The Atlas at Altus A.F.B.,Altus Oklahoma

 In the early fall of 1960 I drove south from Cheyenne, Wyo. for
the state of Oklahoma. Cheyenne had given me a sense of purpose
and direction, a small bit of maturity, and a great feeling of
good luck and personal fortune. There was nothing I would rather
be working on than the Atlas project.  

 The new car I was driving to Altus, Oklahoma was a British TR-3
Roadster. I purchased it when I returned to St. Louis, for
Christmas. If providence had determined that I should still be
doing stupid things, that car was the evidence. 

 I am 6'1" and then weighed about two hundred and ten pounds. The
TR-3 was a very small, two seat sports car. I could reach over the
side and touch the ground. The first comment I heard after
purchasing it was a girl turning to her friend as I drove up. She
didn't say nice car, she didn't say wow, she said "tight fit". 

 In the Cheyenne winter it was miserable. The heater blew hot air
on my right kneecap and that was all the heat I had. The snow came
in between the vinyl top and the windshield and made a little
mound running along the top of my dashboard that never melted. The
engine would never start after a freezing night on a missile site.
Someone always had to push start me. 

 The car was very light so the slightest press of the accelerator
would cause the rear wheels to spin on snow or ice. The minute I
drove it out of the show room I owed more than it was worth so I
was stuck with it until many payments were made. I drove that
miserable little car in heavy winters for three years.

 When I reached Altus A.F.B. the first Convair/Astronautics people
were starting to arrive. I met my boss, Nolan Manly, a newly
promoted Chief of Industrial Relations from the Convair/ Fort
Worth, plant. The project was still in the basic construction
phase and the authority and responsibility was with the Corps of
Engineers. We were considered, not too welcome, guests at the
sites. 

 I had no experience with chains of command, dealing with the
military, trade unions, or with bosses. My "boss" at Cheyenne, Don
Morgan, was a leader, not a boss, although at the time I did not
know the difference. My Father was a man of great personal
integrity. but he ruled as a boss, by decree, not by the charisma
of leadership. He owned his own business and reported to no-one. 
He was the only role model I had for an authority figure. That was
the only way I knew how to approach my new job as a Safety
Engineer. I was argumentative, inflexible and the holy grail was
the safety program. But I was not running my own business, like my
Father. I was instantly in big trouble.

 Under the rules of engagement between Corps of Engineers, USAF and
civilian contractors were agreements called J.O.D. and B.O.D.
J.O.D. was Joint Occupancy date and B.O.D. was the beneficial
occupancy date. The years have blurred my memory as to which was
which but one meant we were guests of the Corps on a site with no
authority. We were just looking over their shoulder while they
worked. The other gave us the contractual authority as
construction phased out an the installation of Atlas hardware
began. 

 We were in the former not the latter when I made my first visit to
a site. I was the "guest" of the Corps Safety Engineer. We drove
from site to site and he briefed me on the work in progress. Down,
underground in the launch control centers the painters were at
work. The air was rich with the smell of paint thinner.  The air
was also rich with the smell of other solvents as the fitters were
wiping down stainless steel with Trichlorethylene from fifty five
gallon drums. They were also smoking while they worked. We had
Convair people down in those LCCs with them.

 My newly acquired office was in a converted barracks on base. I
rushed back to write my first safety report. It was in the form of
a letter to the Corps. I outlined the hazards, specified the
regulations, and pointed out the risks to Convair personnel. I
listed the remedy, and mentioned that Convair personnel could not
continue to be present with these hazards uncorrected. I copied my
boss, USAF, my Chief Safety Engineer at the plant, and of course,
my Mother and Father.

 Within two days my letter hit the fan. The Corps responded with a
letter to the Chief of Operations Convair/Astronautics indicating
we had no authority onsite and banning me from further visits.
They indicated they could also ban all Astronautics personnel
until the official turn over date. Astro. must agree to operate
within the joint occupancy limits of authority.

 This was a big deal. Everyone was very upset. The Chief of
Operations called my Chief of Industrial Relations who called me
and there was a meeting.  I was suspended from any trips to the
sites. Jack Garrison was called in from San Diego to deal with me
and pull Convair out of the hot water, with the Corps. I didn't
have a friend in the world on this matter. My people seemed as
outraged by my letter, as the Corps.

 Jack Garrison arrived by plane the next day. I knew he was there
but he did not call for me or come to see me.  He was in meetings
with my managers. A joint session was scheduled with Astro, USAF,
and Corps on Monday. I was not invited to that meeting either.

 Before the meeting occurred and while Jack Garrison was speaking
with my supervisors two sites had fires in the LCC. 

 One was considerably damaged and one very lightly damaged. The
fires were the result of solvent saturated debris in contact with
a source of combustion. The only logical source of combustion  
was matches or unextinguished cigarettes. The Corps apologized.
The meeting on Monday was a victory meeting for Convair. I was not
invited but, I was off the hook. 

 Now Garrison came to see me, he was all smiles an enthusiasm.
Putting a twenty two year old Safety Engineer at Altus had
suddenly become a feather in his cap. I learned later that he had
definitely come to fire me. Corps rescinded the no visit rule, I
would be a welcome "guest". Jack was at ease, relaxed and wanted
to see the sites.

 As we drove out to the Snyder, Oklahoma site we talked shop. My
first hired Safety Technician Bob Powers sat behind us. I was
explaining to Jack some of the problems I had found on the sites.
I explained how I wished I had come down to Altus sooner, I could
have prevented some of the more ridiculous unsafe activities. He
was all ears and in a good mood. 

 I explained one the biggest complaints from our people and one of
the most stupid things I had seen onsite. That was our men,
staggering around, 100 plus feet in the air, on steel
superstructure, wearing safety belts, with heavy logging chains,
instead of light steel cable attached.  The heavy steel link
logging chains swung forward with each step and then swung
backward slamming into the men's legs, knocking them off balance.
I went on to say if it wasn't so dangerous it would be funny.   

 Bob Powers agreed with me later that Jack was all ears for my
report. He said that as I spoke first the back of Jack's neck and
then those ears became beet red. Of course my eyes were on the
road so I had no idea what was happening next to me. Suddenly and
completely to my surprise Jack exploded.  Man was he hot. He told
me that those logging chains were approved, purchased and shipped
by him. His staff spent a lot of time on that provision, that
through the use of logging chains there would be no chance of a
fraying or breakage occurring by the sliding of thin cable over
the sharp edge of the steel superstructure. My opinion about those
chains did not change. But I remembered my Chief of Operations
remark in Cheyenne. It was another time to button it. 

 Once again the importance of what we were to do and the short time
available to learn was impressed upon me.  I went in to work one
day to hear of a major disaster at our Roswell, New Mexico site.
There were immense cranes at work on the lip of all the silos. 
They swung loads of materials out over the edge of the silo and
then down to the workmen over one hundred feet below. The crane at
Roswell had tipped over into the silo while lowering material. The
operator, crane and load plunged one hundred and fifty two feet to
the bottom, killing him and a number of workman.

 Life went on at Altus. The construction phase was completed and
the installation phase began. Convair/Astro. took over. I hired my
secretary Sally Presley. Her husband had once been on the coaching
staff for the Oilers professional football team. One by one Safety
Inspectors from other D series sites like Cheyenne started showing
up to be Safety Technicians at Altus. My new hiring was greatly
reduced by the availability of these good people from other bases.
I hired a former Fire Chief with over twenty years of emergency
procedures under his belt. Our staff quickly grew to its full
complement. 

 Each site team was issued a car from the car pool. We were in
business. The teams inspected the sites. We also conducted new
employee orientation and a rescue team class. Each site foreman
was asked to appoint a number of men for site rescue and emergency
evacuations. The safety Dept. trained them in use of the M.S.A.
safety appliances, Scott Air Breathing apparatus and rehearsed the
methods of accessing the silo during a fire or other emergency to
rescue those who might be unable to egress on their own. 

 The training time for these procedures was a hot topic for many
site foremen. After all, they were held responsible for getting
this job completed on contract date. The Atlas installations were
high priority rush jobs. So Safety training time was often
considered lost time. Only later did I find that at some bases
training was given lip service, but the procedures were never
fully rehearsed. At Altus they were fully implemented. 

 My second trial by fire occurred shortly after we took over the
sites. I ordered dozens of Mine Safety Lamps for all sites.  These
would be put at various levels in the hole. If the oxygen content
became dangerously low they would go out notifying everyone to get
out of the silo. Nitrogen tank leaks could occur in the silo just
as they occurred at Cheyenne.  

 The new brass lamps arrived at the Safety office. We took the task
of filling them with kerosene and sending them out to the sites.
One man from each shift was appointed to keep them refilled. I
felt very good about having those in the silos. 

 By the first evening my Safety Techs. started calling in from
every site. The lamps were out and the union stewards had ordered
all personnel out of the silo until they were relit. Why aren't
they being refilled I demanded? No one can get the fuel tank open
to put the kerosene in came the replay.  That's nuts, how in the
hell can that be so hard! 

 I went back to the office and grabbed a lamp.  It was shipped with
the fuel canister off the lamp so I took one and put it together
just as we had when I fueled them that morning. Then I tried to
separate it again. The base turned as if it were unscrewing but
would not release. I examined that lamp every way I could think of
but it would not come apart again. There was no way to fill it if
it couldn't be separated. I had four hundred men out of the silos
waiting for an answer and management was hotter than hell. I could
not get the tank off.

 Finally in desperation I called Don Morgan in Cheyenne.  I
explained what was going on.  He was laughing so hard it took a
while to get an answer.  Did you get some little metal bars about
four inches long with your shipment? I replied that I had but they
didn't fit anything so I put them in a bag in the Safety equipment
room. That cracked him up some more.  Go get one, he instructed,
and I walked down the hall and came back with the bag of bars. 
OK, he said, put a lamp together, now take the metal bar and put
it across those two little steel buttons that protrude from the
side of the canister.  That made no sense to me at all, but I did
what I was told. I heard a click and I could unscrew the canister. 
What the hell? 

 Those bars are magnets Don explained. They pull the locking pins
back so the fuel can is removable. That makes it tamper-proof. Don
was still laughing when we hung up. I spent the rest of the night
driving to each of twelve sites delivering them their little metal
bars. That was one night I really wished I'd had some years in the
business before I was made a department head.

 I went back to St. Louis at every opportunity. Dad and I had two
more Christmases together. He was in very poor health. I always
sent Mom and Dad copies of my unclassified reports, directives,
and regulations. It kept him informed of the projects progress.
That was also my way of letting him know his youngest son was
doing all right. 

 One day, on impulse, I sat down and wrote him a long letter about
my respect for him. I gave him credit for having raised three
successful children and setting the values that provided for that
success. I just wanted him to know how important he was to all of
us. Mom told me later that he read just a few lines and then
excused himself to go read the rest in private. She came to him in
a few minutes, just to see that he was alright. He had the letter
in his hand and their were tears streaming down his face. I am so
glad I wrote that letter. He died from a heart attack while I was
visiting him over the fourth of July 1961.

 Astronautics concluded its first year at Altus, Oklahoma without a
major accident or incident. The safety section was very gratified
when our operation at Altus was awarded the Atlas award for 1961.
This was awarded to the off-site facility with the lowest
frequency/severity accident rate.