Magnificent Desolation_ The Long Journey Home From the Moon - Buzz Aldrin [57]
I stayed with Joan and the kids for five days before heading to New Jersey to visit my father. Dad and I talked for two days, and although we didn’t always see eye to eye, at least we were communicating. When I told him that I intended to retire from the Air Force, he disagreed adamantly, suggesting that I stay in the service until I became a general. I said no way.
“Well, what are you going to do when you retire?” he asked. “You have three children to put through college, you know. How are you going to make a living?”
“I’m going into business for myself,” I heard myself saying, although I had no idea how I was going to bring those words to fruition. “Surely I have some knowledge and experience that will be valuable to somebody, maybe an aerospace company. I have some other ideas in mind— and I might even write a book.”
My father remained unimpressed.
The following day, my sisters arrived, Madeline from Philadelphia and Fay Ann from Cincinnati. I took a deep breath, and in a rush I informed them that I was leaving the Air Force, divorcing Joan, and planning to remarry as soon as possible. My father and sisters stared at me in sadness and disbelief. Then, almost as if the dam of emotions had suddenly burst, they began imploring me to wait. “Be certain, Buzz, that you are healthy before you make such difficult decisions.” But I did not intend to be deterred, and the more my loved ones insisted I wait, the louder and more indignant I grew. I retired to my room that night, convinced that I was finally in control of my own destiny.
My sisters and father, however, were so upset that when I awakened in the morning, my sisters had already departed, and my father had, too, leaving behind a note telling me to have a good time and be careful in New York. Basically he was saying, “Have a nice life.”
As fast as I could pack my belongings, I was on my way to New York to see Marianne. Or so I thought. When I arrived at her apartment, Marianne refused to see me. Her other suitor had asked for her hand in marriage, and they were already planning a February wedding. I headed back to San Antonio, my spirit crushed.
At the end of another week, Dr. Sparks somewhat reluctantly agreed that I could return to Edwards and go back to work. I had been at Wilford Hall a total of four weeks, plus my ten-day leave. My prognosis, however, was not certain. “You may never have another depression,” Dr. Sparks said. “Then again, you might, and you may need some form of treatment. There’s no way to be sure what will happen. All I can tell you is to avoid any buildup of conflict in your life as much as possible.”
From my perspective, I was convinced that I was well, that I had beaten the downward spiral of depression. Little did I realize that its relative—the decimating demon of alcoholism—was lurking in the shadows.
7
DUTY and
DILEMMA
I RETURNED TO MY RESPONSIBILITIES AT THE EDWARDS USAF Test Pilot School with new vigor and was happy to discover that many people did not even realize that I had been gone so long. That was in large part due to the outstanding management skills of Ted Twinting, my deputy officer. I had communicated with Ted by phone almost daily once I got into my medical routines at the hospital, and Ted kept the school right on schedule.
General Bob White, my commanding officer, welcomed me back somewhat uneasily. Known for being possessive of the lion’s share of attention, Bob was a handsome, dapper officer, a renowned test pilot in his own right, who had earned his astronaut wings flying the X-15 on suborbital flights, as Chuck Yeager and Neil Armstrong