Tranquility Base.
The Eagle has landed.
July 20, 1969. The
end of a tumultuous decade was in sight.
One promise, made by a young, charismatic president on behalf of all
Americans at the dawn of the decade, was fulfilled. The light of future promise, dimmed by the spatter of blood
flung from hate fueled division and assassination, was rekindled. In the middle of that hot July night,
two hundred million eyes and ears were as one waiting to hear that the Eagle’s
pads rested safely on the lunar surface.
Neil Armstrong’s simple words are the ones most quoted and
remembered, “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” He always modestly recounted that it
was the appropriate sentiment for the moment. He understood that his individual achievement was but one
step in a ten year, million mile journey.
He paid homage to the thousands of Apollo people who had to remain
earthbound.
We’d been married just over a year. Our family was still the two of us plus, of course, Matilda,
our Basset Hound who was almost as dumb as she was cute. Another year and a half would pass
before our firstborn would arrive.
Our adulthood was hewn and our marriage was forged while the space
program tackled one challenge after another and the 1960’s raged all around
us.
That night, we sat on the couch holding hands. Hypnotized by the oval screen of the
little black and white TV, we watched until deep into the wee morning
hours. Even Matilda, who usually
lumbered through the room with ears dragging like an aspiring swiffer years
before they were invented, sat still.
She paused and folded her stubby hind legs. As focused as a pointer, her eyes were held in rapt
attention as the Eagle lit on the lunar soil. Every dog senses important moments.
Our popular culture celebrates celebrity. That has been true since well before People magazine, cable TV or
Facebook. And we tried. There was a tireless, long, multi-front
effort to coerce Neil Armstrong to don the mantle of celebrity and to profit from
walking in the limelight. He
couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. He
paid a dear price for not bending to the pressure from those who define worth
mostly, or only, by fame. I
imagine his family and close friends paid the price as well. A few days ago, he passed quietly and
privately. He left us with
questions to ponder, ideas to discuss and lessons to be learned.
In the magnitude of time and the infinity of space, it is
relevant to recall that our first excursion to another celestial rock landed in
the Sea of Tranquility. The site
was dubbed Tranquility Base.
During those years marked by assassination, Viet Nam, Watts, freedom
rides, Kent State, the summer of love, Woodstock, and LSD - there were a few
thousand dedicated, nerdy, pocket protector, slide-rule engineers figuring out
how to escape the surly bonds of Earth, fly to the Moon, land a man on its
surface and return him safely to Earth.
This effort that bound us together and helped heal the wounds of that
decade would name the target Tranquility Base.
A few months ago, as we gathered to watch the Moon rise over the
North Carolina coast, I knew that it is the same Moon - the Moon that Armstrong
and his compatriots aspired to visit.
They saw the technical challenge and the millions of incremental steps
required to take a man there and to return him home. They knew the risks of each tiny step and brought resolute
commitment to continue the effort.
They knew the journey was endless and that each goal reached was just a
single step in the march to the next milestone. That Moon we watched climb above the ocean’s rising tide was
the same today as when he walked its terrain except for the flag he anchored
there, some footprints in the lunar sand and some remnants of the Eagle.
Since on the Moon there is no weather and there is no wind,
footprints made by Buzz and Neil remain.
Men went to that place in peace.
They chose the visit to Tranquility as proof that their team could reach
for the stars and grasp them. They
succeeded in making every necessary step the journey required. When losses came or missteps happened
along the way, the cost was dear but there was no quit in this team. They learned. They made the step again. Before they left Tranquility Base, they were already
wondering about the next steps into deeper space.
One of the very few things that caused Neil Armstrong to
relinquish his privacy and speak publicly was when he believed that the journey
would be abandoned. He knew that his
was just one small step. He knew
that every step completed elevated us all. He knew that none of us takes any step completely alone and
that the limelight was fleeting and easily flashed hither and yon. He was an eagle among us.
I hope the eagle has again landed in a tranquil base.
--td