President
Kennedy, in his 1961 inaugural address, announced, "...I believe that this
nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out,
of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth."
Even
though the original intent was to beat the Russians to the moon, and ascend to
the top of the heap in terms of cold war achievements, there is possibly no
greater historical moment in U.S. history than July 20, 1969. In one iconic, single
step, Neil Armstrong became the quintessential American hero.
I was all
of ten-years-old.
To a
ten-year-old, the space race was pretty heady stuff. Living in the Upper
Peninsula, Cape Canaveral (then Cape Kennedy), was a world away. Thank goodness
for television and Walter Cronkite.
My dad,
rest his soul, was one of those people that had to have the newest gadget the
moment they hit the store shelves, or as soon as economically possible. In July
1969 we gathered in our so-called 'tv room', now a dark-paneled space, graced
with an equally dark-finished wooden floor to watch history be made.
Back then
the room was more open and painted in light hues. Within it was entombed a
beautiful, well-polished, electronic beast. An Admiral Color TV. (Which
actually debuted in 1966, but these things don't just pay for themselves, ya
know.)
It was a
monster console housing a 25" diagonal color tv tube. With it's walnut
veneer, it was a nut-buster, if not
moved by two or more people. Going no further than a foot at a time avoided an
unintended medical condition. It was 1960's state-of-the art, with its tuning
knobs hidden within the new technological wonder known then as the 'tilt-out
control center'.
The stage
was set. The lift-off was in beautiful technicolor. The actual landing of the
LEM was disappointingly in black and white. Which at the time, no one but me
could have cared less about. (I didn't understand the complexities of
broadcasting in color. Thankfully, unlike HD, color was free, where available.)
Finally,
on July 20, 1969 we watched two Americans jump out of the lunar module and
conquer the great 'Man-in-the-Moon'. I was totally in awe.
For many
adults, whether in black and white, or color, the final outcome was assured.
Planting the American flag on the moon first was all that mattered. We beat the
Russians to the moon.
Back then
our adversaries were more commonly known as the Soviets and/or
Russkies/Commies/the red menace. The list goes on and on. Of course with their
new-found entrepreneurial skills, we're now asking them for rides into space.
At a premium, no less. But I digress.
Being a
boy just short of 11 years-of-age, I didn't share the same definition of
success my elders did. We landed on the moon fer cryin' out loud. How cool was that?
And it wasn't made of cheese! Who cared about the Russians? They lived further
away from Florida than I did.
That week
in 1969, the nation, including my entire neighborhood, sat spell-bound in front
of the tv, waiting for venerated newsman Walter Cronkite, to countdown the
lift-off of the Saturn V rocket. Then came the the pairing of the Lunar Module
and the Command Service Module. Finally, success!
As we all watched breathlessly, the LM descended to the lunar surface. Neil
Armstrong, placing one boot on the moon, made the now famous proclamation,
"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind".
Those
words, and that achievement, have stayed with me since. Unfortunately, the man
declaring it, has not. Neil "Buzz" Armstrong has left this earthly
plane, just a few short days ago. He flys now with the angels and saints. Here
on Earth, as on the moon, his achievement will always be remembered.
Safe
travels, Buzz.
