Father’s Day is good time to discover great part of your past

Father’s Day is tomorrow. Do you know your dad’s favorite job assignment?

I didn’t.

To my embarrassment, I learned the details of my dad’s work history only after he wrote a narrative, at the request of a former co-worker, and asked me to type it.

While I typed, I learned so much more about my father. A pattern developed. Repeatedly, he said he liked this assignment or that because “I was not tied to a desk.” (I’m my father’s kid. That’s one of the draws of journalism.)

Jim Morrison, the Boeing engineer, not the Doors singer, didn’t talk about his job much, not with his wife, LaVerne, or his only child. That was his personality. I had no clue what he did day to day, but throughout his nearly 36-year career with Boeing, he was challenged and satisfied by various jobs that bounced our family between Florida, Washington and Louisiana. He never considered his work drudgery.

A U.S. Naval Academy graduate, class of 1952, his claim to fame was he was on the same cutter crew as Jim Lovell, who went on to a primo job himself — commander of Apollo 13.

After graduation, he worked for the Army Corps of Engineers on the ground refueling system for Strategic Air Command bombers.

He joined Boeing in 1957 as a test engineer working at Cape Canaveral, Fla., on the BOMARC surface-to-air missile program. Over the years, he also worked on the Minuteman missile in Seattle, NASA’s Saturn/Apollo program in New Orleans and the SST (supersonic transport) back in Seattle.

After typing the first draft, I asked what his favorite job had been.

He answered: launch pad coordinator for BOMARC missiles.

I didn’t know he’d been a launch pad coordinator, or what that was. I learned he was the launch pad coordinator for the first Boeing BOMARC solid-fuel missile to be launched from Santa Rosa Island near Eglin Air Force Base, Fla., on April 13, 1960.

“As the launch pad coordinator, I was the last person, along with my lead mechanic, to leave the pad. Also, if we had a misfire, we were the first to go back to the pad to ensure the missile would not inadvertently launch. There were times when that walk could be a lonely one. The rest of the launch crew stayed inside while the ‘fearless duo’ approached a potentially live missile,” he wrote.

“Also, the lead mechanic and I were the only ones on the launch pad during the installation of missile ordnance known as the destruct package. The purpose of the destruct package was to destroy the BOMARC if it got out of control. I remember one launch where it had to be destroyed since it was heading for Tampa, Fla. Not a good day.”

Typical of my dad. A straightforward summary of the facts.

In 1969, when the aerospace industry was struggling, my dad left test engineering and became a safety administrator for the Boeing 747 flight line at the plant in Everett, Wash., — another job he liked.

I knew about one interesting safety assignment — his New York to Tokyo flights over 10 days in 1976 to discover why attendants on long flights were having chest cramps on 747SPs. My dad, the problem-solver, had a role in finding a fix for future flight attendants. I never knew that charcoal filters were the solution for the discomfort caused by ozone. I never asked.

My dad and others say they wished they’d asked their fathers from the World War II generation about their war experiences when their fathers were still alive.

Father’s Day wouldn’t be a bad day to ask about your father’s job.

Don’t wait until it’s too late. Instead of memories, all you’ll have is regrets.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0275. She also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/morrison.