Orson Porter

Okay so I’ve croaked. No biggie. By the time you read this my body will have been consigned to the flames and is now part of the pollution choking the valley.

I fell to Earth on 15 September 1935, my destination a hardscrabble ranch near Otto in a Wyoming county called Big Horn. My education in the Casper public school system was good enough for the Navy where I eventually became a first-class petty officer in a patrol squadron flying the P2V Neptune.

While logging more than 2,000 flight hours patrolling the coasts of the Pacific Northwest and the East China Sea and the Sea of Japan, I became a great radar operator and better radioman. My electronics background landed me a job with Boeing in Seattle where I worked on Bomarc and Minuteman missile systems and then moved to New Orleans where Boeing was building the S-IC.

A few years later I transferred to the Kennedy Space Center and became part of the NASA Saturn V launch team. Our most historic launch was Apollo 11, you may have watched on TV. Belching fire and thunder our big S1C sent that huge rocket and three brave men soaring toward the Moon. I became divorced just before Apollo ended and Boeing told me to hit the bricks.

Hard times until I found a job as captain of a 56-foot Chris-Craft yacht named Sea Boy II. While operating the boat out of Fort Lauderdale, I met a long-legged blond named Anna Maria, a cute refugee from Budapest who became my wife and the love of my life. After a short stint in Arkansas working at a small die-casting plant, I moved my family to Salt Lake City where we nearly starved until I established my own real estate brokerage and appraisal company.

It’s been a long ride in a cheap saddle. I had a really great mom and seven siblings and the youngest of my three sons gave me the cutest granddaughter in the world. During my life, I met a few great individuals, a lot of mostly well-meaning ducks, and too many crooks and con artists. While uncovering a few profound truths I had a lot of giggles debating with an assortment of religious zealots.

This one may be over but I’ll probably be back to repeat the second grade. I love the Lord’s beautiful Earth and all Her beings, I love being alive in God’s amazing universe, and if you want to do me a favor, tell homely girls they’re beautiful and take a kid fishing once in a while.

I am survived by my lovely wife, Anna Porter; my children, Rex Porter (Jennifer), Duke Porter, and Orson Porter (Marisa); and my granddaughter, Leah Porter.