Lily Koppel

In The Astronaut Wives Club, Lily Koppel details the pressures that the wives of NASA’s astronauts faced from being suddenly thrust into the limelight, with vague expectations of how they should act in order to support NASA’s public relations goals while also receiving minimal support for themselves. The constant attention took its strain while the wives were worrying over their husbands’ being away and subject to increased attention from single women. Koppel writes, “The wives show more thought it was just awful. Louise was in total denial, lost in her own world and glued to her great consolation and time-passer, needlepoint. She would sit for hours sewing light yellow into the depths of brown, giving shape to florals, flame stitches, even abstract designs. She never stuck the wrong color in the wrong square, and rarely seemed to miss a hole. Neither did Alan.” (p. 49) NASA allowed an exclusive deal with Life magazine that provided for the astronauts financially while also aiding in their public relations goals. Loudon Wainwright of Life magazine ghost wrote the wives’ stories and worked to create the polished image of the astronaut wives, concealing Annie Glen’s stutter and trying to change Betty Grissom’s down-to-earth persona into something the magazine considered more glamorous (p. 62). The sudden glare of the press’ attention led the wives to develop a practice routine called Primly Stable, in which they pretended to be the perfect wives answering inane questions from the press all while bonding during the self-deprecating skit (p. 72-73).

The wives felt a slight easing of tension when JFK addressed the UN on 20 September 1963, suggesting a joint U.S.-U.S.S.R. mission to the Moon, thereby taking some of the pressure off the American astronauts and NASA to figure the technology and missions out on their own. Unfortunately, following Kennedy’s assassination two months later, President Johnson showed no interest in such a joint mission (p. 119-120). Instead, NASA accelerated its program in order to achieve Kennedy’s goal of landing on the Moon before the decade’s end. This rush increased risk. The wives demanded accountability from NASA after the first astronaut death, in which Ted Freeman died when a goose collided with his T-38, causing a crash. The first person to inform Faith Freeman that she was now a widow was a reporter from the Houston Chronicle who showed up on her doorstop seeking a comment. This first death rocked the astronaut community, but also pushed the agency for a protocol to notify the wives and insulate them from the press until they were notified (p. 132-133).

Koppel contrasts the Astronaut Wives Club with the rising tide of Second Wave Feminism. She writes, “In the summer of 1966, the National Organization for Women (NOW) was formed, just around the time of the first official meeting of the Astronaut Wives Club. The intent of the latter was, however, quite different from NOW” as the A.W.C. helped coordinate the social lives of the wives while also serving as a crash program for newcomers in what NASA expected of them from a public relations perspective (p. 156). Koppel writes, “If someone had asked Marge (or any of the Astrowives, for that matter) what her relationship to the nascent feminist movement was, she'd probably laugh, thinking she had nothing to do with it. But in her own way, she did. Marge was trying to create a haven for women in a world of men. The Astronaut Wives Club was the closest thing the space burbs had to a NOW chapter.” (p. 181) Continuing to examine the pressures the wives faced, Koppel writes, “The taboo subjects of depression and alcoholism, T-38 crashes and fatal fires, were strenuously avoided. So was pretty much anything that had to do with their husbands’ competition and extramarital activities. And the Cape Cookies, who represented a much-loathed rival group to the astronaut wives” (p. 172). In addition to facing expectations about their public statements and actions, the wives found signs at the local workout club promoting diets to pressure the wives into fitting a certain physical image (p. 184). According to Koppel, “Living in Togethersville, happily trapped in the fifties, the wives might have been on birth control pills, but they were still buying the clean-cut, all-American image one hundred percent. Barbara and Gene Cernan had actually walked out of the prime seats they'd been given to the free love rock musical Hair, which had just opened on Broadway, because it featured nudity and sex. They thought it was un-American. The wives didn't even seem to know that America was in total upheaval – students had taken over Columbia University, the militant Black Panthers had hijacked the civil rights movement, and radical feminists had emerged from the women's liberation movement.” (p. 203)

Even at their moment of triumph following Apollo 11, the wives found themselves confronted with a changed world. Protesters decried the cost of space exploration and a decadent ball celebrating the Moon landing amid rising awareness of domestic inequality coupled with the war in Vietnam (p. 234). The astronauts themselves began to change. Ed Mitchell, of Apollo 14, got interested in the consciousness-expanding, meditation-embracing, and far out ESP ideas of the 1960s, which embarrassed NASA when it came out that he tried using ESP to communicate with people on Earth during Apollo 14’s return journey (p. 246). As the 1960s further intruded into Togethersville, Rusty Schweickart grew his hair out and encouraged his wife to embrace his New Age beliefs. No stranger to free spirits, Clare Schweickart studied African independence movements, discussed consciousness-raising literature, and promoted liberal causes, but she couldn’t shake the thought that Rusty had changed his appearance for someone else (p. 247).

Describing Barbara Cernan’s reaction to Gene’s Apollo 17 mission, Koppel writes, “The red, white, and blue excitement char had been following the astronauts since the Mercury days had ballooned to intolerable proportions. It was simply getting to be too much to handle, like the Secret Service men Barbara had to be accompanied by because of the Black September threat.” (p. 250). Something had to give. Donn Eisele was the first astronaut divorce. Amid his affair, he began dropping hints of his actions to his wife while gaslighting her whenever she questioned him about his activities. He accused his wife, Harriet, of being crazy. She said she’d see a psychiatrist, but he pointed out that that seeming indicator of domestic instability could cost him his job, thereby illustrating how trapped the wives were in the NASA bubble (p. 196). Though Donn was the first divorce, more followed with John Young, Gordo Cooper, Jack Lousma, and others (p. 252). Betty broke with NASA over Gus’s legacy, filing suit against North American Rockwell on 27 January 1971 seeking “$10 million for negligence in the building of Gus’s Apollo 1 spacecraft, breaking the code of silence among the space widows” (p. 254). Her fight continued over controlling Gus’s flight suit (p. 283).

Koppel’s book brilliantly chronicles a different side of the Space Race, countering many of the polished official narratives while deepening our understanding of the pressures and sacrifices the race to the Moon required. She encourages readers to think deeply about the work of women in crafting the image of NASA from the very beginning, often at great personal cost. A fantastic read for anyone interested in space history. show less

I have always loved and been drawn to journals, diaries and memoirs. The romance and charm of even how Lily found this diary was delightful. But yes, the time capsule it opened up was fascinating. If it had been me, I would have arranged to have the entire steamer trunk (maybe ALL of them, out there on that sidewalk, waiting for the dumpster), brought home with me, and I would have spent months going through each and every item, savouring every moment of treasure. But maybe that's just show more me!

Florence was the very definition of a brainy, artsy free spirit while, at the same time, rebelling and chafing against family and the constraints of the day, the same as every teenage girl across time, I am sure. That she could sail across the ocean alone and traipse around an increasingly tempestuous and dangerous Europe in 1934, and stay safe, even in her innocence, was remarkable to me. For sure, those were different times.

But what fascinated me almost as much as the diary itself, was the end, the last chapter, which brought us to the present, where Lily engages the help of a private investigator to help her locate Florence. And the meeting of the two, the kindred spirits, and the instantaneous bond they developed - I expected nothing less. I also enjoyed the final section, *About the Author*, an interview with Lily herself. I wish she had written more and hope she does. I read her second book, The Astronauts Wives several years ago, before I ever heard of this one. But I enjoyed The Red Leather Diary so much more. show less

Astronaut Wives Club: A True Story by Lily Koppel is a woman's take on the women involved in the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo space programs. Unfortunately, the only women involved in these ventures into space were the wives of the astronauts. In all, I found that the book was rather light weight. There had to be much going on in all these women's lives, and the book didn't go into any of these multifaceted personalities and their relationships with husbands, children, communities, the show more government, or NASA. All or any of these would have made a great book. Because the lives of the astronauts were so closely controlled by NASA the lives of their families and their wives was as well. It was apparent that the contracts with NASA allowing the press unlimited access to these families was a grave interruption and imposition into the lives of these women. How they coped with it was the main focus of the book, but I thought the author let the government and NASA off lightly. There was no bad word in the book about the way NASA treated these women or about the outlandish requirements that they made of them. I would call this a good basic women's history of this part of the space program, but if you want to know what really went on this might not be the book for you. show less

In theory, Astronaut Wives Club is the kind of book I should love: it’s about a topic I find fascinating (space exploration), centers the unsung/unexplored experiences of women, and happens to be a true story. Unfortunately, I walked away thinking this would have been a great magazine article, but, at least as Lily Koppel wrote it, it made a lousy book. This book wants to focus on a wide group of women, and sacrifices pretty much all of its depth to do it. Just when the book would touch on show more a substantive topic like the toll the missions and public attention took on the wives, it flitted off again to focus on dresses and parties and parades. Don’t get me wrong, I love a pretty party dress as much as the next girl, but that’s not what I picked this book up for. I hope that some author in the future revisits this topic, focusing on 2 or 3 of the wives in a greater detail and recording the psychological and physical toll space exploration took on these women. It would do their contributions to our space program justice in a way this book simply did not. show less