For those who know me, the space program has always been a big part of my life. Today, Neil Armstrong has died. I have been surprised at how that has affected me.
You can say what you want about NASA, but that organization has done more for this country than most governmental organizations.
As a child, I watched Neil step on the moon, the first heavenly body that Americans had ever touched. To this day, that memory has stuck with me. As you can probably tell, writing this is difficult. We have lost, not only an American Hero, but a World Hero.
I want to reprint a portion of what the Armstrong family said in their statement ...
“The next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon
smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink.”
Tonight has been an emotional night for me, and I am reposting a previous post as I witnessed the final Space Shuttle launch.
Enjoy ... or reflect ...
Apollo Son reflects on the end of the Shuttle Program
Growing
up as the son of an engineer working on the Saturn V, I came to love
the space program and everything that it represented. The risk,
exploration, innovation and country pride during the early days of the
Apollo program is unmatched in our history.
On
Friday, July 8th, I took my family up to the Cape for the final shuttle
launch. Regardless of only a 30% chance of a launch, we arrived to
crawling traffic and cars parking wherever there was a sliver of land to
view the launch.
This
brought me back to the days of the Apollo missions. The throngs of
launch watchers took to the shores of the rivers, lagoons, and the
beaches. Sometimes we would arrive hours before the launch and spend
what seemed like all day and sometimes into the night. Back in the early
days, the launch windows were not of the ten-minute variety that we see
today.
The
sense of pride and accomplishment that made the Apollo program special
infiltrated all who watched in awe at the spectacle. Thousands would
gather with their picnics, battery powered televisions and radios. All
around, the echoing of the launch sequence reverberated from the tinny
sounds of transistor radios at each outpost. A chorus of voices joined
the countdown adding to the excitement of the moment. At liftoff, the
crackling of the five engines producing 7,650,000 pounds-force shattered
the calm. The massive percussion assaulted our senses and the crowd
would cheer the Saturn V as it climbed higher into the sky.
Waiting
for the final Atlantis launch, the crowd reminded me of the early days.
It was good to see. I had witnessed other shuttle launches and the
crowds were not impressive. People had grown complacent with the Shuttle
program. Faceless astronauts, not the rock star explorers of the early
years, piloted the Shuttle. The country had become an “event” crowd and
the routine shuttle launches were not an event. Sure, they came back,
after a tragedy. That always made the next launch an event.
I’d
like to say that the Apollo program was not subjected to the same
apathy, but that is not the case. In the waning years, the fervor of
launches and the routine of going to the moon brought smaller and
smaller crowds to the beaches. The Apollo program ended due to budget
cuts and the lack of support to keep sending Americans to the moon.
As
we waited for the final firing of the main engines, the feeling of
nostalgia and pride rippled through those that had gathered on the
shores. However, it was eerily different. In this modern day of iPhones
and technology, there were no radio’s belting out the launch sequence.
Many people looked around wondering what was happening, was it going to
go off on time. Thousands of launch fans stared at their web accessed
phones, trying to get an update. There was an almost church-like hush
amongst the crowd.
Suddenly
and quietly, the liftoff occurred. The flash of the solid rocket
boosters lit up the sky and the Atlantis climbed quietly into the sky.
With the wind at our backs, it was as if a silent rocket had just shot
toward space. The crowd started to point at the fireball climbing
higher. The cheers and applause escalated and a chill went down my
spine. Although much quieter, this Apollo Son felt the excitement and
pride of the old days.
The
man standing next to me looked up and shouted, “Godspeed.” The term
used back in the early days of manned space flight, a Middle English
expression, a wish for success and fortune for one setting out on a
voyage, adventure, or travels. The Atlantis disappeared behind the
clouds for a brief moment. As it broke out into the blue, the sounds of
the its thrust finally reached the ground around us and provided a brief
feeling of the power involved in sending humans to space.
Forty
some years ago, I was a wide-eyed kid, watching us send astronauts to
space with awe. It is my hope that my three-year old son will have a
glimmer of memory about this historic launch. He knows his grandfather
helped build the Saturn V and he loves everything “space.” He gets
excited when he sees the moon and I can’t help but think that he might
one day be able to venture back there.
There
is no question that the Shuttle fleet is old and very costly. I don’t
disagree with the ending of the program. It just hurts that as
resourceful and innovative we are as Americans, that we don’t have an
alternative in place.
Life
sends you down roads that you never thought would happen. I’m a author
now. Writing stories about a teenager named Van Stone. He doesn’t have
any magical powers or isn’t a vampire. He’s a real kid that uses science
and determination to solve mysteries. Since I build his world, maybe
one day he’ll get into space. The only problem is, we no longer have a
manned space program.
Let’s hope I don’t have to build an imaginary world for him to accomplish that task.
