By Janice Lane Palko
When Paula Green, our Trivia writer, handed in this month’s
trivia on the 50th anniversary of the U.S. putting the first men on
the moon, I couldn’t help thinking about where I was that night. I was nine when
astronaut Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon, so my memories of that big
event are a bit foggy and self-centered; all my recollections focus on what was
important to me at that time.
I am a child of the space age; the first generation to grow
up with space exploration. President Kennedy launched the space program the
year after I was born, and all throughout my childhood outer space played a
part. I watched The Jetsons, My Favorite Martian and Lost in
Space and listened to Dark Side of the Moon, Rocket Man and Space
Oddity.
When I was in elementary school at St. Athanasius in West View
during a space launch or splashdown, for lack of an auditorium, the teachers
would move all the students out into the center hall where we would sit on the
floor in front of a black and white TV mounted high on a tall stand. On a fuzzy
black and white screen, we’d watch rockets blast off or see returning space
capsules plunge into the ocean—all in the name of science education. Most of
the time, the kids just goofed off, pulling hair, girls whispering to one
another or the boys wrestling. I don’t remember much about the other space
voyages.
However, the moon landing was different. Like many families
on July 20, 1969, my family was gathered in our living room in front of our
black and white TV. I remember being sleepy and bored waiting for what seemed
like forever, for the hatch to open on the lunar module. I remember my dad pointing
at the screen and telling us to pay attention, that this was historic, that
someday we’d all be glad that he’d made us stay up to watch this. I also
remember my little sister, Joanne, who was four, crying and wanting to go to bed,
but my dad insisted that she remain awake. I remember everyone holding their
breath as Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon and thinking, “So, it’s not made
out of green cheese after all.” My dad’s admonition worked; I still remember
the moon landing, and yes, I’m glad he made us watch it.
As I grew older and space exploration became more
commonplace, most of us only paid attention to it if something tragic happened
like Apollo 13 or the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion. I can’t remember who
said it or where I read it, but someone once commented that humans quickly get
bored with things of their own creation but never tire of God’s, how once we
landed on the moon, most people lost interest in space, yet after all these
millennia, people still gaze in wonder and awe at the moon, God’s creation.
I think that is a fair assessment. I was never a space
enthusiast, and I think the importance of the moon landing was lost on my
nine-year old mind, but I still marvel at the moon on a cold winter night or
love to gaze up at it on a warm summer’s evening from my deck. However, fifty
years later, I have a greater appreciation for the moon landing than I did back
in 1969, and I wish I remembered more. What were the adults were thinking back
then? Did people pop champagne in celebration or set off fireworks? What was
conversation around the water coolers in America afterward?
This month when I look up at the moon on July 20, 2019, the
adult thoughts that I didn’t have back then will be streaking through my brain:
What a dream! What a challenge! What a risk! What an accomplishment!
Our
astronauts, our nation—we were on top of the world when we were on the
moon.
This originally appeared in the July 2019 issue of Northern Connection magazine.
