Alfred C Thompson II

“This is Sarah Givens. We are hear today to meet with the ‘The Old Man of Outer Space’, Wild Bill McDaniel. But first, a message from our sponsor.”

“Cut and you are out.”

The cameras backed away from the young blond news woman with the too good makeup job and the frowning man in the chair next to her.

“Ms. Givens, you know I’m not all that old” the man growled without sounding all that threatening. “I’m only retiring because I’ve made my money and because I want to spend more time with my wife and relax a bit.” The newswoman smiled, “I know that Mr. McDaniel. You’re only a little older than my father. But you have a dramatic nickname and it would be a shame not to use it.” William J McDaniel wasn’t buying it. Not completely. Sure, part of him realized that making an early name for himself, the “Wild Bill” part for example, had helped him market himself in the early days. But he was past that now. He just wanted a nice quiet retirement.

The director was back in their faces. “OK, people. Back in three, two and … “ The final one being a silent mouthing of the word with a hand signal.

“Hello. We are here today with one of the legends of space travel, Bill McDaniel. Mr. McDaniel was the first of the great pioneers in private space craft. For over 30 years he has designed, built and piloted privately owned space craft for both commercial and government customers. Now at age 57 he is retiring. Tonight on the eve of his last flight he is here in our studio with us. Welcome Mr. McDaniel.” Pause for applause from the studio audience. Bill McDaniel smiled and nodded his head. TV interviews stopped making him nervous decades ago.

“So tell us, why now? What made you decide to retire at this time?”

“Well, “ Bill started with the slow quiet delivery he was known for, “I guess it is just time. As you know I’ve been flying the same shuttle for over 12 years now. We have a brand new one coming online next week. My old baby is retiring so I thought maybe it was time for me to retire as well.”

“But surely you could have piloted the new shuttle. You did help design it and it is your company that owns it.” “That is true but I thought it was time to hand off the reins to a younger guy. Give these kids a chance to enjoy space flight without some old guy looking over their shoulder. That’s why I am retiring from the company as well as from the pilot business.”

“What will you be doing in retirement? You’ve been pretty active your whole life.”

“My dear wife and I have a cottage on a lake in the mountains of New Hampshire. We plan to move there and I will spend my days fishing, kayaking, and hiking. I’m going to keep busy.”

“What about travel? I understand that you have lecture offers all over the world.” “Nope. I may go as far north as Coos County and as far south as the New Hampshire shore. But I’m done traveling.” Sarah Givens laughed knowingly “I’m sure you are.” She didn’t believe a word of it of course. Someone like Bill McDaniel could never give up travel. Not when he’s spent most of his adult life traveling around the world in a space craft. Tat was just not credible.

The interview was soon over and Bill got up to leave. “Really Bill, what will you do?” the interviewer asked one last time. Bill signed heavily. He’d heard that question a lot since he announced his pending retirement. “I’m going home to New Hampshire and I am never leaving.” And then he left the studio.

The shuttle launch was uneventful of course. Events that are expected to be major milestones always are. It is the routine events that go horribly wrong. Or so Bill McDaniel believed. Well, maybe it was more wishful thinking than actual believe. But it got him in the shuttle this one last time. Truth be known, the old man of outer space was just plain tired. If he could have easily gotten out of this flight he would have. Or so he told his wife and himself. In his heart he knew he had to say goodbye to space before he retired.

He really was tired but not of space. He was tired of the demands on his time, the pressure of design, of running a company, and of all the attention. He was happy in space but earth was crowed. There was just too much stuff. That is why Bill decided on the wilds of New Hampshire. Though they were not quite so wild as he would have liked. They were at least familiar, quiet and he could be alone with his wife and his thoughts. They were planning a welcome home party in his honor of course. A big deal in Concord with the governor and others. Probably a crowd of people and TV cameras. That was something Bill would have preferred to avoid. But he hoped it would be over quickly and he could rest.

Once the shuttle cleared that atmosphere Bill became very busy. He checked his location and the location of the aging International Space Station. Today’s delivery was a routine load of spare parts, supplies and a birthday cake for one on the Russians stationed on the satellite. Expensive cake Bill thought but it was good for morale. Or so he was told. They paid him to deliver not decide what was worth the price.

The crew was happy to see Bill and not just for the supplies. Bill was popular among the astronauts and scientists who worked the various space stations. He was willing to sneak little things up to them from time to time (“no charge!”) and made an effort to know them as people.

The shipment was offloaded automatically by robots. The parts for many of those robots had been delivered by Bill himself over the years. He went abort the station to say goodbye to the crew. The Russians of course wanted him to drink some vodka. “Not a chance guys. I’m driving.” The joke was old but still somehow funny. Everyone laughed. Bill wondered how they managed to get the vodka aboard. Some things Bill would not deliver. Space was dangerous enough sober. And Bill didn’t drink on earth for that matter.

Bill returned to his shuttle and locked the doors. Before separating from the shuttle he double checked all systems. He did not get to be the old man of outer space by being careless. One last look at the station crew waving from the observation port and Bill separated from the station for the ride home. “It’s almost over Old Gal” he said as much to himself as to the shuttle who was his old friend.

An hour later he was starting his last descent. The radio in his ear called to him, “Ah, Bill, there is something headed your way.” “What are you talking about, Jim, I have no time for games here.” Bill snarled a bit more gruffly than he’d intended. He just wanted to get home.

“I’m sorry Bill but there is something falling in your general direction. Not sure what it is. Space debris – natural or man-made we can’t tell. Probably nothing to worry about but it looks like it is going to pass through your descent path.”

“Well, jeeze Jim, space is big. What are the odds it will hit me? Do I need a course change or not?”

“Bill the trajectory is a little hard to figure. It’s moving erratically. The telemetry guys think it is probably unstable and it may even break up before it gets to you.” Bill sighed. Space debris had never been a problem but of course they talked about it all the time.

“I tell you what Jim. I am going to continue as planned. If you get something solid, no pun intended, let me know.”

The shuttle cut deeply into the atmosphere now. The tiles under the shuttle heated up red hot. Bill monitored all the sensors and found everything to be well inside acceptable tolerances. “Going to be an easy one” he thought. Then the radio again “Bill! The object split up. A piece is heading your way.” Before the frantic voice died away a louder sound, much closer to home hit. A crash from the rear of the shuttle and the shuttle started to spin.

In a voice that surprised Bill with its calmness, Bill announced. “Mission Control, I think we have a problem.”

Bill struggled to stop the spinning. The heat patterns on the shuttles skin were all wrong. The shuttle could not take the heat if it wasn’t at the right attitude. There was not fuel to return to space of course. Getting the shuttle under control was the only option.

The rudder controls were not responding. Red warning lights were lit across most of the control board. The ailerons were responding sluggishly but they were all he had. Using them he managed to slow the shuttle and stop the spinning. His attitude was right or at least close enough to right to solve the heat problem. But he was going to fast.

“Mission Control, what can you tell me?”

The voice on the other end of the radio was not as calm. “OK, Bill, as much as we can tell a chunk of the space debris hit the shuttle. We’ve got a chase jet in the air but you are off course. You are heading northeast. Can you turn it south? You can probably ditch in the Gulf if you can get it going south.”

“Sorry Jim. No rudder. I can’t do much about direction. I can bank a bit but if I do too much I think it may break apart.”

“OK then. We’ll figure out where you will hit. We’ll have that in about two minutes. How does the escape system look? We’re not getting full telemetry data down here.”

“Hum, let me check.” Pause. The lights are red. Press the status check and reset buttons. The lights for the escape system turn green.

“Jim, it looks OK but I’m not sure I want to bet my life on it.” Jim could not help spitting out a tense laugh. “Well there Bill you may not have a choice.”

“Bill, navigation says you are going to hit Concord dead on. Can you turn the shuttle a bit north? We’re sending a course change.” Bill checked the data and got the reluctant shuttle to respond. “Headed into the White Mountains are we? Think you’ll be able to find me in those woods Jim?”

No sooner had those words been spoken then the shuttle started to shake violently. Bill could feel parts of the shuttle fall off. The temperature inside the shuttle started to rise. At first Bill thought it was his imagination but his instruments told him it was true.

“Jim, it’s falling apart. Is it safe to leave now?” The animated reply came back immediately “Yes, Bill, get out of there. Do it now!”

Bill pushed the escape button. Nothing happened. He check the lights and they were green. He pushed the button again the radio urgently encouraging him “eject Bill. Eject now!”

Still nothing happened but an increase in vibration, noise and heat. “Well Old Gal I guess we’re going in together.” Bill knew that he had never felt such heat. Strangely he thought of a book from his childhood. Fahrenheit 451 the temperature that paper started to burn. He wondered at what temperature skin started to burn. The heat knocked him out and spared him from knowing.

Along interstate 93 tourists stood on the overlook reading a sign. “Yep, kids, when I was your age there was a great stone face on that cliff. The Old Man of the Mountain they called it. It was something to see.” The kids yawned. Dad sure could be boring. Timmy, the youngest, suddenly cried out “Dad what is that? “ and pointed to the south west. A blazing fireball was headed their way. “Duck.” The father cried “hit the ground.”

Seconds later the fireball crashed into the base of the cliff. Fire, smoke and dust flew into the sky. Rocks, both large and small, fell from the face of the cliff to the ground below.

It took awhile for the firefighters to get to the scene. It took hours more before the fire was extinguished. Bill’s body was never found of course. Investigators theorize that he was ashes even before the flaming debris that had been his shuttle hit the mountain wall.

His wife spoke at his memorial which took place at the same overlook area where the Jackson family had watched the crash. “Bill is home. His ashes lie with the bones of his beloved Old Man of the Mountain. May they both rest in peace.”