Apollo 11, July 20, 1969 a life altering event and a paper LEM

Oddly, I recall that my first thought upon waking up on the morning of July 20, 1969 was that I did not want to miss the lunar landing. We had a family gathering to attend that afternoon in the nearby town of Freeland, Michigan and I was concerned that the TV at the home where the gathering would take place would likely be occupied by with Tigers baseball like it always was at such summer family get-togethers. My folks assured me that I had nothing to worry about, but I was far from convinced. Of course mom and dad knew full well that none of the networks would be carrying anything but the Apollo 11 landing, their 12 year old son, however, could not fathom such reasoning- I continued to fret.

Our family gathering that day had nothing to do with Apollo 11. The fact is that my younger brother and my cousin both shared close birth dates on the July calendar and it was decided to have a big cookout at my cousin's house in Freeland to celebrate them together. The trip there was considerable by the standards of a 12 year old- all the way across town and out to farm country. I had no way of knowing that four years later my own family would move from Saginaw out to Freeland and I would eventually graduate from Freeland High School- on that July sunday in 1969, it was a respectable road trip to me.

On the way out of town, dad stopped for gas at a Gulf station. He pumped in a few dollars worth, went inside to pay and upon returning handed me a large piece of card-stock paper. It had black and gold shapes printed all over it in a series of odd patterns. For a second or two I studied the sheet, then I recognized the two triangular windows of the LEM in among the patterns! Dad told me that they were giving these away at Gulf and you had to pop the pieces out and then you could fold it into a LEM model! GREAT! He also warned me not to start until we got to the party, so I wouldn't lose any of the pieces. All the way to Freeland I studied the sheet of paper as I sat in the back seat of dad's 66' metal flake navy blue, Buick Special. I was sure that making that paper LEM was far beyond any skills and abilities I possessed... and I was right about that.

By the time we got to the party the TV was already locked onto CBS and Walter Cronkite and Wally Schirra were earning their pay. Unlike the launch, this time I sat on the floor in front of the TV, transfixed at everything that was happening. Here was the kid, well known as the one who rarely paid attention in the classroom, who was instantly bored by any reading assignment, who could not sit still long enough to focus on more than three arithmetic problems, who was always "out the window" rather than in the lesson, sitting there in full "learning mode." My parents and relatives were amazed. I watched each simulation of what was to come and soaked it in as the paper LEM model sat nearby waiting for someone... anyone... to start working on it.

Amid my new found focus on the technology of spaceflight, I became so engrossed in what was going on in the TV that I forgot to eat. The result was a nasty stomach pain, yet it was not enough to distract me from the mission broadcast. My mom eventually delivered a plate to me containing a hotdog and some beans... I don't recall eating it, but I'd sure I did... probably under threat that mom would turn off the TV if I didn't eat. Several folks, including my dad, an uncle and a few of my older cousins, came and sat with me- all of whom took a stab at assembling that accursed paper LEM... no one got very far.

As the Eagle went into PDI and began to arc toward the landing I was totally focused on that TV set. Odds are that there were people around me... lots of them... but I don't recall a single one. I do recall, however, every "GO" call relayed by Charlie Duke to the crew. I knew enough to recognize that "go" was good in the vernacular of spaceflight. The communications were peppered with static and break-ups and the series of computer alarms clearly did not seem right. Since the alarms did not seem to bother the crew, I wasn't worried either. I figured that NASA had planned and rehearsed every second of this operation- since that was what the newsmen on the TV had always told us that NASA did... of course I was wrong in that assumption... but hey, I was 12.

As the CBS simulation showed the LEM touching down, however, the air-to-ground voice did not match the simulation. Indeed the LEM was shown on the moon for quite a while before the video tape of the simulation was suddenly wound back to showing the LEM still in flight. I knew that was wrong, but reasoned that it was a CBS error and not a problem with the landing... I was wrong again... hey... I was 12... remember?

It has often been said by the engineers and crews that the landing of Apollo 11 was more significant than was the EVA. So it was for me- as I heard Charlie Duke say "...we copy ya' on the ground, ya' got a bunch of guys about to turn blue, we're breathin' again, thanks a lot." I knew that they had indeed landed on the moon. Around me my relatives clapped and cheered a bit, then went back to the party. My cousins who were near my age went back to running and playing. I simply sat there... thunderstruck... watching, listening, soaking it up like a sponge. I wanted to know more- for the first time in my whole life, I wanted to learn more- more about these vehicles, more about this program, more about that moon, more about space and how it all works. But- there was a problem... you see, no one who was not on that TV, no one who was at that family gathering with me, no one in my entire neighborhood... could teach it to me. In retrospect, at that moment in time, I already knew more about the space program than anyone else near me. If I was going to satisfy my new urge to learn more about the space program, I would have to teach myself.

The party broke up a few hours after the landing and I gathered up the parts of my paper LEM and we headed home. Just before we left they announced on the TV that the EVA would be moved up to around 10 pm that evening. It had originally been scheduled for the following morning, in fact President Nixon had already given all federal workers Monday off as a "Day of Participation" now they'd just have a nice day off. When we got home, my dad asked me to break out my little 50 power refractor telescope. We took it out into the backyard and set it up on the deck of our 4 foot deep above-ground pool, and pointed the lens toward the crescent moon.

When the EVA began, no one really knew what that grainy black and white image was of. In fact, it was upside down at first- but soon the folks at NASA flipped it over and before long we saw a boot followed by Neil Armstrong's shadow. I heard his words as he stepped onto the lunar surface and then I ran outside to look through the telescope... as if I was going to see something. While the EVA went on everyone gathered at our house... and we did have a sort of secondary family gathering going on, since most of my aunts, uncles and cousins lived within a block of my house... took turns running out to that stupid little telescope and looking up at the moon. Interestingly, four decades later I find that this same pointless exercise was going on all over the hemisphere at that same time.

I didn't make it through the entire EVA. I pretty much ran out of steam toward midnight and don't recall how I got to my bed. Odds are I fell asleep in the living room during Nixon's call or shortly there after... Nixon had that sort of influence on a space buff.

When I awoke, however, I would be a different kid than I was that morning- many others would as well. That damned paper LEM, however, never would get put together... 40 years later, it's probably still beyond my skills and abilities .

Apollo 11... launch day, 40 years ago

It was a fine summer morning in Saginaw, Michigan on the 16th day of July, 1969 and by nine o'clock that morning, most of us kids had already been outside playing for a while. I had no idea that the events that were up-coming would have a profound effect on my life- sure I'd been told a zillion times that history would be made that day, but in the mind of a 12 year old, that meant little.

Although documentaries of the era would have you believe that every place you looked there were hippies on acid with flower face paint ambling around blowing bubbles and angry black people marching down every street and burning buildings as F-4s dropped napalm on hills nearby, but that is as far from the truth as those events were from our neighborhoods. For most of the nation this was a time when most of us were living a much more near Leave It To Beaver existence than the one depicted in the documentaries. Sure- moms didn't wear a dress to do housework and dad was only seen in a suit when going to a funeral, but other than that we were happy and safe. My friends and I played outside totally unsupervised from the time we got out of bed in the morning until the streetlights came on in the evening. We made good use of every second of summer weather. It was an era of plain white T-shirts, Red Ball Jets sneakers, skinned knees and grass stains.

There was no escaping the TV coverage of the Apollo 11 mission as all of the networks had been on the air live since since before dawn. Bergman did some of his best space savvy droning on ABC in contrast to the outward disdain for the space program presented by Chet Huntley and his otherwise indifferent partner David Brinkley on NBC. Over on CBS they had pulled out all of the plugs for this mission. Cronkite had been teamed up for the first time with astronaut Wally Schirra in pairing that would become nearly as legendary as the flights they would cover. All three networks ran the standard clips of the astronauts, eating, suiting and walking out... although a close look at the suit-up would have revealed that the event shown was actually taped during the Countdown Demonstration Test back during the first week of June, (The tell-tale clue to that is that in the "suit-up" footage, the astronaut's suits are missing the Apollo 11 mission patch.) Of course the fine producers at NBC could not resist the urge to temper what excite may be generated and go out and "ask" the "public" what they thought of the mission. So they went out and found that well known Apollo Cheerleader, the Rev. Ralph Abernathy who, of course went on camera to moan about all of those poor and hunnngry people in America, who you'd think were dropping dead in our streets by in bunches, and he then acted as if the cancellation of this mission, at this point would somehow instantly cure all of that. Less than a year later, the producers at NBC and Rev. Ralph would get their wish. The Apollo program would be cancelled and an estimated total of less than $300 million dollars out of the $24 billion invested in Apollo would be returned to the federal coffers and rapidly turned into bureaucratic cellulite. No ghettos would be cured, no extra programs to feed those herds of "The hungry" would appear and thousands of aerospace workers would lose their jobs.

My mom called me to the TV less than two minutes before Apollo 11 lifted off. At the time I was only marginally interested in the space program. I'd watched with a kid's interest, all of the previous flights and now stood by the TV and watched as Apollo 11 counted down to zero. The images of the Saturn V roaring to life were familiar as were the images of the ascent and staging. I recall that as Apollo 11 cleared the tower, my mom said "Oh God... they're taking such an awful chance." I remember looking at her and saying to myself "What chance?" NASA had this all planned out... I thought... so completely that every detail was covered. I recall feeling that my mom's concern just showed that she didn't understand how good NASA was at doing this. When the coverage switched to animation, I went back outside to play.

Things in my world were immediately different from that moment, however. It was like a space program infection had suddenly spread to everyone everywhere. No matter where you looked or who you spoke to the subject of Apollo and spaceflight seemed to pop up. The other kids in my neighborhood played space and space toys of ever sort seemed to come into their possession out of the blue. I went back to my room that evening and got out my model CSM and LM that I'd build with remedial modeling skills. I practiced some docking and undocking and did a lunar landing on my bedroom floor. For the first time in my 12 years of life, I recall having the strong desire to find out more about this and I wanted to do so before the astronauts, now headed toward the moon, arrived there.

klyde morris 07/16