From Moon Landings to Legal Limbo: The Tragic Final Chapter of a NASA Hero

FAYETTEVILLE, Ark. – December 29, 2025 – His was a life that traced the very trajectory of American ambition in the 20th century, from the battlefields of World War II to the jungles of Brazil and ultimately to the launchpads of NASA. The Reverend John M. Stout was a scientist who tracked the parts for the mighty Saturn V rockets, a chaplain who ministered to the Apollo astronauts, and the visionary who fulfilled a fallen astronaut’s wish to land the Holy Bible on the moon. Yet, the final chapter of this decorated veteran's life was not one of celebrated honor, but of alleged neglect and isolation, culminating in a protracted legal battle that, even years after his death, leaves his historic legacy in jeopardy.

A new book, Undaunted: The Unflinching Faith, Audacity and Ultimate Betrayal of Reverend John Maxwell Stout, by author-journalist Carol Mersch, brings this complex and troubling saga to light. It chronicles an extraordinary life that ended in a quiet tragedy, with priceless historical artifacts, including Bibles that rested on the lunar surface, caught in a judicial quagmire.

An Iconic Path to the Stars

Born in Handley, Texas, in 1922, John Stout’s life was anything but ordinary. A decorated and disabled WWII veteran, he served as an artillery captain in the Pacific, earning a Purple Heart. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable, leading him to earn six degrees in disparate fields, including petroleum engineering from Texas A&M, chemical engineering from the University of Texas, and a PhD in Linguistics. His path was a tapestry of science and faith.

Before joining the space race, Stout served as a Presbyterian missionary in the dense forests of Brazil. It was there, in an unlikely friendship with a young Senator Lyndon B. Johnson, that he secured the orbital coordinates to capture the first clear photograph of Russia's Sputnik, a major intelligence coup. This intersection of technical skill and global positioning eventually led him to NASA in the mid-1960s. At the Manned Spacecraft Center, he worked as an information scientist, standardizing the data systems used to track the millions of parts for the Apollo command module and the colossal Saturn V rocket. He accepted the post on one condition: that he could also serve as an unofficial chaplain to the astronauts and the program's thousands of employees.

The First Lunar Bibles

Following the devastating Apollo 1 fire in 1967 that claimed the lives of astronauts Gus Grissom, Roger Chaffee, and Ed White, Stout helped form the Apollo Prayer League. The 40,000-member organization, operating as an outreach of Faith Presbyterian Church in Pasadena, Texas, had a singular mission: to pray for the safety of the astronauts and to honor Ed White’s personal wish to carry a Bible to the moon.

Weight restrictions made carrying a standard book impossible. Working with NCR Corporation, Stout and the League produced the “First Lunar Bibles” - the entire King James Version, all 1,245 pages, photographically reduced onto a single 1.5-by-1.5-inch square of microfilm. After an unsuccessful attempt on the Apollo 13 mission, the goal was finally realized on February 5, 1971. Apollo 14 astronaut and lunar module pilot Edgar Mitchell, a friend of Stout’s, carried a packet of 100 of these tiny Bibles in his personal kit, landing them on the Fra Mauro highlands of the moon. Another 200 remained in orbit aboard the command module.

These Bibles, physical testaments to a unique moment in human history, became Stout's most significant legacy. Upon their return, he distributed some to dignitaries and members of the Prayer League, holding onto the rest as sacred artifacts of a promise kept.

A Legacy Seized and Isolated

In 2010, the heroic narrative of Stout's life took a dark turn. The Texas Department of Aging & Disability Services (DADS) intervened, seizing the then 88-year-old Stout and his frail wife, Helen, from their modest apartment. According to Mersch's book, the agency assumed the couple was indigent, surrounded by what they deemed a hoard of worthless papers and memorabilia. With only the clothes on their backs, the Stouts were declared wards of the state and placed in a rural Medicaid nursing home.

There, they were held incommunicado. Their cell phones, laptops, and even writing materials were confiscated. Communications were severed, and incoming mail was censored. Only after the agency began disposing of their property did the truth emerge: the “worthless trash” included rare aerospace artifacts and the priceless Lunar Bibles. The state had unwittingly captured a significant figure in American religious and space history.

“Texas Attorney General Greg Abbott, now Governor, officially defined such treatment as ‘senior abuse,’” said former aviation-space reporter Preston F. Kirk, who had followed Stout’s career for decades. Kirk noted that the state's own definition of elder abuse included “isolation and deprivation,” the very conditions allegedly imposed on the Stouts. “Despite the guardian's admission in court of the maltreatment, protests by church members and a state agency investigation, Abbott declined to intervene,” Kirk stated.

A Battle Still Churning in Texas Courts

The discovery of the artifacts’ value triggered a legal firestorm. The state, which had initially discarded the Stouts' belongings, now sought to claim the Lunar Bibles and other items to pay for the couple's state-mandated care. This ignited a complex, multi-party dispute over ownership that has spanned fifteen years, involving the state, Mersch (to whom Stout had reportedly gifted items), the Stouts' adopted son, and Faith Presbyterian Church, which argued the artifacts legally belonged to the nonprofit Apollo Prayer League.

Rev. Stout and his wife both died in state custody, Helen in 2012 and John in 2016, deprived of contact with many friends and loved ones. Although some aspects of the legal fight have seen rulings over the years, the press release for Undaunted reports that the final disposition of the estate remains unresolved. According to the book's publisher, the current probate case has been stalled for two years in a Chambers County, Texas, court with no judicial action.

This prolonged inaction means that a significant collection of American history is not in a museum for public appreciation, but is instead locked away. Millions of dollars in fragile, one-of-a-kind artifacts - including the microfilm Bibles that made an impossible journey to another world - are likely deteriorating in the confines of a courthouse safe.