To The Moon and Back Again--Thoughts on NASA

I grew up in the age of the Man on the Moon.
I remember Neil Armstrong's
"One step for man
one giant leap for mankind."
It was the Age of Aquarius
in full blown technicolor.

I remember TV anchor, Walter Cronkite's emotional-filled report--
cereal box manufacturer's even put his broadcast
on the back of cereal boxes.
We carefully cut out the round paper disk,
and though it was a bit warped,
placed the phonograph needle on the paper
and listened to Mr. Cronkite's words
again
and
again.

It was history
and we knew it.

From our parents to our teachers
to our neighbors and the world,
we all knew
going to the moon
was not just a science fiction fantasy--
it was a reality
and a big deal.

I grew up in Florida.
We lived in Titusville,
just across the Indian River
from NASA's Cape Canaveral launch pad.

Our little oceanside town would fill up
with tourists from all over the country
when an Apollo launch was scheduled.

My mom used to clean our house like a new penny,
and rented my bedroom out for a night to tourists
for those launches.
A person could see the launch pad from our roof.
Our school made sure we were on the playground
if a launch took place during school hours.

We couldn't see the launch pad from the playground,
but we knew when the spaceship was lifting
because the earth shook around us.
It was powerful.
We'd shade our eyes with our hands,
as we watched for the large fireball in the sky--
and were never disappointed.
Amazing. Simply Amazing.

Most of my classmates' fathers worked for NASA,
so did my Uncle Bob, and eventually one of his daughters,
my cousin, Coleen also worked there.

Growing up in Florida,
we learned about Amerigo Vespucci
and Ponce de Leon's search for the fountain of youth
and St. Augustine...
Alot of exploration and discovery back in the day.
NASA is what the good part of America is all about--
daring to dream there is more than meets the eye,
exploring the Universe
and discovering the strength and determination of mankind.
An environment like that,
made a lasting impression on me--
nothing is impossible or out of limits
if you just try your best.
And never give up.

When the Challenger Shuttle exploded,
I sat on the edge of my seat,
glued to the television.
I didn't just turn on the TV after the news,
no, I had been watching the lift-off as it happened.
I will never forget the look on Christa McAuliffe's father's face.
Bewilderment, then pain.
I felt the same way.
And like many,
wondered if that tragedy was the end of the program.
Gratefully, it wasn't.
And that was January 1986.
So here we are, 2011,
and it's over.

It saddens me that America is putting the NASA program on the back burner--
the money isn't there anymore
for exploring and discovery beyond the end of our noses.

Yes, I get that there are enough problems right here
on the soil of our earth to keep us busy for the next 100 years--
wars, rumors of wars, natural disasters, pestilence, etc, etc.,
yes, we'll keep our noses to the ground and put money into those
mostly man-made problems,
but the loss of NASA is a big deal.

Looking to the stars has always been mankind's source of hope
even in the darkest hours.
We long to be above the shackles of mortal life
and understand the bigger picture
to give us purpose and meaning.

It's not enough to know what's beneath our feet,
we need more than this.
So we look to the stars for answers.
And until NASA, we didn't know much about the stars
beyond their constellations--
NASA brought the stars home to us.
We didn't have to get in a spaceship to go see,
Astronauts invented technology that brought the stars
home for us...
with moon rocks,
and glorious photos
and the 10 million-watt smiles on their faces
as they emerged from their shuttles--
letting us all know that the adventure they're returning from
was completely, literally
out of this world!

My thoughts are with the families of NASA today.
I hope they get many more chances
to bring the stars home to us mere mortals.

Oh I hope they do.