JENNIFER PARKS: Alan Bean a name from NASA history worth remembering

I grew up with an enthusiasm for NASA’s history. Apart from having mixed feelings about the direction of America’s space exploration in the 21st century, another concern of mine is how quickly we are losing the people who invested a lot of blood, sweat and tears into putting down the foundations of our nation’s space program.

When those foundations were being set, the astronauts from that day were considered heroes. The recent death of one among that group, Alan “Al” Bean, was someone who almost did not get a chance to join those ranks. Sadly, those outside the “NASA geek” world probably do not even know his name.

There are probably at least a few out there reading this and asking: “Who is Al Bean, and why should I care?”

Navy Capt. Alan LaVern Bean, a native of Wheeler, Texas, passed away on May 26 in Houston at the age of 86 after becoming ill two weeks before while traveling in Fort Wayne, Ind. He was the fourth person to walk on the moon as part of the Apollo 12 crew in November of 1969, later flying in Skylab 3 on a nearly 60-day mission in 1973.

His death means there are four moonwalkers left – Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin from Apollo 11, Dave Scott from Apollo 15, Charlie Duke from Apollo 16 and Harrison “Jack” Schmitt from Apollo 17. Bean was the last of his Apollo 12 crewmembers – Charles “Pete” Conrad Jr. and Richard “Dick” Gordon Jr. – to pass on.

Bean joined the astronaut corps in 1963 when he was named one of 14 from NASA Astronaut Group 3. He was the last in that group to be assigned a flight, getting the position of lunar module pilot on Apollo 12 while working in the Apollo Applications Program, during which time he was the first to dive into the Neutral Buoyancy Simulator that would be a valuable training tool for fellow astronauts. Conrad, who taught Bean at Naval Flight Test School, personally recommended Bean to take the place of Clifton “C.C.” Williams on the crew after a mechanical failure in the T-38 Williams was flying resulted in a fatal crash near Tallahassee, Fla.

While not as well-known, as say, Neil Armstrong, Bean still had the makings of a hero. The lunar module pilot proved himself less than two minutes into the flight after two bolts of lightning struck the Saturn V rocket the Apollo 12 crew was traveling to the moon in. The instrumentation in the spacecraft went haywire, and nobody else knew what the command from Mission Control “SCE to Auxiliary” meant. But Bean did. By acting on the command, he likely saved what might have otherwise been an aborted mission.

He did have his shortcomings. On this same mission, he gained a reputation for having bad luck with cameras. Color television footage from the moon’s Ocean of Storms became impossible when Bean accidentally pointed it to the sun, frying it. He also suffered a concussion when a camera in its window mount, which technically should have been under a couch, fell immediately after splashdown and hit Bean on the head.

He also snuck a camera timer on board in order to take a picture of him and Conrad together on the lunar surface. The timer ended up being misplaced, and their time was essentially up when it was uncovered and he left it on the lunar surface. He did, however, get a chance to use his skills as an accomplished artist to depict the photo that would have been taken.

Also still on the surface of the moon at the Apollo 12 landing site are the wings of Williams, whose death opened the door for Bean to have the opportunity to walk on the moon, as well as the silver astronaut pin Bean wore for six years and was to be replaced by a gold pin as was customary when an astronaut flew in space.

His Skylab 3 flight was followed by his retirement from the Navy two years later, and NASA in 1981. The aeronautical engineering graduate from the University of Texas at Austin acted as the head of the Astronaut Candidate Operations and Training Group with the astronaut office as a civilian before his departure from NASA. By the time his time with NASA was up, he had logged in 1,671 hours and 45 minutes in space – including 10 hours and 26 minutes spent outside of the spacecraft.

Like many astronauts of his generation, he had a hand in writing a few books on his experience and earned recognition with induction into such institutions as the International Space Hall of Fame, the U.S. Astronaut Hall of Fame and the National Aviation Hall of Fame. He also received honorary doctorates from Texas Wesleyan College and the University of Akron. His artwork, much of which was influenced by his time in space – and even included some of the moon dust from his suit – comprised paintings that were in an exhibition at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum in July 2009 to make the 40th anniversary of the first moon landing.

I give that perhaps long, drawn-out history to make a simple point. The generation that walked on our moon was a unique one, and in this generation much of their contributions to exploration are all but forgotten. This nation’s space program would not have become what it did without the thousands of those who worked in the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo projects.

As this group of those who flew to and walked on the moon passes on, I hope their history will not die with them.

Email Jennifer Parks at [email protected]. Follow her on Twitter @ABH_JParks