Jack and Janice Fleming were in the middle of of their vacation on the Jersey Shore, but instead of soaking in the summer sun, the teenage siblings were inside their hotel room with their parents, glued to the television.

It was July 20, 1969.

As Neil Armstrong took his "one small step" on the moon's surface that afternoon, their father, William Fleming, watched silently. His grin of satisfaction was the only indicator of his role in the success of the mission.

In May of 1961, President John F. Kennedy issued his directive to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade.

Fleming, a Battle Creek native who died in 1999, was tasked with leading an ad hoc committee at NASA to determine the feasibility of achieving this goal. The comprehensive 510-page "Fleming report," written in six weeks by a team of engineers, concluded it could be achieved by 1967, at a cost of $12 billion.

"Fleming played a key role in framing the early discussions about how we would go to the moon," said NASA Chief Historian Bill Barry. "Mr. Fleming worked in the NASA Headquarters Office of Space Flight Programs in the very early days of forming the plans to go to the moon. In fact, he was on most of the committees that took the initial look at what 'mode' would be used for landing on the moon and — based on that — what kind of booster we would need to do that work."

In the 50 years since the Apollo 11 mission, little has been reported about Fleming's part in its success. He, like many of the engineers and scientists behind the historic feat, worked tirelessly but away from the public eye.

"He was just my dad. He was nobody special. Because he didn’t project that he was anything special. It was just good old dad," Janice Fleming said. "As I got older, I understood it, but I'm not sure I fully understood the depth and scope of his management, and the fact it was his road map."

Battle Creek beginnings

Bill Fleming's father, William Fleming Sr., emigrated to Battle Creek from Northern Ireland in 1911 to work for the Michigan Carton Company, and later, Postum Cereal in its factory and as a bookkeeper.

Bill Fleming was born in Battle Creek in 1921. His father died from complications following a medical procedure in 1933, and he and his younger brother were raised by their mother, Greta, a nurse who served in the U.S. Army Nurse Corps during World War I.

"My father said, 'Grandma told me I needed to be the man of the family,'" Janice Fleming recalled. "He drove everywhere, learned to drive, took responsibility. Had a paper route and delivered papers to make money. He just had to grow up real young."

Fleming attended Battle Creek Central High School, graduating in 1939. His senior portrait in the 1939 Paean, the school's year book, shows a bespectacled, dark-haired young man. Next to his photo is the quote, "Moral, sensible, and a well-bred man" and lists his extracurriculars: chairman of the political science club and football.

Propulsion pioneer

After graduating from high school, Fleming attended Purdue University. He enrolled in an accelerated program during World War II, graduating with a degree in aeronautical engineering in 1943, when the notion of traveling to the moon was mostly limited to pages in comic books.

Fleming was hired out of college by the Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory (now known as Glenn Research Center), part of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, the predecessor to NASA. There, he managed chemical rocket research in the laboratory's altitude test chambers and supersonic wind tunnels. The research helped pioneer jet propulsion, testing some of the first U.S. jet engines used in combat at the end of World War II.

He worked at NACA for 15 years. According to his son, he nearly left after his first year to enlist in the military.

"In the middle of the war, he got the itch to enlist in the military, since everyone else is doing it and its the patriotic thing to do," Jack Fleming said. "He went down to the Navy enlistment office, actually enlisted and he was given a commission as a college graduate. The enlisting officer said, 'All you have to do is get your boss to sign off.'

"He goes back to the office to report back to Abe Silverstein. He walks into his office and says, 'Guess what? I've enlisted in the army.' Silverstein says, 'Not so fast. Let me see those papers, hold on a minute.' While my dad is sitting there, he calls the enlistment office. 'Cancel that enlistment, he is too important here.'"

Accepting the challenge

In his famed address to congress in 1961, Kennedy said, "We choose to go to the moon! We choose to go to the moon...We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too."

Upon receipt of this directive, Robert Seamans, then associate administrator at NASA, established a task force to devise a plan to make it happen. The task force was chaired by Fleming, who was given four weeks to submit the report. It took six weeks. The report was titled "A Feasible Approach to an Early Manned Lunar Landing."

The urgency of the report was due to the ongoing "space race" between America and Russia.

"We don't know if the Russians will beat us to the moon," Fleming told the Battle Creek Enquirer in July of 1961. "They have always stressed spectacular projects, but they still must face the same problems we do.... The objective of our program is not to be first, but to do it as quickly as possible."

During a trip to Battle Creek in 1962 to visit his mother, Fleming gave a presentation to a local Kiwanis Club, addressing questions about the value of the Apollo mission.

"Many ask what good is it going to do us to place men on the moon," he said. "The answer is that, in addition to the accomplishment itself and all the advantages that might accrue, the technology surrounding space flight has military implications. And many of the techniques and materials developed will become part of our industrial complex and our way of living."

After the "Fleming Report" was issued, he continued to play a key role at NASA as director of technical programs. He traveled constantly as a troubleshooter of sorts, ensuring the scientists and engineers were on schedule.

Among his frequent stops to various space centers, he often visited the Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, to meet with German-American Wernher von Braun, chief architect of the Saturn V rocket that propelled the Apollo spacecraft to the moon.

"My dad was sitting in a conference room with von Braun and three or four of his German scientists. 'How are things going on the testing side of the rocket? Are you on schedule?'" Jack Fleming said. "Von Braun would turn to his German scientist and speak in German. They'd go back and forth, he'd nod his head and go to the next one. My father didn't speak a word of German. Five minutes later, von Braun would turn to my dad and said, 'The answer to your question is yes.'"

After completion of the Apollo program in 1972, von Braun wrote to Fleming, "I would like to take this opportunity to thank you especially, Bill, for the tremendous job you have done to make NASA's planning activity a success. I have been particularly impressed by your willingness to seize the initiative to take the necessary actions for the efficient functioning of my office."

Fleming retired from NASA in 1974. Upon his retirement, Eugene Emme, NASA's first historian, wrote to him, "Because of your energy and your dedication to the civilian space venture, the world, the moon, and even the universe now appear differently to most of humankind... Apollo and all the rest of NASA's historical markings are not stone monuments like the Pyramids, the Acropolis, Notre Dame, or Stonehenge. They are symbolized by people dedicated to do difficult and unprecedented things, and in concert."

From 1974 to 1985, Fleming worked in Washington as a management consultant and also volunteered at the National Air and Space Museum. He was diagnosed with stage four gastric cancer in 1999, and died two months later at 78. His wife of 45 years, Evelyn, followed in 2010.

While he played a significant role in mankind's "giant leap," Fleming never let his work interfere with his family life.

And it wasn't until late in his life that he shared his accomplishments with his grown children.

"Later I asked him, 'Why didn’t you go to any of the launches?'" Janice recalled.

Her father, she said, answered, "Why should I? My work is done. They are riding along, but all the hard work has been done, the scientific and engineering aspects are what got them there."

Nick Buckley can be reached at nbuckley@battlecreekenquirer.com or 269-966-0652. Follow him on Twitter:@NickJBuckley