Weather: A brief thunderstorm late this afternoon, with gusty winds and heavy downpours. It lasted less than half an hour, though. Our drought continues.

Eating: Fresh, sweet corn on the cob, which we are enjoying while we can. It may become scarce this year, due to the lack of rain. Background courtesy of
Ace of Space

Moon Memories

Thirty years ago today men walked on the moon. Much of the media coverage of the 30th anniversary of Apollo 11 has been eclipsed by the search and recovery efforts underway for JFK, Jr.'s plane and the bodies of the victims. Still, I was glad to see Neil Armstrong pop up on a few news bites, looking hale though quite a bit older, of course. As a rule, Armstrong shuns media attention. In fact I don't remember seeing much of him five years ago during the 25th anniversary commemoration. At his age five years is a long time; perhaps he realizes this may be the last big anniversary in which he will still be able to participate.

When I was young, space exploration was something I saw on television, a spectator sport. Even before Apollo 11 I used to like watching rocket launches on TV with my father: the Gemini orbital flights and the early Apollo missions. When I was in second grade in Catholic school I got in trouble with a nun who objected to my habit of holding a pencil straight up on my desk and whispering a countdown: "Four, three, two, one, LIFTOFF!" I never actually launched the pencil, but I suppose I was exhibiting a lack of proper decorum, not to mention a regrettable penchant for flights of fancy, a tendency which that Catholic school tried its best to stamp out.

I wasn't quite eight years old when the Eagle landed and men walked on the moon. It was after 10 p.m. Eastern time when Armstrong took his historic step. I remember all of us watching the spectacle on TV: my father, my mother, my almost seven-year-old sister Lori, and me. Our younger sister, Monica, would have only been a toddler and so probably was in bed, and the youngest, Susannah, had not yet been born. I remember my parents saying to Lori and me: "You'll tell your grandchildren about this one day." I wonder now if I remember that first moon walk specifically because they told me I would and if it would have had such a lasting impact otherwise.

I do remember rushing outside and looking up at the not quite full moon hanging in our night sky. When I squinted, I thought I could see tiny black dots moving on its surface, like mosquitoes crawling on a light fixture. "I see the astronauts," I shouted. My father told me no, that they were too far away, but I was sure I'd seen them.

I still like to look at the moon in all its phases. And I still follow the space program with keen interest. Growing up, I thought at one time I would like to be an astronaut. Though I'll never go to the moon now except in my imagination, I still think one of my children or grandchildren might one day.

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