It’s the 50th anniversary of the moon landing, and there’s been a heap of news and stories, and great doco’s on leading into it. I’ve been right into it because it’s a fascinating and heroic story, no matter what anyone else tells you.
It reminds me how old I am too, for I can actually remember watching the first walk on the moon on TV.
I was just a small boy at that point, not long turned five. I can’t remember if I was in prep or grade one, but I recall sitting in class with a TV being wheeled in and the teacher fussing around before on the small black and white screen came the blurry shots of Neil Armstrong bouncing around on the surface of the moon.
I don’t remember what I thought of it then, but I’ve never forgotten it. I can still see it now in my mind. I was a cute kid then with all of life ahead of me, and now I’m a grizzled adult with a lot of stories to tell, and it seems both a lifetime away, but also fresh and memorable.
I wish my mum were still around to ask her about this time, but I think that often these days. I’m at the age now when I look back with curiosity and want to know what it was like back then on the ground when these things happened. What did it feel like? What did you think?
But then, I guess, they’re the questions I might get asked someday.