“This was not easy…when you’re out there, you just want to get back
to your families and friends.” Astronaut Reid Wiseman
After a glorious spin around the moon, four astronauts aboard Artemis II splash down in the Pacific, just a few miles west of San Diego. We are glued to the live feed on my iPhone, watching this epic adventure come to a sweet splashy end. “My daddy would have loved this,” I exclaim to my husband and friends as we’re munching chips and salsa at our favorite Mexican restaurant.
My father would have turned 102 this year and was probably born “looking up.” I still remember the night he led my mother and me outside to see “the most amazing thing.” His words, not mine. We wait and wait until suddenly there it is: A little white light creeping across the dark sky. No chop-chop sound like a helicopter. There is no sound at all! What is it daddy? I’m breathlessly curious and scared at the same time. As he answers, his rich baritone voice goes even lower and slower. “THAT…IS…THE…RUSSIANS.” Like what? “How did all the Russians get up there?” My words, not his.
The memory of that Washington D.C. evening is seared into my bones. It also sets the trajectory of my father’s career. Soon after the Sputnik shocker, my aeronautics engineer-writer daddy got a gig at NASA. Apparently that Russian satellite freaked out the folks in the Pentagon too and the space race was on.
He worked in public relations and my father’s claim to fame was that he named the first two American monkeys that went into space (and came back). As the story was reported to me, scientists didn’t know which monkeys would be chosen for the big show until the last minute. Were the volunteer primates jumping up and down screeching “ME! ME! ME?” Well the point is the monkey names had to be non-gender-specific and start with the letters A and B.
My mother’s “complicated” family lobbied for my grandfather’s name (Abe) and my mother’s (Bernice). Well that didn’t happen. Little Able and Miss Baker made the historic round trip. The in-laws were pissed…as usual. My father finally threw up his hands and moved my mother and me as far away as possible — to Los Angeles — where he would spend the rest of his life in the aerospace biz. I’m a California girl because of those monkeys.
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I got to meet the Mercury astronauts and watch a launch from Cape Canaveral. My father and I shared a daddy-daughter passion for Gemini and Apollo. For much of his career he worked at TRW, the company that designed and built the descent engine for the lunar landing module.
Do you remember Apollo 13? The lunar module was supposed to transport two of the guys from the mother ship to the moon’s surface (and back again), but it ended up being the lifeboat that got all three of them safely back to earth after the infamous “Houston-We-Have-A-Problem” near-disaster. Sometime later those three astronauts landed at TRW’s sprawling campus in Redondo Beach, tearfully thanking the men and woman in this noble industry for saving their lives. My father was there too and I could tell that afternoon changed him…
Years later my daddy and I would head to Edwards Airforce Base in the Mohave desert for the shuttle landings. His press pass got us a better view and good seats at the follow-up press conference. I remember people waving their NASA-issued glow sticks at the first night landing. I remember cheering for Challenger…the same space shuttle that would later explode on its tenth flight. I remember my father phoning me with the dreadful news and weeping. Just weeping. He was not a guy who cries.
All these memories are flooding back. What a mishmash of happy, sticky sadness, “I-can’t- believe-it-happened” wonder. Just think about the numberless people who have worked so diligently to put human beings “up there” in the first place and moon-adjacent again. But especially I am hands-over-heart grateful to be my father’s daughter.
And what made those iPhone moments at the Mexican restaurant even more special? I am sharing them with people I love.
🌗 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔
Halaine Steinberg
Beautifully written! You have clearly touched the hearts and memories of so many people.
Anonymous
Just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to write and share this beautiful essay about your daddy, along with the photos. I, too am hands over heart grateful to be my father’s daughter, and your newsletter was particularly touching as my father died a few months ago. He would have turned 93 yesterday.
The classes, your energy, and the community have been lovely satellites of light amidst us all navigating such difficult and unbelievable times in this country. With gratitude.
Anonymous
What a great story about your father. I remember my father (who would also be 102 this year) standing in our backyard with me and my sister looking for Sputnik. We finally spotted it flashing slowly on and off about 30 deg. above the horizon.
Anonymous
I loved your blog and enthusiasm for recalling times with your father in the early space race. I too remembered my Dad’s involvement in early Launch Pad 39 construction at the Space Center as our whole family watched the Artemis Mission. My siblings and I live spread out across the country but all of us were online, texting, and phoning each other with awe for the accomplishment and sentimental stories about our Father. Thanks for sharing your own stories and thanks for adding another great moment to our day.
Anonymous
Had to write to tell you that I share your passiong and excitement about the Artemis mission and its wonderful success. My parents owned an electroplating business that subcontracted to, if I remember correctly, Motorola to plate the gyroscopes for the earliest satellites. Later they painted the exterior of some rockets with a special ablating paint to help keep the material cool (when it’s burning up through the atmosphere kind of “cool”).
Anonymous
I enjoyed your “space” talk. My father-in-law was one of the TRW engineers who got the phone call to see if he could help bringing the Apollo crew back. My husband remembers that day. We are both retired from TRW/Northrop but not engineers.
I camped out at the desert to watch the first shuttle landing. Vivid memory of the sonic boon & everybody cheering! Very moving experience. Proud to be amongst fellow Americans honoring our country.
Anonymous
I read your blog today about your Dad, you and space flights. Was really fun to read. And here is the coincidence…..
I grew up in Maryland and my Dad… was responsible for the development of a full range of real time simulation procedures used to validate the IBM-developed Project Mercury Computational and Data Flow Equipment System. And he trained NASA flight controllers… He played a major role in the development and operation of this first US manned space project’s real time computational system!! So while you were watching the launch from Cape Canaveral my dad was in the control room!!!
He would have also been so excited about the latest Artemis flight! I was!
Anonymous
What a great memory you have of time spent with your father….i don’t remember much about Sputnik, but I use to watch Skylab streak across the sky many nights. I, like you was always intrigued by NASA stuff and thought it would be fascinating to be astronaut. I remember the challenger explosion, as I was heading back to Long Beach to visit my friend Neil at the Golden Sails Hotel the day of the explosion. The GSH has fond memories for me, it is where we met and I thoroughly, enjoyed your entertainment in the piano lounge.
Anonymous
My jaw dropped as I read the astonishing life tales of your dad, and his naming of the first two American chimps who went into space.
Of course I had to look up and learn more about the monkeys your dad named and I am so glad they made it: Able, an American-born rhesus monkey, and Baker, a South American squirrel monkey, followed on May 28, 1959, aboard an Army Jupiter missile. Launched in the nose cone, the two animals were carried to a 300-mile altitude, and both were recovered unharmed. However, Able died June 1 on the operating table from effects of anesthesia, as doctors were about to remove an electrode from under her skin. Baker died of kidney failure in 1984 at age 27.
I am also fascinated that you got to witness a shuttle landing. The Challenger is loaded for me since a beloved high school teacher, the great and brave Christa McAuliffe, was sent to her death due to negligence re the O rings and politics and more. Did you know she taught Women’s History? A total rarity.
Also, thanks for sharing your dehydration story. I love water. I could, and do, drink ice water all day. The problem is, I hate waking up in the middle of the night to pee. Damn it!
Dean Arnold
Hi Cali,
It was lovely hearing about your special bond with your dad. Clearly, space was a big connection. So funny about naming the monkeys and your relatives feeling slighted. What a journey from monkeys to moon landings! I know you treasure your memories and we got to tag along. Thanks for sharing.
Dean Arnold
Cali Rose
Thank you Dean and I bet you have stories too that you will treasure always.
Illece Buckley Weber
Thank you for sharing this beautiful tribute to your father.
Cali Rose
Thank you Illece!
Buffy
Greetings from the high country of Arizona. Love reading your news; brings back memories from long ago. The Artemis II was so wonderful watching their return….cry for happy! Thanks so much for the send! Buffy
Cali Rose
Thank you Buffy. I bet you get to see a lot of stars in your corner of the world!
Charles Silverberg
I am very grateful for your “Paper Moon” piece, Cali. Thank you, thank you.
So well-written and so effective in sharing your total remarkable experience with your father, who sounds like quite a guy.
See you in class.
Chuck
Cali Rose
Thank You Chuck and yes I miss him everyday but oh…what a world of adventures!
Ellen Bloom
I LOVE your stories about the space race, Cali! You had a front seat to all of that amazing history! This is my story about those times: When the moon landing happened on July 20th, 1969, I was at Scandia Restaurant on the Sunset Strip with my parents, celebrating my birthday. There were little TV sets placed all around the restaurant. When Neil Armstrong took those first steps on the moon, around 8pm Pacific time most people got up from their tables to be closer to one of the TVs just to see the first man walk on the moon. It was so exciting. I’ll never forget it!
Cali Rose
Thank you Ellen and what a great place and time to celebrate this momentous event! Good food, good company and sweet memories.
AGNES COTTI
Hey Cali it is Agnes. I miss you and your CC Strummers. I really enjoy reading your blogs and learing so much of your multifaceted life. Thank you for the insights you post.
I may look up your class online and sing along or may even take up the ukelele.
Sincerely,
Agnes
Cali Rose
So lovely to hear from you Agnes. Gosh we are still here living these “interesting” lives. Please drop into my Zoom classes and in-person jams (in Mar Vista) anytime and sing, sing, sing. We need music now more than ever. I’d love to see you again!
Dianne Gire
Loved reading all this Cali!! What wonderful memories. Thank you for sharing!
xoxoxo
Cali Rose
Thank you Dianne for taking the time to read my blog. And on we musicians go, huh. But don’t forget to look up!