’t?” And Carl Sanford sat back down behind his desk.
“No, sir. I came to see Dr. Hagen but I am so delighted to meet with you, sir. This is totally unexpected!”
“Well, I’m delighted to meet with you. Oh, I know that you didn’t ask for this meeting but—but I received a phone call telling me you would be in this building today!” And his smile became wider. “An old guy like me got a phone call about you coming here—a phone call from Savannah Lane!”
That startled Chris and there was no hiding his surprise. “You know Anna—Savannah Lane?”
“No. That’s the point. But we certainly knew who she was on the phone. You can imagine our surprise: every Saturday night Irene and I—my wife, Irene and I watch Gemstone on television faithfully—unless Administrator Webb or the President calls!” And he laughed. “Or unless other work here interferes. Since they put her on the show just a short while back—we have liked that girl! Great little actress! You know, the whole family on that series. She’s a real star. Great series. The real west.”
“No, sir, I didn’t know she was on it and I don’t know about the television series.”
Through the good luck of Chris, it was as though Carl Sanford didn’t even hear Christopher Straw. “So when she phoned the office for me I was delighted to take the call. She told me about you and your dedication to NASA’s space exploration efforts; that you work for our contractor, Western Electric. That’s good. Great organization. A couple days ago she called to tell me you would be here on the 25th to see Dr. Hagen on what she said you termed as a courtesy call before going around the world to all the planned tracking sites for when we make an orbital flight in our Mercury program. Good. That’s good. We will be glad to have you at our sites. She said you were coming to NASA today—the 25th—and I might want to meet you. I told Irene—my wife, Irene—about it and she was as thrilled as I was that I heard from Savanah Lane of all people!”
“I didn’t know she was on television.”
“Savannah Lane?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t know?”
“That’s right.”
“You know her, don’t you?”
“Oh, of course. But I didn’t know she was ever on television.”
“She never told you?”
“No. Never.”
“Don’t you watch ‘Gemstone’?”
“I don’t have a television set, sir.” Then he quickly added, “I did see, however, the launch of Alan Shepard earlier this month. That was spectacular. I saw it with her. We saw it on television.”
“Gus Grissom is next, you know. Another up and down test. But first, did you see the ceremony on the White House South Lawn for Commander Shepard and all the Mercury Seven Astronauts? May the Eighth.”
“I didn’t. No, sir. But I heard about it.”
“The President was great. You know he gave Shepard a medal—the Distinguished Service Medal and Mrs. Kennedy called out to the President and said to ‘put it on him!’ So the President did. He was laughing at himself for having just given it to Alan. It was such a great ceremony. The President said that everyone could tell who the Astronauts were compared to the D.C. folks who were standing with them because the Astronauts were the tan and healthy ones.” And Deputy Administrator Sanford laughed. “So did I!”
“You were there, Sir?”
“Yes. And tonight I’m going to be in the Capitol Building for President Kennedy’s State of the Union Address.”
“I thought he already did that—the State of the Union Address—just weeks ago—or am I wrong? Was that something else?”
“You’re right. He did. That was on January the 31st so not weeks ago but—what—but months ago. Anyway, he is going to give another one because he believes these times call for another one. I think it will be on television. If it is, you should watch it. It’s a big one. Does your hotel have a TV?”
“I think so. I’ll watch it.”
“If Savanah Lane has you right—you’ll like it. You’ll like it a lot. Now, tell me about your itinerary from here.”
“Tomorrow to Bermuda and then the entire around-the-world visits to all the planned tracking sites.”
“That’s valuable; a very valuable trip.”
“Yes, sir. It’s the second time I will have done it but the first trip was before a number of the sites had been completed.”
“Good. Every day those sites become more and more ready to be in shape for an orbiting Mercury Astronaut. Just last month we got the go-ahead from our friends in Great Britain to use Bermuda to track our Astronauts and whatever we want to track will look different from your past trip there. Bermuda will soon be our most important part of the network. It will pick up the track of a launch right after it blasts off from the Cape—from Cape Canaveral. What a path our network of trackers will administer around the world! Eighteen sites pending if you count—and you should count the two tracking ships in the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, and count the Cape and count Goddard right up the road in Maryland.” Deputy Administrator Sanford opened one of the right-hand drawers of his desk and pulled out a small white celluloid-covered cardboard card, and then pushed it across his desk to Chris. �
�This can help you. Keep this in your shirt-pocket on the trip. It tells you the time at every place on the Agency’s S.T.D.N. Just spin the dial on the bottom of it to the place—the tracking site that you want.”
“Thank you.” Chris played with it for a short moment. “That’s very good. That can be a big help. You said the S.T.D.N.?”
“In English it’s the Agency’s Spaceflight Tracking and Data Network. Sorry; I’m a bureaucrat now and everyone in government speaks bureaucratese using acronyms and initials. I’m just getting used to it. Tell me, where are you staying here in D.C.?”
“The South Gate.”
“What’s that?”
“The South Gate? The South Gate Motor Hotel. It’s in Arlington. South Glebe Road off the Shirley Highway. AAA, y’know.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. I’m not familiar with it. Just be sure they have a TV. You’ll like what the President has to say. Now, let me tell you what Savannah told me about you; that you have an ambition to get into space yourself; that you have the long-range ambition of going to the moon.”
“That’s right, sir. It’s a life ambition. Since I read Buck Rogers as a kid, I have had that—that ambition. It’s a dream. I admit it’s a dream. I don’t think I remember life without that dream.”
“Were you in the Armed Forces?”
“Yes, sir, with the U.S. Air Force.”
“Well, that’s good. That’s very good. A pilot?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, that’s not good. You know our seven Astronauts have all been test pilots.”
“I know, sir. I know about the qualifications and I know I’m not qualified.”
“You know how many test pilots we chose to get those seven?”
“No, sir.”
“Five Hundred and Eight. Then we gave them more intelligence tests than any Ivy League College would put them through. We whittled them down and down and got 32. Then we put those 32 through hell. Physical tests and psychological tests and one medical exam after another. If you thought basic training in the Air Force was tough, those weeks of your basic training were chicken-feed compared to what we did to those guys. We x-rayed every bone in their body more times than anyone ever took pictures of—of Savannah Lane’s face! We finally got the Mercury 7.”
“Sir, I’m a realist. I didn’t know the exact figures but I did know about the test pilot requirement and that the physical requirements alone were very rigid. That means there are a lot of ways I don’t qualify. I know that. But I’m hopeful that in time the requirements won’t be as rigid as they are today and I’ll qualify—as long as I’m not too old by then.”
“You’re right. We’re just at the opening stages here. We have to be cautious for all the possibilities we haven’t covered. You never know. No one can know when we are just starting to work on what Man has never done before. In time the requirements will go way down. It will be just like riding in the passenger section of Pan Am. Way down. They have to. Listen, when you joined the Air Force was it the U.S. Air Force or was it still part of the Army—the Army Air Corps?”
“The U.S. Air Force already, Sir,” speaking in his best bureaucratese he added, “New uniforms, Sir, including the Winter Blues.”
“Made a mess of the song, didn’t it?”
“What?”
“The Army Air Corps Song. That ending line: ‘Nothing will stop the ‘Army Air Corps’ last line of the song. And it rhymed with the line just before it which was, ‘We live in fame or go down in flame,’ then ‘Nothing will stop the Army Air Corps!’ The U. S. Air Force doesn’t have the same rhythm with that.”
Christopher nodded, not at all prepared for this trend of conversation. “Well,” he said after much silence, “they—they changed it.”
Deputy Administrator Sanford, realizing the man who knew Savannah Lane didn’t know much about the song, nodded too, and then he said, “Yes, they changed it. Army Air Corps to U.S. Air Force. And just think: this agency used to be called NACA: The National Committee for Aeronautics. It took the Soviets—Sputnik to change President Eisenhower’s priorities.” There was a silence. The Deputy Administrator broke it by saying, “Well, I guess Dr. Hagen is waiting for you. I’ll let him know that I kept you. Listen, just be sure that that hotel of yours has a television. I think the President’s speech will be on television. Or listen to it on radio. For sure it will be on radio. You’ll like the speech. You have a radio?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll like what he has to say. That’s a guarantee.”
Deputy Administrator Sanford had a point about Chris liking the speech. As a chief representative of NASA, he had been involved on a particular part of the President’s speech; the part that could change the exploration of space.
Sitting in the U.S. Capitol Building’s chamber of the House of Representatives facing President Kennedy were members of the House and Senate, Supreme Court Justices, Cabinet officers, members of the military’s Chiefs of Staff, foreign ambassadors to the United States, members of the press, and guests.
There were two men sitting behind the President with a full view of the audience but the two could only see the back of the President as he gave his speech standing at the chamber’s podium. The two were Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson and Speaker of the House Sam Rayburn seated at the permanently elevated Speaker’s desk.
Combined with listeners throughout the nation, a more prestigious gathering was difficult to imagine hearing the words, “The Constitution imposes upon me the obligation to, from time to time, give to the Congress information on the state of the union. While this has traditionally been interpreted as an annual affair, this tradition has been broken in extraordinary times. These are extraordinary times.” The President went on to propose additional spending for a stronger defense beyond what he had proposed in his original State of the Union Address. And he added much more than an afterthought: “I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to earth.”
Even though it had only been twenty days since Commander Alan Shepard went up and down in a sub-orbital flight that lasted fifteen minutes from lift-off to splash-down, while the Soviet Union’s Yuri Gagarin had already made an orbital flight, Shepherd’s flight moved the President of the United States to the extent of committing this nation’s effort in making the dream of thousands of years come true.
Christopher Straw heard the President’s speech on the radio of the South Gate Motor Inn. He didn’t bother to wipe the tears from his eyes because they were tears of exaltation that felt good. After all, he just heard the words he thought he might never hear from anyone in authority, and certainly not from the President of the United States.
Then, from his room Chris placed a person-to-person long-distance phone call to Anna. He wanted to say so many things to her. But the operator kept holding. After a couple long minutes he was told there was no answer. Chris asked the operator to keep trying and call him back when there was an answer.
Now what? That’s when he had an impulse to phone his long-ago teacher Mrs. Zambroski although he didn’t know how to get her phone number. All he wanted to do was repeat to her what President Kennedy said this night and then add one word of his own to Mrs. Zambroski: “Seeeeee?!”
He gave up on calling Mrs. Zambroski before even attempting to locate her, but he tried the phone number of Anna Lane four more times before quitting his series of asking one long- distance operator after another to try her number. He wanted to talk to Anna about the meeting with Deputy Administrator Sanford and what Sanford told him about her and to ask why she didn’t tell him she was an actress, and he wanted to compliment her obvious success and to thank her for calling a top executive of NASA. And he was more than impatient to talk to her about President Kennedy’s space-age commitment for a manned moon flight and Christopher wanted to say another goodbye before starting his trip the next morning in his second world tour of the Spaceflight Trac
king and Data Network sites for Project Mercury. There was so much to say and ask Anna, but the operators insisted there was no answer.
It never occurred to Christopher Straw that Anna Lane could be having drinks at Fifth Avenue’s Top of the Sixes. And even if he had imagined such a thing he would not have had a remote thought that she would be there, or anywhere, with Raj Bhavnani.
THEME THIRTEEN
THE FORTY-SECOND FLOOR
ONLY RAJ BHAVNANI COULD BE TALKING when he said: “In India we would call this place Salyaloka! In Thailand it is Nirvana! It is Cielo in Italy! Ahhh, and here in New York it is Heaven! It is the ultimate reach of all Man’s hopes no matter if the Man is Hindu or Buddhist or Jain, Jew, or Christian! This, my dear Savannah, is Paradise!”
“Mister Bhavnani, you are the most enthusiastic- about-everything than any person I have ever met. This is a restaurant with a bar. Can’t that be enough?”
“You don’t like the Top of the Sixes? You don’t like being 41 floors above the crowded streets?”
“I do. It’s nice. But it isn’t really all of those things you just said. Now—is it?”
“Then what do you think this magnificent place is?”
“It is between 52nd and 53rd on Fifth Avenue.”
“You do not know that between 52nd and 53rd is Heaven Street?”
“My map somehow missed that street, Mister Bhavnani. But it is nice.”
Raj Bhavnani was leaning toward capitulation. “Yes. You are right. It’s very nice.” But he didn’t carry a white flag too long. “Do you know why it is very nice?”
“No.”
“Because if we danced we would step on the world! Millions of people beneath our feet! Yes, then as long as you recognize that, it is nice. It is, in fact, so nice that it is a vision of what Man has built as seen from the eyes of Gods. The Top of the Sixes is—to a degree of course”—and he whispered the remainder of his new thought—“it is the illustrated edition of what life should be for all peoples!”
Raising the Baton Page 11