My Neighbor Worked for NASA!

We live in a relatively new neighborhood. In fact, when we moved into our house, we were one of the only houses on the block. Most of the other lots were empty or under construction. As we watched the house next door go up, we wondered what our neighbor would be like.

Our neighbor:

Terri Lilley.

We met her on one of her first days in the house, and we knew instantly we hit the jackpot of great neighbors. We loved her friendly nature as she planted flowers in pots on her porch and made an extra effort to make the outside of her house look nice. I was jealous of her green thumb and still am--she’s one of those people who can make anything grow and look pretty, even in this sweltering heat. One of the days when I was out trying to help my struggling plants, we got to chatting, and she mentioned that she used to work for NASA. I was so fascinated and impressed, and I couldn’t wait to interview her and find out all about her experiences there! As people tend to do, she surprised me. Her story held so much more profundity than I expected.

When I start an interview, I always begin with “tell me your story,” because I want to hear what they’d like to share about their life’s journey. I’ll tell the person that they can tell me anything that they feel defines them and the trajectory of their path--anything they are comfortable with me sharing. When I asked Terri that first question, she emphatically answered, “2 things: being sexually abused by a family member as a child and having a hysterectomy at 20 years old. These things made me weaker and afraid.”

I had no idea. But we usually don't. You really don’t know what a person has been through no matter how pleasant they are or how strong they may seem.

I understand this is a hard topic. One that often makes people uncomfortable and maybe makes them stop reading. I get it. It’s uncomfortable for me too. I was not abused by a family member, but I was sexually abused as a child and again as a young woman. I’ll bet that if I added a poll here, Terri and I would not be alone. And for those of you who can relate, I’m sorry. It can be a terrible way of defining yourself. For those of you who can’t, I am so glad, and I hope you’ll keep reading so that you can understand what something like this can do to a person. How it can become a dangerous thread, weaving its way through every experience in your life, suffocating joy and light. For Terri, this thread twisted through her childhood, teenage years, and into adulthood.

In the midst of this childhood darkness, Terri found the courage to talk to her parents and tell them what happened. And I am so glad that in her story, they listened. They took action and protected her from it ever happening again. Even though the damage had been done, and she would have years worth of working through that, they made it okay to speak up and gave her a safe space to continue growing up.

After Terri graduated from high school, she joined a program with NASA where they provided an alternative to college for people with on-the-job training and opportunities to move into other fields. She began this program by working as a keypunch operator. Because of her capabilities and her willingness to work and learn, she went from keypunch to astronaut training fairly quickly. She learned to use binary coding to program training loads for astronauts. She worked with the Apollo program and actually trained John Young and Robert Crippen for the first space shuttle flight!

John Young

Robert Crippen

STS-1

She was one of the first female mainframe operators with NASA, and one of very few women working in that environment at the time. Because of this great job, she was able to purchase a home for herself, but not before being forced to get her father to co-sign on the loan. Even though she worked for NASA and made more money than he did. What a world.

I was a little floored at how easily she described the treatment she and the other women were subjected to at NASA. They were objectified constantly and when she would have to read through the men’s logs as part of her job, they would refer to the women as “not having brains.” This type of treatment served as a nasty reminder of that childhood abuse. Because it felt the same. It was all about control, and she could feel the twisting of the thread even there. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the challenges of the job and the opportunities it provided. She became a bit discouraged again, though, when the time came for the company to give out raises. Terri noticed that the men were getting the highest ones. One of the men in particular who was always late and didn’t seem to do as great of a job, got one of the highest raises. When she asked about it, she was told that he got that raise because he had a wife and kids. I’m truly in awe of the pioneering working women, like Terri, who dealt with this type of treatment and helped make a change for the rest of us.

Her last years at NASA came with the Challenger explosion. That moment lives in many of our memories as such a horrific day, but for Terri it weighs more heavily. She had trained that whole crew, and losing them all was more than she could bear.

She said it was so difficult how it all happened because they knew that the shuttle shouldn’t have launched. The experts at NASA had advised that they wait until everything was ready, but the politicians and media at the time pressured them to go ahead. Terri said that was all she could handle, “you trust people to do the right thing.” But they certainly hadn’t, and that was the end of her twenty-year NASA career.

From there, she totally switched gears and began working as the director of a church’s children’s ministry. She liked working with children and wanted to be in a safe environment. As she puts it, “churches and schools should be safe.” She wasn’t there long before two of the girls from the local school district came forward saying they had been sexually abused by one of the dads in her congregation. And here she was again, that same thread tightening around her life once more. But she said, “women tend to become advocates for children, especially women who come from abusive experiences.” So she did just that. At the time, the church was going to support this man in the congregation; I mean, who knew if these girls were telling the truth? But Terri thought, “I have to believe and protect these girls.” So, in a meeting with some important people in the church who were deciding what to do, she stood up and said, “stand up if you’ve ever been sexually abused.” The majority of the people in that meeting stood up. And as a result, the man was not allowed back in the church and was later incarcerated for abusing his own child.

The fall-out wasn’t fun for Terri, though, as the pastor came to her and said, “don’t ever put me in that position again.” But she knew she had done the right thing, and she would do it again if she needed to. She also saw that she could take a step like this and survive it. Up to this point, she had mostly been quiet. Afraid. But she was tired of being afraid, and she had seen that she really could speak up. She wouldn’t let that twisting thread keep her tied up anymore.

After she left that job, her life changed a bit as she met her new husband and moved to Pennsylvania. There, she joined a Mennonite congregation that she adored. There was a school there, and she began to work with children again when they had openings for her to fill. She loved the welcoming, service-oriented environment and felt that she had finally found a church that was getting it right.

She lived and worked there happily until her husband died, and then she moved to Texas where she helped her brother run his store for a bit before moving in full-time next to her parents. She stepped into this new phase of her life with strength she had gained from speaking up and the healing she felt from being a part of the loving Mennonite community. She began to feel the strain of the suffocating thread weaken, and the power of her true self strengthen. She was in charge here. She managed seven acres, and she cared for her aging parents. They truly needed her, and even though it was very difficult, it felt right. She was beginning to feel free.

She lives next door to me now, in Boerne. She moved here to be with the kids she adopted earlier in her life. She has grandkids she loves to see often and gets to take care of. She says what helps steady her focus and keeps her feeling strong is controlling her surroundings. One example of how she does this is with music. She listens to her favorites as often as she can, and she loves how it helps her focus on the truth of who she is. Her favorite music includes a South Korean boy band, called BTS. I was surprised about that one, but she says their music encourages her to love herself and actually saved her when she lost a son to suicide. Her favorite this year has been Miley Cyrus’, “Flowers.” And she really perks up when she talks about it.

She also says it helps to be busy and that “it’s better to be needed, especially when you’re older.” She stayed busy during COVID by sewing masks, since she does love to sew. And lately, she has started baking and cooking, and she regularly shares her baked goods with the single mom across the street.

It’s funny how so many women I talk to don’t see themselves clearly. Terri called herself grouchy and described herself as if she’s the neighborhood curmudgeon who’s always yelling, “get off my lawn.” But she could not be more wrong about that. She is one of the friendliest people I know. I mean, she knows nearly everyone on our block. I only know her and one more person. Maybe I’m the curmudgeon.

Terri, I'm so glad you moved in next door, and I am inspired by your story and how purposeful you are in bringing joy into your life. I look forward to more chats--next time with a glass of wine and maybe some good music.