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In crafting this fine memoir, Hickam admits to "a certain author's license." Yet parts of the book are a little too fine. Hickam's descriptions are striking, but much of his dialogue reads as if borrowed from The Waltons. The coming-of-age saga also suffers from too many school dances and lost loves. Yet the main narrative, as inspiring as any to come out of the space age, rings like a nine-pound hammer on coal.
Ultimately, Rocket Boys is about much more than rockets. As Hickam states, "Until I began to build and launch rockets, I didn't know my hometown was at war with itself over its children and that my parents were locked in a kind of bloodless combat over how my brother and I would live our lives. I didn't know that if a girl broke your heart, another girl, virtuous at least in spirit, could mend it on the same night. And I didn't know that the enthalpy decrease in a converging passage could be transformed into jet kinetic energy if a divergent passage was added. The other boys discovered their own truths when we built our rockets, but those were mine."
A few decades after rockets flew over Coalwood, the town's mine was closed. But by then Homer H. Hickam, Jr., was a NASA engineer. His memoir honoring both earthbound miners and their sons who gazed into space is required reading for understanding the American Dream.
Reviewer Bruce Watson is a writer based in Leverett, Massachusetts.
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