I remember!

I remember!.
Blade Runner
July 20, 2010

I remember the day, May 5th, 1961, when USN Commander Alan Shepard, in his Mercury capsule Freedom 7, rode a Redstone rocket to become the first American in space. I was a Petty Officer 3rd in the Navy then, and for both Commander Shepard and me, JFK was our Commander in Chief. My duties as an Aviation Electronic Tech, whether at the test bench in the shop or at my flight station aboard the P2V Neptune, seemed so insignificant compared to Shepard's mission. Yet, I felt proud of my branch of service, proud to be an American, and in some small way, felt like I was part of the team. On May 25, 1961, twenty days after Shepard completed his mission, President Kennedy challenged the nation.

"I believe," he said, "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."

My fellow "Swabbies" and I thought, "Man! How cool is that?"

Throughout the next six years, I cheered the progress of the Mercury and Gemini missions. I could name all the astronauts, name their ships, and the missions they flew.

After my discharge, I enrolled as freshman at the state university. On November 22, 1963, I was on my way into the library when I noticed a group of girls crying. A fellow physics student came out the door and told me what had happened. My sister was inconsolable. She loved JFK and wanted me to draw something to honor him, so in my art class I did a charcoal portrait of JFK and, in my best calligraphy, printed on it his memorable line, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." When I gave the picture to my sister, she said, "let's pray for our country." Seemed like the thing to do.

Life was exhilarating in the 60s. Lots going on, good and bad. War--hot and cold--racial unrest, riots and assassinations. And Americans trying to get to the moon. I hung in at the university for one semester, then left the academics behind and became a fire fighter, learned to play the Highland bagpipe, and began a long career as a recreational parachutist (skydiver).

Then came Apollo. And tragedy. I remember January 27, 1967. The first Apollo mission never got off the ground. Three astronauts died. (Nineteen years and one day later, seven more would perish). But, America would not back down. President Kennedy said we should go to the moon. We were committed. To do so would be a grand thing for America, and the world. And, so . . .

Forty one years ago last Thursday, the world watched anxiously as three Americans, encased in cumbersome space suits and strapped in their Apollo 11 capsule atop a Saturn V rocket, listened to the final count down and focused their thoughts on monitoring the liftoff. These three men gave no hint of concern for the challenges they would face during the voyage they were about to undertake. They were the most highly trained team ever fielded to "go where no one has gone before." And, the world was watching them.


People everywhere--from those in the spectator areas at the launch site to the streets of Tokyo, from Berlin to Bangkok, Rome to Rangoon, people in their homes, in their cars, at their workplaces and on the streets, watched their TVs, listened to their radios, read the ticker tape marquees, and held their breath, said a prayer, then cheered when the monster rocket had climbed the critical 15 seconds to clear the gantry and three Americans were on their way to set foot on the moon.

On Sunday, July 20, 1969, some buddies and I had our own little "space" adventure going on. We were at a parachute competition in Calistoga, CA. We likened our mission to that of the astronauts. It was a stretch, but our objectives involved docking in space and making pinpoint landings. We did this in two-man teams. At an altitude of 7500 feet AGL, two jumpers would exit the aircraft together, one of them would be carrying a raw egg (A judge aboard the plane wrote down the name of the "egg man."). In free fall, the egg man would pass it to the other. We were then to attempt a landing on target center and present the judge waiting there with an unbroken raw egg. A broken egg disqualified the team. Lee was the egg man, and in a one hundred and twenty MPH wind, he passed the egg to me. I managed to protect the egg during the opening of my parachute, then put it in one of my gloves and held the glove with my teeth as I steered for landing. With the egg intact, we scored an accumulative total of 19 cms from target center. Lee and I won the 2nd Place trophy.

Sometime that afternoon, the meet director announced that Neil Armstrong and "Buzz" Aldrin were in the Eagle on the way down to the moon, that we should all head for the bar to watch. Never in my memory have I been in a bar packed full of people where I could have heard a pin drop. A cheer shook the room when we heard, "Tranquility Base here, the Eagle has landed." And again we were transfixed watching the first garbled images of a man working his way out of the LEM and down the ladder to the surface of the moon. When Armstrong announced the "giant leap for mankind," grown men and women who, a couple hours earlier were throwing their tender bodies out of airplanes in flight, cheered and laughed and cried. American flags magically appeared, men and women embraced, sang, danced. Women were stripping on the pool table. The party went on most of the night. I woke up just after sun-up on July 21st in a field of California grapevines, still wearing my white jumpsuit with an American flag on the left shoulder. And still, counting all the days from then to now, that was the grandest day of my life as an American. And it was confirmed on July 24th when the astronauts were safely back on earth.

Following the astronauts' world tour, Micheal Collins, Apollo 11 Command Module pilot, remarked how deeply he was struck by the comments of the people they met in every country they visited. "Wherever we went," he said, "we were hearing from everyone--Europeans, Asians, Africans-- 'WE DID IT!' Not 'You guys did it', but 'WE', the human race."
The "giant leap" was real.

Yes, just forty one years ago today, people all over the world prayed for America's success. Today, on this anniversary of that magic moment, I remember. And I pray.





In the documentary video, "In the Shadow of the Moon", directed by Ron Howard, the astronauts themselves tell the story of Apollo 11 and subsequent moon landings.

Official website
http://www.intheshadowofthemoon.com/

Get it here
http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Moon-Harrison-Schmitt/dp/B000XJ5TPE

"My walk on the moon lasted three days, my walk with God is forever."
Charlie Duke, Mission Control CapCom for Apollo 11, Lunar Module Pilot on Apollo

Great Article, Blade!

And it's great to see you!

Doc Trock wrote:Great Article, Blade!

And it's great to see you!

Thanks, Doc. Good to be here.
Here's a funny anecdote from the second man to set foot on the moon.
In the Ron Howard documentary, Buzz Aldrin said that someone had asked him why he paused on the bottom rung of the ladder with one leg hanging free. Said he had to take a leak.

Welcome Blade and happy to see you here!!

Just an awesome story ... I too remember Shepard's flight ... the whole school packed into the auditorium to watch it .... even the girls were interested.

I liked the days when America's "not backing down" had an application wider than warfare. And life was exhilarating in the 60s .... people love to hammer the 60s, but I think the 60s were a high point in America's history .... maybe "the" high point. Certainly, those who experienced the 60s knew American Freedom and all it has to offer.

Wow...May 5th, 1961...I was a whole month away from being born! Did I miss much?

dsmbaptist wrote:Wow...May 5th, 1961...I was a whole month away from being born! Did I miss much?

Dunno, where were you on July 20, 1969?

Bladerunner wrote:

dsmbaptist wrote:Wow...May 5th, 1961...I was a whole month away from being born! Did I miss much?

Dunno, where were you on July 20, 1969?

Let's see...I was 8 years old...Don't remember much back that far! I remember that I had just finished second grade at Lafayette School, I was out of school most of third grade, so I had to repeat it...which is why I graduated from high school in 1980.

Nope, I can't recall much...since I had an abusive upbringing I probably blocked a lot out. God is good, though---He probably reached into my soul and removed a lot of the beatings and the yelling so that I wouldn't have to suffer as an adult!