a reply to:
FauxMulder
I was alive, and I watched it on a big ol' black and white console TV, with my parents, my sibs, and my grandmother--whose own grandmother had come
over from Ireland in a sailing vessel.
To this day, my greatest memory of the night is the looks on my parents faces, and my grandmother. To this day I'm not sure what the looks conveyed.
Wonder? These were the two generations that saw the dawn of flight, my grandmother has/had a picture of the Wright Flyer flying over her hometown in
Iowa when she was a very young girl, and the dawn of the Atomic age, and the computer age.
Times of wonderful advancements, but this one, in their eyes, trumped all of 'em. It was another world, and man was stompin' around on it. In 1969,
who didn't visualize colonies in space? We've started on that track with the ISS--still have a ways to go, but it'll come. Or colonies on Mars?
That will come, too...not in my lifetime perhaps, but it'll come in my nieces time. Or in your young children's time. That process, too, has
started. With Sojourn, and Pathfinder...and Viking, and Mariner. Eventually? The stars, there too, the first paths are being blazed--Voyager, and
Pioneer.
Someone asked what's been gained from the Space Program, or maybe the landing on the moon specifically... Dreams. Dreams that are, slowly, becoming
or will become reality.
Earth was never meant to be our home forever, and ever, 'til the end of time. It was meant to be a nest. To protect us 'til we're ready to leave it.
Like fledgling eagles stay safe in the nest for a while, practicing the art of flying in relative safety near to the nest they were born in, so that
they may return to a safe haven 'til--one day--the skies beckon. It'll be the same for man...eventually that day will come when we leave this
sheltering nest and stretch our own wings. One day, Earth will be where we came from, but it won't, any longer, be home. Home will be
out
there.
All because, once upon a time, a clunky ol' spaceship landed on the moon for a few days. Designed by other folks who, maybe as little boys and girls,
once saw a Wright Flyer fly over their home, or watched Charles Lindbergh fly across the Atlantic to Paris. Or any number of endevours that stretched
the bounds of human achievement.
All because of dreams.