Moon Landing: Far Horizons

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The summer of 1969 was like a vacation after such an intense school year.  Oh, the usual working with Mom, which I treasure, went on.  The crazy heat and humidity of the Midwest turned our upstairs bedrooms into ovens.  Counting the days and crossing them off until my college freshman year began was part of my calendar.

My weight had been sinking all year until I was at 105 pounds.  Being 5’4”, even I could see how skeletal I looked.  I was not anorexic.  I simply could not eat.  Ulcer medication was not yet so sophisticated, so my diet consisted of baby food, minced meat, and a baked potato.  Those foods my stomach would tolerate.

Once I “won” a scholarship, my stomach sighed and allowed normal food to enter.  My weight zoomed up to 115 pounds, and I felt good. Later the scale would should a healthier 125.

My vision of the future had been through a  mind's eye mental telescope, seeing only the campus and dorms and an education that would move me from cornfields to parts of the world.  

Then July 20, 1969, changed my vision.

The Moon Landing date was projected and changed time over the week.  Then NASA confirmed it would happen at night here on July 20.  My excitement was rising with each hour on that day; I talked of nothing else. 

My parents went to bed, while I settled down in front of our new television, which was color.  Wait, I was waiting on every commentary, every radio transmission. In the “wee” hours of the morning, it happened: finally grainy black and white images appeared on the screen.

Even now, I can remember the images and words.

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I moved my single-minded mental telescope from college campus up to the dark sky, where the moon and stars had once seemed so far away until that day.

This time I was not watching for UFOs.  The future had changed for me on July 20, 1969.

It was often said after that time that America had "won" the race to the moon.  Won?  What do you think?

Dear Diary....

Source: Dear Diary....

It is rare thing to grab a random day’s memories from say, July 20, 1968.  Just a few words of a memory, but somehow those words piece together who I was on that day.

Forgotten diaries reveal so much, maybe too much sometimes.

July 20, 1968:  Grandma Cardiff is moving out of her apartment.  This makes me so sad.  She has a lot of packing to do.  I started a “hope chest” today with some of her linens and glasses.

Translation:  My grandma had been widowed in 1965, which sent her into a traveler’s life.  This new apartment was close to my high school, and I could walk there, spend the nights.  It was my escape place, removed from the farm and its demands.  Now she was moving off again.  She gave me some of her treasured dishes and embroidered pillow cases.    She made me feel happy and loved, and now she was off again.

July 20, 1968: Astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrain landed on the moon safely.  Neil Armstrong took the first step on the moon.

Translation:  I had graduated high school six weeks before.  I was heading to college, after herculean work to obtain a scholarship.  The news had been following the projected moon-landing.  In the middle of the night for our area, I watched it while my family slept.  The volume was on low, but the excitement was not.  That day was one of future possibilities—for me.

What will I read next?

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