In the summer of 1966 I lived at my grandparents’ dairy farm in Winfield, Kansas, along with my younger brother and one of my younger sisters–the youngest was only two years old, and she stayed with my parents in New Jersey, where my folks spent the summer packing and preparing to move the family to Lawrence, Kansas, where my father was to begin a three-year course of study to finish earning an engineering degree at the University of Kansas. The farm at Winfield was one of my favorite places on earth, and the idea of staying there all summer long was an easy sell for me. Both of my grandparents were alive and well, my uncle and two aunts, one of whom was only a year older than me, were there, along with one of my very best friends, Steve.
Steve was the son of my father’s best friend, Duane–they went to high school together in Winfield, and when I was born, Steve was just a year old. We didn’t live in Winfield–for most of my life until 1965, we lived in Ohio, and our trips to Winfield were limited to a two-week summer vacation, and sometimes a brief visit at Christmas, but I saw Steve during every visit, and we were fast friends, and the best of friends by the time I arrived on the farm in June 1966.
That summer Steve introduced me to the hobby of model rocketry. I had heard about model rocketry on a school trip for 6th graders in New Jersey–they took us to the junior high school near the end of the school year to give us a tour of the junior high building and to explain the concept of having different classes in different rooms, etc. One of the teachers told us about the junior high model rocket club, and I was hooked on it, but also sad because I knew by then that we were moving to Kansas.
Steve brought his catalog from Estes Industries, a manufacturer of rocket kits and parts and motors, and he actually had two copies of it, so he gave me one. Over the summer we went out to launch Steve’s rockets several times, and I was obsessed. All that summer I pored over the Estes catalog, preparing my first order of kits, engines, parts, etc., and planning how I was going to build a rocket launching system when I got home–if my dad gave me permission to take up the hobby. I had some reason to expect he might be concerned about safety, etc., but when he arrived to pick us up and take us to our new home in Lawrence, I convinced him to let me place my order.
My first Estes order was not more than about $6, and that included an entry-level kit (the Astron Scout), several motors, a launch rod (which I would need when I built my launch pad), some parts and materials, and a little rocketeer’s handbook with tons of information about how to make and fly rockets. Plus, because the order was over $5, I got a free kit–an Astron Gyroc, which used a unique recovery system to spin the rocket slowly back to the ground without the use of a parachute.
I practically memorized every page of that 1966 Estes catalog. By the middle of the fall, I had set up a little hobby work area in our new home, and I had planned out which kits I would purchase next, and I had enlisted my dad to help me build my launch pad and the electrical parts of the launch system.
There were new catalogs every year, and I continued with the hobby throughout my junior high years, and maybe a little bit into high school. I kept all of my rocket stuff even through college, but eventually set the hobby aside when I got my first guitar, and all of my spare time and money was diverted to music.
But that catalog survived to this day, some 58 years later. I’ve revived my interest in model rocketry twice–when my children were old enough, I helped them build and fly rockets, and again, now that my grandchildren are old enough, I’m helping them build and fly rockets. It still thrills me a little each time I press the “launch” button. And in my file cabinet, there is a folder labeled “Rocket Stuff” that still holds that 1966 Estes catalog.
In the early 1990s, when I was in Colorado with my band playing a summer camp gig in the mountains, I took a couple of my bandmates with me to Penrose, Colorado, to visit the Estes factory, and to obtain a replacement for a rocket kit that my daughter had built–she had followed the instructions to the letter, and on its first flight, it totally self-destructed. The Estes folks were kind enough to give me a replacement kit.
I probably received a new Estes catalog each year for at least a decade, but the 1966 edition is the only one I saved. I still love to pull it out and page through it when I’m in the mood for some good memories.
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(Posted in response to 1/10/2024 prompt)
doug heacock: words 