I am always amazed by the wonderful people that Melvin Bain gathers. Thank you for coming.
I want to start a conversation about the book of Melvin. The book started in Fayetteville, Arkansas. He was one of five kids born to Melvin and Rubye. Brother Harold and baby sister Mary are here with us today. I encourage you to collect stories of the first chapter of Melvin from them. He was called Junior during this period.
The next chapter starts with Melvin signing up for the U.S. Navy. World War II was on and he volunteered. He was assigned to ship called the Acushnet. Something happened to the ship’s cook in Cuba and the Acushnet needed a cook. Apparently volunteering was alphabetical, so Bain was first in line for the job. With a little swagger and bravado common to 18 year olds, Melvin let it be known that he did not sign up in a war to be a cook. The captain arranged a formative lesson, sending Melvin to his bunk to study a copy of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, revoked his shore privileges for a year and encouraged Melvin to rethink his position. In trademark Melvin style, he decided to make the best of the situation. He turned out to be good at it. I think he enjoyed the challenge and was appreciated for it by his crew.
After the Navy, he signed on with Nance Exploration doing what was called at the time ‘doodle bugging.’ It was using seismic mapping to look for oil. Always loving the challenge, Melvin worked his way up to Shooter – the guy who handled, and exploded, the dynamite. You should hear those stories. For our part, Ken and I loved being the only kids on the block with dynamite boxes in our attic. During this job, the crew burned up an engine in one of their trucks and Melvin went in the Ford dealership to buy another. Lura Glynn Mercer working there caught his eye – or he her’s – and they married. Melvin was called Curly during this period. The marriage lasted 65 years until Glynn’s passing in 2012.
Melvin and Glynn moved to Victoria to start their careers and life together. She worked at the airbase and he at Alcoa in Point Comfort. DuPont decided to build a new plant in Victoria and Melvin won a position as mechanic. He spent 35 years their working up to Instrument and Electrical Superintendent, which was about the highest a person without a college degree could go. He was always modest about his job and career, but it was remarkable.
DuPont made nylon. Making nylon requires adipic acid, so DuPont made adipic acid. But the thing was, these adipic acid plants kept blowing up – as in explosions. They generally knew where the explosion started and had ideas about why. Knowing how to prevent it was the challenge. Melvin put his mind to it and invented a way to solve the problem. And he did! His invention was implemented immediately in all the DuPont plants. Of course, you never heard of it, but you no longer heard of plants blowing up for that reason either.
He enjoyed a little, quiet celebrity within DuPont for his teachings of electrical safety. He received several calls saying so-and-so lived after the accident and the steps taken according to the training Melvin delivered.
This was the period that Melvin and Glynn made a home, started a family and along came Don and brother Ken.
Best. Dad. Ever!
For just a moment, let me tell Melvin’s story in a different way. If you have the privilege of touring NASA’s Mission Control Center you will see a plaque on the wall for the most valuable team member for each flight. These are like the Heisman Trophy for space flight. Two of those flight plaques have brother Ken’s name on them. Mind you, no one else has 2 plaques. He is a genuine rocket scientist hero. But rewind a few decades and you would find a boy with a loving and supportive Dad. Melvin was the kind of Dad who would bring radio and electronic equipment and experiments into the house to let Ken go wild with them. And when we had sparks, blue smoke, neighborhood brown-outs and the occasional bang produced by Ken’s explorations, Melvin could not have been more proud. Some of you may have wondered why our Mom had prematurely white hair.
Melvin was like that with both of us. He encouraged me to go to Stanford when all my friends were going to perfectly excellent schools closer to home. He even encouraged me to enroll in an entrepreneurship class before most of us knew or could spell the word.
Melvin was supportive of his friends. You know there is an old saying: never sell your used car to a friend. Well, Melvin would not only sell friends his car to a friend at below market rates, but would also come over and work on it to keep it going – every weekend if necessary.
Melvin was very comfortable in his faith. To him, faith was open source. Open source in this context just means you can look inside. Melvin was like that with his religion. He loved studying the bible and exploring it with other people. Growing up, when some religious group or another rang the doorbell, Melvin would invite them in and put on the coffee. Everyone had a great discussion. Even the dog got religion, praying the talk would finish before midnight and we all could get some sleep.
At age 62, Melvin retired from DuPont. Melvin and Glynn moved to the Luling, Texas ranch and started a brand new career in the cow business. He made a pet of every animal he could find – the cows, stray dogs, stray cats, ducks, geese, even squirrels. He loved it and it was great for his health, something he and Glynn could do together and was good at it. Of course it was hard on him. I would get regular calls from our friend, the emergency room physician. They went like this: “Hello Don. Your Dad is in the emergency room again….” The operative word was again. It was usually a bite or a cow stepped on his foot. One time at age 82, a neighbor’s bull attacked Melvin, almost killing him. The bull only stopped the attack when Melvin played dead.
That was not the first time death passed close by. When in WWII, a German U-boat fired a torpedo at what it no doubt thought was a large ship. Turned out it was Melvin’s ship towing another ship. Perfectly aimed, the torpedo passed between the two ships. Melvin and his crew literally dodged that bullet.
Melvin’s little ship also plunged into the middle of an Atlantic hurricane. That was another close call.
Six years ago, Melvin suffered a stroke while feeding his beloved animals. Rushed to the ER – again – and life-flighted to Austin. The doctor who knew him said, “it’s bad, but if anyone has a good chance for recovery, its Melvin.” The young residents saw only an 86 year old man and wrote him off, saying “You don’t want me to climb on top of him and resuscitate him do you?” We said sure you should and if you want, we will climb up there and show you how.
The stroke was a serious blow, but Melvin made a remarkable recovery and enjoyed quality time with his family, especially his granddaughter Lauren, after that.
After the stroke, his grip on reality and some memories began to slip. But, he kept his humor. He managed to laugh, enjoyed being with people and always smiled. He was still able to smile in his last week.
I want to leave you with the idea that the book of Melvin is still being written by way of this story. A few years ago brother Ken was at the Valero station in Luling and saw a woman of advanced years struggling to put air in her tires. Ken went over and filled the tires. The woman tried to pay Ken and of course he wouldn’t have it. She asked his name and he said Ken. She shot right back and said, “They gave you a last name didn’t they?” By the way, senior citizens are not to be trifled with in these parts. She said, “Are you Melvin’s son? I owned the diner where your Mother and Daddy had their first date.”
I know Melvin’s book will continue to be written. I look forward to the chapters that Lauren Bain will add.
Glad you came. Enjoy each other’s company. Share some stories. Laugh together.
That’s just what Melvin would have wanted.