The Rocket Boys begin launching into the "October Sky"

Dear Mr. Werner von Braun,
Let me begin by saying I am your biggest fan. Your work has lead me to form the Big Creek Missile Agency (BCMA) based on your Army Ballistic Missile Agency (ABMA). You have inspired me to become an Engineer for the ABMA helping the great country of the United States of America to reach the moon before the Russians. Let me tell you a little bit about myself, and about my story.
It all began with my feeling of patriotism towards my country. I have been growing up in a small coal-mining town by the name of Coalwood, in the mountains of West Virginia. One night while watching the television, i noticed the Sputnik I had been launched by the Russians. I was disgusted that they had beat us to it, of course, but when, a few weeks later, the sattellite had soared over my town, something inside me changed. That night, when all of Coalwood sat in my backyard and watched, I realized I wanted to send a satellite, or even a rocket, into space.
I gathered up the neighbourhood boys, Coalhican O'Dell, Sherman, and Roy Lee, and we set to work. I had saved some firecrackers from the Fourth of July, and put them inside a model airplane with the wings cut off. We tied a fuse around the firecrackers, and all found rocks to hide behind. Sherman did the countdown, Roy Lee brought the matches, O'Dell struck one and handed it to me who lit the fuse. We jumped behind our rocks and watched as the Cherry Bombs blew with a great flash. A witness saw it and later said it was a majestic and beautiful thing. That would have been great provided the "rocket" the witness had seen wasn't my mother's garden fence.
After a good talking to and a few days to let things blow over, I approached a boy named Quentin at school. He was, and is, basically the smartest kid in the school. I asked him if he knew anything about rockets, and after a few minutes of deciphering his vocabulary, learned he knew how to make black powder. Once we had bought the materials and found the right mix, we poured it into an alluminun tubing with a washer soldered on the bottom as a nozzle made by a machinist named Isaac Bykovski, and the Auk I was born. It only flew 6 feet but it was something.
Since then, we have come a long way. We have switched from black powder fuel to a mixture we call "Rocket Candy" based on its smelling like vanilla fudge. This mixture is made up of saltpeter and sugar melted in my mother's hot plate. Once melted in burns exceptionally well, and recently launched the Auk XII seven hundred and sixty feet in the air.
However, I write this letter asking for advice. I am supported only by Mr. Bykovski and my mother, but hardly anybody else. Have you ever been opposed? I have heard that you worked for Adolf Hitler, so I'm sure you have. I ask that you would write back with advice and how you respond to the critisism. I hope to one day work for you down at Cape Canaveral.
Your fellow rocketeer,
Homer "Sonny" Hickam