by Martin Wiles @LinesFromGod
I remember the day and the place. July 20, 1969. I was nine years old. Well, almost. In the middle of a hot Southern summer, I sat in our den, cooled, I’m sure, by a window air-conditioning unit, awaiting a historic moment in American history.
The black-and-white 19-inch television sat on a shaky stand, not attached to a secure stud on a wall. I kneeled on our couch, awaiting the grand moment many Americans thought was NOT happening. Believe it or not, many thought no one had been flying around in space and certainly would not be walking on the moon’s surface. The government was pulling our leg. But I believed it—and wanted to see it.
Sure enough, moment by moment, announcement by announcement, slowly, the monumental event unfolded. Apollo 11 landed on the moon, the hatch opened, an almost alien-like creature emerged, and humanity made their first step on the moon. Neil Armstrong said of the event, “One small step for man; one giant leap for mankind.”
