Outside of those observations, I don’t dwell on the fact that I’ve been there. The moon is such a tiny step for humans; I am waiting for us to go somewhere that really means something. I have become convinced that there is a genetic drive in us that says we have to go into space. Why? Not because we want to visit Mars, but because someday we will have to find a new home. Our sun won’t last forever. We’ll need to protect the species by going somewhere else. We may have to travel enormous distances, so we had better begin learning how to do it. If we don’t start now, we’ll never get there.
In the meantime, I think about Earth. Having seen it from a distance, I appreciate what a finite object it is. I plan to focus on what we’ve got here, far more than what is out there.
Of all the places I have traveled, it is still hard to beat a Michigan summer. I like to walk in the woods and fields, just as I did as a kid back on the farm. Except now, I’m not alone. On a warm evening I’ll be with my children, and their children. Sitting on the grass, I can feel the living soil as I rest my hands on it. There’s new life there, new potential, waiting to grow. It’s comforting.
Sometimes, while I sit and enjoy the good company of my family, the moon will slowly rise above the trees. I generally don’t pay it much thought. But occasionally I am reminded of my brief glimpse into infinity while alone on the moon’s far side. I still have lingering questions about what I experienced. The answers won’t come in my lifetime. That will be your job.
Try it, sometime. Some day all of us who journeyed to the moon will be gone. Take a walk on a summer night, look up at the moon, and think of us. A part of us is still there and always will be.
EPILOGUE
As a senior, veteran astronaut at the time of the Gemini, Apollo, Skylab, and Apollo-Soyuz missions, over the years, I have encouraged the crew members of those flights to write down their insights of their participation in history’s greatest achievements and adventures. The Apollo 15 crew explored the moon, both on the surface and in orbit, and flew one of the world’s greatest scientific expeditions. Al Worden did a superb job as a vital member of that crew. I am pleased he has finally shared his story.
After I commanded the Apollo 10 mission to the moon, I replaced Alan Shepard as chief of the astronaut office, followed by a promotion to deputy director of Flight Crew Operations. I was involved in numerous key decisions made behind closed doors about who would fly in space and who would not, as well as issues surrounding astronauts who had bent the rules. In the early days of the space program, we determined that it was best for the program to keep these decisions internal and informal, not passed up through the chain of command to the top bureaucrats. In most cases, they wouldn’t want to know some of the issues that involved astronauts, nor would they probably have understood the best course of action.
Any organization, after its first fresh and lean years, tends to become more bureaucratic, and NASA was no different. At some point, the days of astronauts with a large degree of autonomy and influence were bound to fade. The difference between the authority of the original Mercury Seven and today’s NASA astronauts is striking. The question was never if the change would happen, but when. And change did happen, over a period of many years.
After several incidents toward the end of the Apollo program, the bureaucrats moved in for good. Many of them felt for years that we astronauts had far too much power, prestige, and responsibility. Things were never as informal as they had been before. NASA changed and lost some of its original pioneering and engineering spirit. All of the rules were now laid out in black and white, and every decision passed through multiple layers of middle and upper managers.
Al Worden brought his talent to NASA during a time when the balance had started to shift. Deke Slayton was the director of Flight Crew Operations, and as part of his duties had capably managed the astronauts on a basis of trust and personal responsibility. Al, too, was a trusting guy and had no reason to doubt his superiors. After approving Al’s selection as an astronaut, Deke Slayton gave him one of the earliest flight assignments in his selection group—backup for Apollo 12. It was obvious that Deke thought a lot of him. When it came to carrying out his flight duties, Al performed superbly.
The nonflight issues surrounding the Apollo 15 crew were traumatic for Deke and the entire Apollo community. The events ended Al’s astronaut and military career, and it is unfortunate that he feels it tainted his name for decades. Personally, I always thought he was an outstanding individual and test pilot, going back to our first meeting, and my opinion of him has never changed. The Apollo 15 mission should be remembered primarily as a perfect flight, greatly advancing our scientific knowledge of the moon. The crew did a great job of flying all aspects of their challenging mission. Al should not have his efforts degraded by the decades-old, short-lived publicity surrounding some postal covers carried on board.
So, I’m delighted that Al has finally chosen to document his experiences and relate the outstanding success of his Apollo 15 mission to the moon. As one who commanded a mission to the moon, flying the first lunar module to orbit low over its majestic surface, I can relate.
Lt. General Tom Stafford, USAF (Ret.)
Pilot, Gemini 6A
Command Pilot, Gemini 9A
Commander, Apollo 10 and Apollo-Soyuz
Former Chief of the Astronaut Office
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A great number of people throughout my life helped me through the events, good and bad, recounted in this book. You know who you are, and you have my continuing thanks for your friendship and support.
I’m most grateful to the team at Smithsonian Books, who believed in and backed this project with dedication and enthusiasm. Roger Launius, a senior curator of the Space History Division at the National Air and Space Museum and NASA’s former chief historian, kindly added his authoritative voice to those recommending that this book be published. Carolyn Gleason and Matt Litts ably steered this project to fruition, with the expert editing of Lise Sajewski, who sharpened and clarified the story considerably.
A number of space researchers, friends, collectors, and enthusiasts were of great help when writing this book. They provided archival materials and information that helped us make every page as accurate as possible. For some, it was simply to confirm one small detail. For others, the help went much deeper. Our thanks go to Harry Andonian, Jurg Bolli, Paul Bramley, Marcy Frumker, Jay Gallentine, Rich and Rob Godwin, Ed Hengeveld, Ray Holt, Tracy Kornfeld, Hamish Lindsay, John Macco, Bruce Moody, Willie Moseley, David Newell of the Fred Rogers Company, Robert Pearlman of collectSPACE, J. L. Pickering, David Shomper, Lee Starrick, Bill Stoval, and Simon Vaughan.
Reading and rereading draft chapters is a thankless task, but outside eyes often pick up details we would otherwise miss. For their assistance, our appreciation goes to Brent Bernasconi, Rossco Davis, Erin French, as well as Anne and Bill Morrell for their valuable insights. Reading chapters from a space historian’s viewpoint also greatly improved our early drafts, and for this task we were lucky enough to have the expert team of Colin Burgess, Jim Busby, Michael Cassutt, and John Charles. Their vast knowledge of the subject area sharpened the book.
Kris Stoever is a true triple threat: the daughter of an astronaut, a bestselling author, and one of the world’s best editors. She focused her unique talents and insights on our manuscript; the book was greatly improved by her assistance, friendship, and sound advice.