Home of the North American Eagle - World Land Speed Challenger

Vicki Burton Knepper, daughter of Gene Burton, flight test supervisor at North American Aviation (NAA) & Edwards AFB from the 50's - late 60's, has graciously given permission to post a portion of his memoirs here on our site.

This document in its entirety provides a window into the past during the "right stuff" era of the early space program.

For those of us who were alive, even as children, during this period, it is amazing to read. This all occurred at a time when calculations were done with a slide rule; the calculator didn't exist. It's guaranteed to be interesting reading. Response are already coming in from our readers:

"Please post the next part to Memoirs soon. Wow!"

Kevin

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Jon, Jon, Jon….. those first two are such a tease! I want more!!!

Thanks for taking the time to transcribe them to the website. It’s awesome to hear the view of someone that was “there when it happened” as opposed to media/lore.

Cheers,
Mark

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burtons
Mr. & Mrs. Gene E. Burton

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Introduction

This is not a story. At best, it is a recollection of fragmented - and often unrelated - experiences that seem to be important to me, now that I am . . . . old. I'm sure that other important things that happened in my life might be considered more important by others, but my memory of those events has become dim and uncertain . . . . so, I write about my rememberances - things I can recall with enough clarity to be somewhat certain that they really happened the way that they are recorded in my failing memory. I must apologize up front for the fact that some details - especially dates and names - simply escape me, and I just don't have the inclination to research the matter in greater depth. Frankly, precision with respect to dates, names, etc. probably holds no import for the reader, anyway; although I wish, for my own self-respect, that I could recall those facts with greater certainty. With regret, I will not try to recapture such beautiful moments as the births of our children and other such joyful family occasions, because I could never do them justice. I simply don't have the verbal skills to describe such events, so I leave that opportunity to my beloved Phyllis.

For me, the most difficult part of this endeavor has been to find reasons that justify, in my own mind, why I trouble to commit this material to writing. First of all, I'm afraid that I will continue to forget things until I have no recollection of who I am. That is, I record these events so that I can relive them for my own satisfaction. A second reason for these rememberences is a lifelong feeling of rootlessness. I have almost no knowledge of my own heritage, and that has eaten at me all my life and is probably responsible for the feelings of inadequacies that have always haunted me. For example, my grandfathers both died before I was born, and no one could ever talk to me about them, as though I would be better off not knowing.

Another reason for writing this is an attempt to provide my children with something of me that I may not have given them when they were young. I was a "breadwinner" - a man from a generation that placed the responsibility of providing the material needs of life on the father, leaving the nurturing and caring to the mother. Most of you have found how difficult it is to "provide" for your families, even with both spouses. Please try to remember that, when my children were growing up, their mother was - in accordance with our "old fashioned" values - at home for them, while I did my best to provide for them. When I missed a school choir performance, I was earning four hours of overtime that meant the new coat one of them needed for the coming winter. When I wasn't home on weekends to share family activities, that overtime went to pay orthodontist bills. I'm not trying to apologize for not being there for them - I simply acknowledge that my generations's definition of the father's role cheated me out of that opportunity. If, as a result, some of you were never able to get to know me, just as I never got to know my own heritage, perhaps these rememberances will help fill that void . . . . oh, how I wish I could read about the experiences and thoughts of those that brought me into this world.

Lastly, I write this because some of you have asked me to, and my ego is still too strong to say no to those requests.

genesig

Read the full PDF document here.

The excerpt above is posted with permission from Vicki Burton Knepper, daughter of Gene E. Burton.

or, Go to part 2.

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