Space

Celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing this summer has brought a flood of fond memories to the fore.  I remember precisely where I was when man first set foot on the moon - I was at boy scout camp at Indian Mound Reservation in Oconomowoc.  All of us scouts were wedged into a mess hall to watch the event unfold on an exceedingly small black and white television.  I don't think it was live as it was probably after dark that we watched the coverage. 

I have a memory of staying home from school the morning of May 5th 1961 so I could watch astronaut Alan Shepard ride his Mercury spacecraft Freedom 7 to became the first American in space.   For me the space program was an all-consuming fixation and my educator parents were not confident that the school would adequately allow for sharing this historic event so I was truant that morning to properly witness the launch and recovery.  

Following John Glenn's successful orbit of the earth in his Mercury spacecraft Friendship 7 my dad took me to the parade on Wisconsin Avenue in Milwaukee to watch the capsule pass on a flatbed.  I have no recollection of the astronaut being in attendance. 

In 1967 when a preflight fire on the launch pad resulted in the deaths of the crew I was devastated.  I will never forget their names:  Gus Grissom, Ed White and Roger Chaffee.

When a moon rock went on tour and was exhibited at the Milwaukee Museum mom gave me bus fare and lunch money for the lunch counter at Woolworths.  I rode the #32 bus downtown on my own to set my gaze on a chunk of rock half the size of my fist.  There was an armed guard in attendance to make sure nobody heisted it.  

I was sharing with Jill that as a small child I had a cardboard space capsule in the basement of the house I grew-up in.  It was my own personal Mercury space craft complete with a battery operated view of the world that revolved on the cardboard control panel.  It received so much use in my imaginary space travels that I'm not sure it lasted even a year. 

And wouldn't you know it such a thing still exists on the web - to the highest bidder.






Speaking of which - in the fart lodge upstairs where my hunting buddies sleep there is a print by astronaut Alan Bean.

It's a limited edition print, signed and dated by the astronaut artist himself and it appears to be worth way more than what I paid for it.