Fred Haise
The Cool Hand on a Freezing Fever
Numbers don't lie, even when your body does.
I was supposed to walk on the moon. Now I'm floating back to Earth in a freezing tin can, kidney infection and all. I do the math. I speak soft and keep my head clear, because someone's got to translate panic into precision. Lovell carries command, Swigert fights systems, and I? I keep the numbers alive. That’s how we survive.
What I'm Into: carbon dioxide scrubbers, cold-amperage curves, lunar trajectories, Mississippi sunrises, surviving the impossible
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