Pilots

Sometime in late August or early September, people living in the corridor between Houston and Galveston, Texas, will be treated to the sight of a perky small biplane passing overhead. It will be painted in the Navy fighter scheme of the late 1930s. What they won't know is that the man at the controls and builder of the Murphy Renegade kitplane is Eugene Kranz, a certified American hero.

Gene Kranz is well known to those within the NASA space program, but the rest of the world learned of his heroic work only when the movie Apollo 13 hit the silver screen late last year. Gene was played by actor Ed Harris, who in the movie looked amazingly the way that Gene did in 1970. Gene was the leader of the mission control team fighting against time, as first one and then another obstacle to the Apollo capsule's safe recovery was overcome. In real life his drive and determination as he led his team by persuasion, cajoling, pleading — and even threatening when necessary — resulted in solutions. Those solutions enabled the astronaut crew of James A. Lovell, Fred W. Haise Jr., and John L. Swigart Jr. to survive their perilous journey. All who were present during those sessions will tell you that nobody worked harder than Gene. He never demanded more from his crew than he himself was willing to do. Apollo 13 has finally brought home to the American public the recognition that this man deserves.

Gene started his aviation and space career in 1954. Armed with a degree in aeronautical engineering from Parks College, he joined the Air Force and flew jet fighters, including the F-80, F-86, and F-100. After a year as a flight test engineer, he joined NASA in 1960 and commenced his career in mission operations. He was a lead flight director during the Apollo era and ultimately became the director of mission operations. As NASA retirement approached in 1994, Gene volunteered as the flight engineer on the Lone Star Flight Museum's B-17 and reacquainted himself with light aircraft by flying Cessnas in the local area. He is planning to check out in a Citabria to bring his tailwheel proficiency up to speed prior to the first flight in his Murphy.

Gene tackled the job of building an aircraft with his typical NASA planning and thoroughness. He first tore out the interior of his garage and completely redid it, with each nook and cranny designed to store specific parts from the Murphy fast-build kit. He designed two workbenches, using PVC pipe for support, with adjustable couplings to maintain an absolutely level position continually. A point of pride for Gene is the fact that his wings came out well within the required tolerance for straightness and twist. A final modification to his garage was the installation of a window air conditioner to make it bearable in the Houston summers.

Before starting construction he used the dimensions of the Renegade obtained from Murphy to build a complete fuselage mockup. This was done to ensure that he could build the aircraft in his garage. The mockup concept is right out of the NASA mold for building and designing spacecraft. He used it well. On a recent visit to the Lone Star Flight Museum, I spotted a cockpit mockup sitting beneath the wing of an SBD under restoration and knew that it had to be his.

I visited with Gene in early March in his suburban Houston home and looked over his handiwork. On that day he was busy painting the insignia stars on the upper wings. The radio was playing patriotic marching music in the background, as much a Gene Kranz trademark as the patriotic vests he wore in mission control during each mission that he directed. When he was the director of mission operations, Gene often started off his morning teleconference with a rousing John Philip Sousa march.

Gene's pride in his work was evident as he showed me the detailed notes that he'd logged in his engineering notebook. He'd chronicled every facet of the construction and pointed with pride to the measurements he'd taken to confirm that the center of gravity and rigging alignment were right on the money.

The paint scheme and N number show a sentimental side of Gene that those of us who had the privilege of working with him seldom saw. He selected 427EK for his registration number. The EK was pretty obvious, but I questioned the 427. That was the month and day in 1954 that he married Marta, his wife of 39 years. It was also the date on which she pinned his silver Air Force wings on his proud chest. Gene selected his color scheme from the Grumman F3F that resides at the Lone Star Flight Museum. The white stripe in the red band around the fuselage represents his flight control team. White was his team color. A plaque now proudly hangs on the wall of Mission Control indicating that the color white is formally retired from the active ranks of the flight control team colors.

If you are ever in the Houston area and see a neat little biplane gliding along, painted in an early Navy F3F paint scheme, wave a salute and give a hearty "God speed, Gene Kranz." This American hero has earned our respect.

A few weeks before his death on March 22, former astronaut and AOPA Pilot columnist Bob Overmyer wrote this profile of Gene Kranz — Ed.