I WAS THERE - part 3
It soon became clear that this truck could not run more than forty
three miles per hour with the pedal on the floor. The red light
was on, the siren was on yet we were forced into a leisurely drive
into Cheyenne. Soon the day shift ended at the site. The men,
driving home from work, were catching up and passing me. They were
blowing their horns and shaking their fists. I was torn between
stopping the ambulance and switching this man to one of their cars
or keep on going. We were, at last, reaching the outskirts of
Cheyenne so I kept on rolling. We finally reached the hospital
where he died a few minutes later.
The I.B.E.W. (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers)
refused to enter any work site until modern ambulances were
provided. How many times I had started the engine of that old
ambulance, just to make sure it would work, when a need arose. But
I never thought to take it out for a test drive. Some of the
electricians, men I had worked shoulder to shoulder with all
summer, seemed to hold me responsible. I became
determined to learn more, be more observant, and check things out
more thoroughly.
Shortly afterwards, on another site, a man was nearly cut in half.
A stainless steel high pressure flex hose broke loose. The hose,
under thousands of pounds pressure flailed wildly, cutting down
anything or anyone in its path. Again the seriousness of what we
were to do here was driven home. I spent many late night hours
studying to learn more about every aspect of this profession. Poor
performance in this college could get someone killed.
The obvious question is why were we, superficially trained people,
assigned to watch out for the safety of men in a hazardous
environment. The answer is simple. We were all they had.
One day, The Atlas was being designed and built in a plant. The
technicians were supervised and protected by a thoroughly trained
factory staff. Months later Convair/Astronautics had a contract to
take the Atlas Rocket out of the plant and distribute it
throughout the United States. The qualified people were used up
instantly. Promoted to their "Murphy's level of incompetence".
Then the "know nothings" were hired by the car load to go out into
the field and make a job safe with a minimum of training. My job
should have been manned by someone with years of experience. But
there weren't even weeks of experience around. This job had never
been done before.
For the first time I was virtually living my work. We got a new
Safety Engineer. W.D. Morgan had spent over twenty years in the
Navy and retired as a Chief. He knew a lot about motivating young
men. He became a second father. It took him a very short time to
realize that the written body of safety knowledge on off-site
missile operations was virtually non existent. He decided to write
the book. I decided to help him.
We gathered every publication he thought would give some
direction. The Corps of Engineers had spent many decades in every
form of construction. Their rules along with Morgan's Navy
regulations and every thing else we could find were extracted,
bent, shaped, reformed to meet out needs. General information on
explosive hazards, flammability, and high pressure hazards, were
examined and debated. Many nights we were still working when the
sun came up. We worked hard and fast to fashion new documents
covering the hazards the off-site people were confronting.
On those days, when the sun came up, I just put on my safety hat
and drove out to the pad. A full day there was often followed by
another night with Morgan, writing, reading, and discussing. We
had a job to do and not much time to do it. It was hard work and
also the most fun I'd ever had. All this for the $1.25 per hour
Safety Inspector's wages that were half of my pay as a laborer.
I was doing a walking inspection of the pads when the military
showed up. USAF really wasn't on the sites that much during the
installation phase. But when they came they always acted as if we
were all working for them. I, on the other hand, was working for
Convair safety and didn't give a hoot what Air Force thought if
they encroached on my safety regulations. So, when this group of
six officers strolled leisurely up to one of the missiles, I was
quick to note the big guy in the middle had a cigar clenched in
his teeth. That was all I needed to see. I made a beeline for
these people yelling "get that cigar off this pad" as I
approached.
Two of the officers walked quickly toward me. I was intercepted
about twenty feet from that cigar. One of the officers tried to
stare me down as the other asked " Do you know who that is". My
reply was that" he was a man smoking a dam cigar and that was all
I needed to know" "This man," said the officer, "is General Curtis
Lemay, Chief of Strategic Air Command and the cigar is not lit."
Once we had the fire hazard straightened out I was impressed.
Lemay was another of my childhood heros of the WWII Air Corps.
Colonel Curtis E. Lemay flew the lead B-17 of the 96th Bombardment
Group on the raid to Regensburg, Germany in 1943. Regensburg and
Schweinfort were two of the most costly and dangerous raids flown
against Germany in WWII.
The officers enjoyed the fact that I was impressed by their boss.
I was permitted to approach and welcome him to the site. He shook
my hand briefly and said "good job" through the cigar while he
looked past me at the Atlas.
While I was working on the Cheyenne project the Wyoming Air
National Guard offered me the opportunity to go to flight school
in Waco, Texas. I would receive the training to earn my wings and
a commission in the Air Force Reserve. I would return to Cheyenne
to fly the F-86D jet, all weather interceptor. That was the
hardest decision of my twenty two years. I spent an emotional and
thought filled month. I finally decided give up the dream of
becoming a fighter pilot, and stick with the Atlas.
One day while on a site inspection I happened by some Techs. who
were performing electrical tests. I noticed that the installed pad
equipment had switches marked "simulators." One in particular was
marked "Overhead Missile Door Open." It nagged at me the rest of
the day. Finally I went back and asked the Techs. " what are the
the simulator switches for?" The reply was that it was a time
saver for system checks. Bypassing part of the system, cut hours
from a procedure.
I thought that over until the next day. Finally I asked "If you
can simulate the missile door open, what keeps you from raising
the missile into the closed door." That struck them as humorous.
"Design engineering makes that impossible. There are electrical
safeguards." they replied. They however, did not know what those
safeguards were.
I started looking for those electrical safeguards. It was a
question in need of an answer. What I found was, that the people
who had the education and the system knowledge, were positive it
could not happen. But they were vague about why not. The higher I
went the more authority replaced substance in the answers. The
replies started to become more strained. One conclusion was that,
a locally hired, hourly safety inspector did not know enough to be
asking those kinds of questions. My inquiry was a waste of
engineering time, said one home office chief engineer.
The ex-navy chief, my boss, Don Morgan, saw that I was getting
into hot water. He permitted it. He stood behind me when I wrote
Impact Reports. Impact reports were filed with both home office
and the Air Force. Management had to take them very seriously. My
boss was taking a lot of flack.
We finally found ourselves in the Chief of Operations Office. That
was as high as you could go at an off-site base. Mr Jeremiah ruled
that while I had an interesting issue, the impact reports I wrote
had too high a priority for a theory. It was diverting people from
the job of getting the Atlas installed and sold off to the Air
Force. I got a polite but firm instruction to "button it."
Shortly after, in Kansas in 1959 a "D" series Atlas was raised
into the closed overhead doors of the launch building. The
simulator switches were found to be the hardware part of the
error. The cost was over six million dollars. There was no loss of
life or personal injury as the test was being run from the LCC.
The Atlas, the gantry and some support systems were destroyed.
Shortly there-after our Chief of Operations was called back to
Convair/Astronautics headquarters at Kearny Mesa, Ca. He took me
with him. We deplaned at a stopover in Phoenix. While Mr. Jeremiah
and I were having a drink the plane taxied off without us. We had
missed our flight. Mr. Jeremiah walked up to the ticket counter
and pulled some identification from his wallet. He spoke with the
attendant for just a moment. Within a few moments the aircraft
turned around and taxied back to the departure area. The ramp was
thrown down and we boarded. I was amazed. I didn't think anyone
short of the President could do that. We had first class attention
for the rest of the trip.
The next day Jack Garrison, Astro's Chief Safety Engineer took me
for a short walk through the plant. I was introduced to the plant
safety and medical staff as his Cheyenne Safety Inspector. I
wasn't aware that I was being evaluated. The next day I met the
Chief of Aviation and Aerospace Medicine for Convair. I was
introduced to him as one of Garrison's Safety Engineers. I
returned to Cheyenne to pack. My career at Cheyenne was over.
I received a promotion and a new assignment I would head south to
Altus, Oklahoma. I was now the youngest Safety Engineer in the
Aerospace program. As pleased as I was to hold that distinction it
would cause some major problems in the future
Altus along with sites at Roswell, New Mexico, Plattsberg, New
York, Salinas, Kansas and elsewhere would receive the new Atlas
"F" series silo installations. Now we were going to dig a 152 ft.
hole in the ground and put the equivalent of an eight-story
superstructure within. My old job had been upgraded in order to
attract a higher skill level. I would hire thirty two Safety
Technicians for a twelve site operation. My greatest hope was that
I would find some of those people with more experience than I had.
I wanted employees more knowledgeable then their boss. Maybe in
that way I could avoid the consequences of Murphy's Law.