8 Announcing the Mercury astronauts It was Wednesday, 8 April1959, a few hours before a gala NASA press conference was due in Washington, D.C., as test pilot Captain Hal Ekeren took to the skies for what would prove to be the final time. The press was attending the conference in excited droves, as NASA was about to announce the names of the seven Mercury astronauts, and introduce them to the public. TilE UNFORGIVING SKY Although somewhat disappointed that he had missed out on being selected, Mercury candidate Hal Ekeren was once again at home in the skies over Nevada. Attached to the Air Force Flight Test Center at Edwards AFB's Air Research and Development Command, he had been test-flying several variants of the 100-seriesjet aircraft while waiting to hear from NASA. He had not done his case any good by admitting during the stress-testing phase that he had some reservations about giving up test flying to become an astronaut. On that fateful day Captain Ekeren was on temporary assignment at Nellis AFB, Nevada, conducting short test flights in preparation for the much-anticipated World Congress of Flight that was planned for the week 12-19 April. During his career he had logged 2,780 hours in the air. At 1125 local time, he took off from Nellis in a Convair JF-106A-50 Delta Dart, serial number 57-229A, ahead of a second F-106A piloted by Captain William E. Powers. Both aircraft were assigned to the Joint Test Flight at Edwards AFB. They were to practice a low-altitude supersonic fly-by at Nellis' Gunnery Range No.1, situated four miles north of Nevada's Indian Springs AFB. The weather was clear, with twenty-five miles visibility. Having climbed to 9,000 feet, both aircraft began a planned shallow dive toward Indian Springs, with Powers flying at Mach 0.96 about a mile astern of Ekeren. As they approached Indian Springs, Ekeren called Powers and said that his oil pressure warning light had illuminated; he was going to gain altitude and make an emergency landing at Indian Springs. Powers and ground observers reported grey smoke or vapour streaming from the tailpipe of the F -106 as Ekeren made several small turns to begin to line up for his approach. Powers then observed two small C. Burgess, Selecting the Mercury Seven: The Search for America’s First Astronauts, 273 Springer Praxis Books 2, DOI 10.1007/978-1-4419-8405-0_8, © Springer Science+Business Media, LLC 2011 274 Announcing the Mercury astronauts Capt. Halvor Ekeren, Jr., USAF. (Photo courtesy of David Ekeren) explosions inside the tailpipe, which instantly began to issue thick, black smoke. A few moments later Ekeren ejected at an altitude of around 6,000 feet, just before a large explosion blew off the aircraft's nose cone and tore the fuselage in half at the turbine section. As Captain Powers continued to observe Ekeren's descent, he could see that the man was struggling to free his parachute, which was entangled with the ejection seat. When the chute finally came free, instead of deploying the canopy it streamed behind the plunging pilot. A crash crew with a doctor immediately set off from Indian Springs AFB, but owing to the rough terrain it was fully half an hour before they reached the downed pilot. A helicopter from Nellis AFB arrived to evacuate him. He was rushed to the base's hospital, but died two hours later. 1 At the same time, seven apprehensive pilots were attending a briefing at Langley Field, Virginia, in preparation for an historic NASA press conference in the nation's capital the following afternoon. A CROWDED PRESS CONFERENCE A yellow, three-storey house still occupies the northeast corner of Lafayette Square, just across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House in Washington, D.C., and a weathered plaque informs admirers that this was once the post-presidency home of James and Dolley Madison. However the former president was only an occasional visitor to the stately home. Following his death in 1836 the Dolley Madison house became known as the epicentre of social life in the city, well known for extravagant parties hosted by the former First Lady and attended, until her death in 1849, by the capital's rich and famous. A crowded press conference 275 The Dolley Madison House on Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C. (Photo: NASA) In 1958, the newly formed NASA acquired the refurbished and expanded Dolley Madison House to serve as its temporary headquarters until a more suitable facility could be found elsewhere in the city. At 2:00p.m. on 9 April1959, press reporters and news crews were crammed into a converted ballroom in the expanded south side of the building, waiting expectantly 276 Announcing the Mercury astronauts for an important announcement from the nation's space agency. Full to bursting, the room was abuzz with noise and chatter when, right on cue, the curtains at one end of the room were whisked open to reveal a long, felt-covered table. A large NASA logo hung on a second set of curtains behind the table, and there was an American flag at each end of the stage. Scale models of an Atlas rocket and a Mercury spacecraft were dramatically propped in front of the tables. To the right and left of the table were the presiding NASA spokesman Walter T. Bonney, NASA Administrator Dr. T. Keith Glennan, Dr. W. Randolph Lovelace II (now Chairman of the NASA Life Sciences Committee), Brig. Gen. Don D. Flickinger (USAF), Capt. Norman Lee Barr (USN), Robert R. Gilruth (Director of Project Mercury) and Gilruth's assistant Charles J. Donlan.2 As television cameras came to life and flashbulbs popped in a dazzling crescendo of light and sound, seven men dressed in civilian clothing were ushered in. They sat in alphabetical order right to left behind the table. They had mostly learned of their selection a week earlier, and were still assimilating the idea. Only the previous day, they had met some of the NASA people such as Walter Bonney and John "Shorty" Powers, their public relations officer, at Langley Field. As Deke Slayton recalled, it wasn't until the morning of the press conference that he actually got to meet and congratulate his fellow selectees. While Bonney was NASA's top public affairs officer, he had allowed his young assistant Paul Haney to brief the astronauts on what they could expect. "They won't just ask about your flying," Haney had warned. "They'll ask about your religion, do The seven Mercury astronauts at the press conference, 9 Aprill959. On stage, from left: B/Gen. Don Flickinger, Deke Slayton, Alan Shepard, Wally Schirra, Gus Grissom, John Glenn, Gordon Cooper, Scott Carpenter, Capt. Norman Barr, Robert Gilruth, Walt Bonney (standing). Charles Donlan is mostly obscured behind Bonney. (Photo: NASA) The Mercury Seven 277 you go to church regularly? They'll ask about your wife and kids. What's your political affiliation? Were you a Boy Scout as a kid?"3 Now the seven men peered apprehensively into the swarming sea of faces and exploding flashbulbs as NASA spokesman Walter Bonney patiently began to call for order. Wally Schirra would later describe it as "a scary event, as we faced a thundering herd of reporters and photographers".4 Deke Slayton agreed. "I've never seen anything like it, before or since," he said in his memoirs. "It was just a frenzy of light bulbs ... it was some kind of roar."5 THE MERCURY SEVEN After the initial clamour for photographs and footage had died down, Bonney started to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. The rules for this briefing are very simple. In about sixty seconds we will give you the announcement that you've all been waiting for: the names of the seven volunteers who will become the Mercury astronaut team. Following the distribution of the kit - and this will be done as speedily as possible - those of you who have p.m. deadline problems had better dash for your phones. We will have about a ten- or twelve­ minute break during which the gentlemen will be available for picture taking. There will be no talk, however. Then we will reconvene, hoping that the p.m. boys have done their file and come back and start the presentation and the Q and A." As attendants handed out press kits, Bonney pointed at the seven men seated self­ consciously on the stage, and in a booming voice announced, "Gentlemen, these are the astronaut volunteers. Take your pictures as you will, gentlemen!" It again proved difficult to maintain any sort of order as the unruly pack of press cameramen, eager for the best possible shot, kept surging to the front of the stage to get photographs of the seven men, all of them shouting to attract the attention of the bemused astronauts. Alan Shepard leaned back a little in his chair, glanced at Slayton and Schirra on either side of him, and said in mild shock, "I can't believe this. These people are nuts!" Slayton agreed. "It's a worm farm out there," he growled. 6 The men could not believe the maelstrom of noise and adulation taking place in front of them. They were being applauded, hailed as if they were a group of heroes who had done something extraordinary, yet all they had done as a unit was to turn up in civilian attire for a press conference. "It happened without us doing a damn thing," Slayton later mused.