ARTHUR C. CLARKE (who died Sir Arthur, after receiving a well-deserved knighthood) was a casual but long-term friend. He often had dinner at the Greenhouse when visiting the Kennedy Space Center. (He also attended the Apollo 11 prelaunch party at the Greenhouse, a tale told elsewhere.) A large briefing room at the KSC Visitors Center had been named “Room 2001” in his honor, and the NASA branch stationed there dubbed their conference room “2010”. Just before I retired I persuaded the manager of the Astronauts Memorial Foundation, also at the Visitors Center, to name their major presentation area “Room 2061”, to complete the trilogy. (I don’t know if he followed through.)

Working behind the scenes, I usually managed to get myself assigned as Clarke’s official escort. The last time he came (August 1994) before I retired in 1996, he had some difficulty walking, and needed a wheelchair for long distances. He managed the short walks in and out of buildings by holding on to my shoulder.

Clarke was at KSC this time primarily to attend a press conference, in his capacity as a member of the Diane Fossey Gorilla Fund Board of Trustees. The NASA connection with Fossey was the Space Radar Laboratory-1, which had flown in the cargo bay of a Shuttle Orbiter the previous April, obtainiing some excellent multi-use data on gorilla habitats. But as with most distinguished guests, his itinerary included visits to several sites of major interest.

Over the course of most of a day, while being driven from site to site (KSC is very big, and spread out), we had several chances to chat. The subject of the then-extant SF mags came up. Clarke told me he faithfully subscribed to ALL of them—but they just went directly on to his library shelves. He didn’t actually read them; couldn’t find the time.

The press conference came at the end of the day, when Clarke was visibly tiring. The local press turned out in force, probably 30 or more; an unusually high number for anything less than a launch. I escorted Clarke to the table on the dais, which he shared with some other people associated with the Gorilla Fund, and took a seat in front.

The press conference itself was fairly routine, except that the press concentrated their attention on Clarke and almost ignored the others. He perked up a little while sitting and answering questions. At the end of the standard 30-minute conference I stood up and announced that we would take two more questions, and then had to go.

The two questions came, the conference officially ended—and then half or more of the reporters present hurriedly dug into their rucksacks or tote bags, pulled out copies of Arthur C. Clarke books, and rushed the table for autographs!

Press people, by and large, are a skeptical lot. This uncoordinated, spontaneous rush to get their books autographed while they had the chance warmed the intake valves of this cynical old heart. Clarke, although a little startled, seemed happy to comply. So I sat back down, and for another ten or twelve minutes, Clarke autographed books. Then, finally, I could get him out of the building and into our waiting limousine.

I had already escorted Arthur to see several people and places, including a meeting with the highest local dignitaries in the KSC Center Director’s office. But it was that demonstration of genuine, unforced admiration on the part of the press corps that I most like to remember.

Image credit: Courtesy of Joseph Green