"He's back," exulted the Miami News when John Glenn emerged from Friendship 7 after orbiting the Earth three times.
America, the Miami Herald implied, was back, as well. The Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung agreed: The free world need "no longer stare as if hypnotized at Soviet space successes with pricks of doubt in their hearts as to whether there is not some deep deficiency in the democratic order."
In "Mercury Rising," Jeff Shesol, a former speechwriter for President Bill Clinton and author of "Supreme Power: Franklin Roosevelt vs. the Supreme Court," provides a splendid account of Glenn's mission. Shesol sets America's space program in the context of the Cold War. Drawing on interviews and Glenn's personal notes, he includes a fascinating portrait of the astronaut who became a national icon.
President Dwight Eisenhower, Shesol reveals, believed that a manned space program was not all that important, either scientifically or militarily. Shortly before he left office, Eisenhower declared, "he couldn't care less whether a man ever reached the moon" and was not going "to hock the family jewels" to fund it.
John Kennedy tended to agree. But when Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin orbited the Earth in April 1961, space took center stage. As the Cold War heated up — over the Bay of Pigs fiasco, Russia's nuclear tests and construction of a Berlin Wall — the young president concluded that to be second in space was to be second in the existential struggle between communism and freedom.
In May 1961, Kennedy declared that the nation should commit itself to landing a man on the moon by the end of the decade.
Glenn's flight on Feb. 20, 1962, was a giant step in restoring America's preeminence in space. Glenn, Shesol demonstrates, was the man for this moment. A Korean War Marine fighter pilot, he had a 1950s sensibility: He believed in God, country and fidelity to his marriage vows. Charming and articulate, Glenn was an ideal spokesman for NASA.
Glenn's outsized ambition, Shesol suggests, was less visible to most Americans. Professional colleagues branded him a "sniveler," who got what he wanted even if he "wasn't slated to get it." To "sit back and let fate play its hand out and never try to influence at all," Glenn agreed, "is not the way man was made to operate."