Photo by Greg Martin
Of course I remember the Moon Landing. I was four. I don’t recall the specifics, not the lift-off on July 16, nor Armstrong’s first steps four days later, but I certainly remember the event as a whole. My brother was home on leave from Vietnam with his best bud, Joe, and the two of them just camped out in front of the TV for days. Of course I made a perfect nuisance of myself: “Where are your guns? Where’s your helicopter? Why can’t we go to Mission Control and watch everything on the REALLY big screens?”
They’d tell me to outside and see if I could spot the astronauts on The Moon with my naked eyes, to which I would reply, Of course I could. And 50 years later, I’m still looking.
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