Countdown: An Autobiography [Hardcover]

So why, with every page, does the reader feel like he is moving inexorably toward a train wreck? Perhaps because Borman's candor compels him to chronicle the downside of his single-minded determination and doggedness. It is hard to say if the author intended to give us this psychological two-edged sword, or whether it is simply the fruit of honesty. In either case the clues are there: with every career choice, with every renewed commitment to NASA, Borman etched his name on the honor roll of American space heroes. And, in the process, insulated himself from family and society, with painful consequences.

Borman's personal world begins to unravel, ironically, at the time of his greatest triumph, the Apollo 8 mission to the moon. His wife Susan, already stretched thin by years as a dutiful military wife in the spotlight and totally unnerved by the Apollo 1 fire, drifted into the murky world of alcoholism. Borman admits that, totally absorbed as he was with the Apollo Program, he was completely out of touch with her drinking, relieved that at least his wife was not using prescription tranquilizers, then in vogue among astronaut wives. [Andrew Chaikin's "A Man on the Moon" describes Susan Borman's problems during Apollo 8 in much greater detail than Borman could bring himself to describe.]

Sadly unaware of the unfolding tragedy at home, Borman retired from the Air Force and proceeded to make the grand-daddy of all bad career choices, particularly considering the choices at hand. It is not clear from the text whether the author truly understood the complexities of Eastern Airlines' financial difficulties, or the character of the people he would need to do business with. Borman does concede that he knew next to nothing about unions, which would be his undoing at Eastern along with deregulation and a sagging economy. Despite his earnestness and hard work-and no one worked harder-the book ends at February 23, 1986, the night of the Eastern bankruptcy, a broken ex-astronaut crying in his wife's arms.

It is a troubling ending. It is also a reflection of the conundrum of the race to the moon. The United States would never have overtaken the Russians in the space race without men like Borman who sacrificed everything for the goal of national success. But this work reveals another side of the space race: how the race to the moon collected men like Borman, took those assets of steely self-determination, and turned them against the astronauts themselves. This is a cost of the Apollo Program that is rarely discussed, and we, like the dazed author at the end of the book, have to decide for ourselves if the cost was worth it.

This philosophical twist, perhaps unexpectedly, is the author's biggest contribution to space literature. Borman's account of his missions reveals little new material, and he remains too private a man to titillate the reader with his uncensored thoughts about, say, Jim Lovell, with whom he spent an eternity in the closest of quarters. As a narrative of the race to the moon, this is a superficial work from one so intimately connected to the space program. But my guess is that Borman's real interest in writing his autobiography was less about space hardware and more about figuring out just what the hell happened to him.

Like Frank Borman, I am an engineer myself (I grew up on NASA's back gate) and I really enjoyed his "tell it like it is" and get "back to basics approach" at Eastern. When Borman became President of Eastern in 1975, he got rid of the private jets, the fancy cars, the plush office furniture, and said "get to work." He also streamlined the middle-management and got rid of the "deadwood" and implemented a lot more "common sense." He thought Eastern buying SST's would be ludricrous on the Miami to New York route (because they would have to begin descent too soon), got rid of planes that were fuel inefficient (especially after looking at maintenance logs and finding that repairs were costing three times of what new planes were), and I don't know of any corporate president that had enough class to negiotiate leasing four Airbus aircraft at no cost. Leasing Airbuses was an awesome and risky move that paid off. Several airlines today use Airbus (Northwest, USAir, United) and Borman helped pave the way for America to buy these. Being a pilot and an engineer, Borman would even fly some of these planes himself. These are three examples of why engineers today are needed in higher management positions.

Borman also made the people of Eastern unite after he became President. He would visit them at airports and fly on planes with them, looking at "lets all work together and accomplish the mission. We have to earn our wings every day." Borman was always honest with his fellow employees about what was going on (no bulls--- )and followed through with "Duty, Honor, Country". Eastern Airlines profited more from 1976 to 1980 under Borman's leadership. What killed Eastern in my opininion was Airline Deregulation and the unions fighting against Eastern, primarily the IAM. Borman tells much of this story.

One thing that threw me off as I read this was how many airlines were in business when I was a kid that aren't there anymore (Braniff, Piedmont, Pan Am, People's Express, Air Florida, etc.) I know Braniff was an example of executives taking care of their own interests (fancy cars, meals, penthouse office suites,etc.) Frank Borman always had his head and his heart in the right place -EASTERN. I learned a great deal from Countdown-we need more executive officers like Frank Borman.