An American hero, above and beyond John Glenn, first US astronaut to
orbit the planet, dies at 95 . By David Shribman Globe Correspondent .
John Herschel Glenn Jr. - twice an astronaut, four times elected to the
Senate, once a presidential candidate, 149 missions as a combat pilot,
and forever an American symbol and hero - died Thursday in Columbus,
Ohio. He was 95. Mr. Glenn was a test pilot, a Mercury astronaut, an
advocate of moderation in the Senate and in the Democratic Party, a
prescient voice of warning against nuclear proliferation, a space
shuttle payload specialist, and a symbol of the vigor that Americans -
whether as youthful dreamers or active seniors - brought to the 20th
century. "The last of America's first astronauts has left us, but
propelled by their example we know that our future here on Earth
compels us to keep reaching for the heavens. On behalf of a grateful
nation, Godspeed, John Glenn," President Obama said Thursday. Mr.
Glenn's death was announced by Ohio Governor John Kasich, who called
him "Ohio's ultimate hometown hero. Though a cause of death was not
announced, Mr. Glenn had heart-valve replacement surgery in 2014 and a
stroke around that time. Mr. Glenn was the last of the fabled Mercury
Seven astronauts. "Today our nation bids farewell to one of the most
iconic figures of the 20th century," said Senate majority leader Mitch
McConnell, Republican of Kentucky. In 1962, Mr. Glenn became the first
American to orbit the Earth and then, 36 years later, at age 77, he
became the oldest person to fly in space. He earned a parade in Lower
Manhattan in 1962 that left 3.5 million tons of ticker tape on the
street; in 1998, he earned a reprise, filling New York with
well-wishers after his successful nine-day trip on Discovery. Few
Americans of his or any generation remained at the center of American
life for so long, personifying his time and the American character for
all time. He explored the new frontier of space for a nation that
defined itself by the frontiers it pierced. He embodied the New
Frontier for a nation eager for challenge. He was exceptional because
he was in so many ways unexceptional - except for the 4 hours, 55
minutes of the flight of Friendship 7, which rallied an American space
program that had fallen dangerously far behind the Soviets and rallied
a nation that seemed stunned by the chill of the Cold War. His was, in
many ways, the classic American life. He grew up the son of a plumber
in New Concord, Ohio, in the center of the country, and though he
didn't marry the girl next door, he began a courtship, love affair, and
marriage with the girl just down Bloomfield Road, the former Anna
Margaret Castor, that spanned 73 years. He became arguably the least
colorful, least iconoclastic, least wild-eyed test pilot in history. He
was not especially articulate, especially visionary, or especially
interesting. Scores of reporters combed his childhood and adult years,
failing utterly in their desperate effort to uncover a single anecdote
of note. A Puritan among pugilists and a rector among reprobates, he
fought in America's wars of the mid-century, World War II and Korea,
and retained an elemental and abiding fascination for the very field of
aviation that had provided the only other American hero of his century
who rivaled Mr. Glenn, Charles Lindbergh. But while both men followed
the jet stream of celebrity into politics, Mr. Lindbergh veered off
into fringe and extreme corners of the political world while Mr. Glenn
steered steadily toward the center. His 1984 presidential campaign
ultimately failed, but Mr. Glenn remained true to his "sensible-center"
philosophy, a policy of prudence in fiscal affairs and vigilance in
foreign affairs that might have appealed to the broad range of
Americans who vote in a general election but did not appeal to the more
narrow ribbon of liberals who vote in Democratic primaries. Indeed, Mr.
Glenn's presidential campaign became a symbol of the candidate's own
symbolism. Americans wanted Mr. Glenn as a hero, but not as their
president. Along the campaign trail he met thousands of voters who
clamored for his autograph but who denied him their votes. In a
blustery lake town in frosty New Hampshire in February 1984, Mr. Glenn
encountered twins born the year he first went into space. One of the
young men was named John. The other was named Glenn. The name John
Glenn is seared into the nation's memory, and also onto its public
monuments, schools, streets, parks, and public buildings - so many that
Mr. Glenn's senatorial office eventually lost track, so many that Mr.
Glenn grew embarrassed as he visited the John Glenn Elementary School
or was told of the dedication of John Glenn Drive. Through all the
attention and celebrity, Mr. Glenn remained essentially unaltered: He
was an uncomplicated man in an increasingly complicated world. He
retained a sense of Oh, wow! in an increasingly sophisticated society.
He clutched ever more strongly to his family in an increasingly
atomized culture. He was driven by instinct, manners - and honor. All
that plus one thing more: a kind of patriotism that pointed to a
fast-disappearing past even for a man who was a symbol of a
fast-approaching future. Perhaps the most poignant moment of his
presidential campaign was witnessed by almost no one. One night late in
January 1984, Mr. Glenn appeared, amid the flags of Texas, Mexico, and
the United States, in an auditorium a few hundred yards from the border
in Brownsville, Texas. A mariachi band played "Amigo" and the "Beer
Barrel Polka. And before a local political leader introduced Mr. Glenn
to the Mexican-American audience, he led the crowd in the Pledge of
Allegiance. In a nearby holding room Mr. Glenn stood alone, at
attention, reciting the words out loud in an empty room. This
movie-screenplay life - actually, Mr. Glenn was a focus in the film
"The Right Stuff," which opened in 1983 - was not, however, a life
without strain and stress. He was humiliated at his early failures in
politics; he gained the Senate seat only after his third try. He was
embarrassed at his failure to erase his campaign debt from the 1984
campaign. He was haunted by his minor role in the Keating Five affair,
a savings-and-loan scandal that seemed to define the excesses of the
high-octane 1980s. (The Senate Ethics Committee ruled that the senator
had exercised poor judgment but that his activities did not reach the
level requiring institutional action against him.) But the difficulties
were more than outweighed by the triumphs. As a test pilot he set a
transcontinental speed record. As a senator, he forced the nation to
examine forbidding questions of defense procurement, campaign finance,
government reorganization, and the spread of nuclear weapons. As a
senior, he reminded older citizens of their ability to remain active,
vital, essential and even indispensable in American life. His flight
aboard Friendship 7 was one of the signature moments of the 1960s,
combining the idealism, sense of adventure, and Cold War tensions of
the John Kennedy years. Millions watched as Mr. Glenn was boosted into
space atop an Atlas rocket (to the famous invocation of fellow
astronaut Scott Carpenter, who bellowed "Godspeed, John Glenn") and as
he glided, almost effortlessly, in his 9-by-7-foot capsule through
three orbits of the Earth. Then trouble struck. An indicator light
suggested that the capsule's heat shield, which separated the astronaut
from the ferocious fire of Earth reentry, had shaken loose. NASA
officials huddled and shuddered. They finally suggested that Mr. Glenn
fire his retro rockets to begin his return to Earth but not to jettison
the rockets afterward. The thinking: The straps holding the retro
rockets would keep the heat shield in place. Following an agonizing
period when NASA controllers lost radio contact with their astronaut,
Mr. Glenn's capsule was found bobbing in the ocean, its human cargo
unhurt and, characteristically, undaunted. Mr. Glenn ached for a second
flight; despite his inarticulateness in orbit, the journey stirred deep
feelings in him, and a yearning for a return to space. President
Kennedy vetoed the idea; Mr. Glenn was too precious a piece of New
Frontier iconography to risk his death in space in a second mission.
But as private citizen and then as a lawmaker, Mr. Glenn pressed his
case, finally convincing NASA officials that the flight of a senior
citizen in space might provide insights into the aging process on
Earth. It was a stretch of science and of logic, but not of sentiment.
Mr. Glenn won his seat on the Discovery along with a crew of five other
men and a woman, one of whom wasn't even born when Mr. Glenn first
traveled into space. The preparations for the flight were transformed
into a festival of nostalgia, and many senators and President Clinton
were present at Cape Canaveral when he returned into space in late
October 1998. The differences between Mr. Glenn's first flight and his
last stood as milestones for how much the space program, and the
country, had changed in a third of a century. Mr. Glenn's Mercury
capsule weighed 4,256 pounds, while the Discovery weighted 153,819
pounds. Friendship 7 had one window, Discovery had 10. The original
Glenn spacecraft had 20 circuit breakers, Discovery had 961. Mr. Glenn
stowed 48 items in his capsule in 1962. His crew brought along 2,600 in
1998. But one thing had not changed: John H. Glenn Jr. In a wheelchair
at Cape Canaveral the morning of that second launch was his Korean War
wingman, a shrunken residue of a wild specimen whom Annie Glenn
remembered as the most profane man she ever met. We remember him as the
greatest hitter who ever lived: Ted Williams. Aboard that Discovery
flight, Glenn said, "To look out at this kind of creation out here and
not believe in God is to me impossible. Mr. Glenn's first flight and
his last were both great American adventures. His first flight and his
last were moments of technology, vision - and courage. His first flight
and his last were billed as tests of the human body. In reality they
both were - as Mr. Glenn's entire life was - a tribute to the human
spirit. Material from the Associated Press was used in this report.
