Dreaming of Space Flight

In honor of today's final launch of the Space Shuttle Endeavour, I thought I'd reminisce just a bit.  Though some might find it hard to believe, I grew up in the age of space flight.  In my early years, I remember rising early, staying up late, gathering around the black and white TV set to watch the Saturn V lift off with the small capsule at its top, carrying our astronauts into space.  First it was with the Mercury program and a single rider.  That was quickly followed by Gemini and its two-man teams.  Then, when I had settled on an early career choice of becoming an astronomer, the Apollo program blossomed into the manned missions to the moon.

During all of these liftoffs from Kennedy Space Center and splashdowns in the Pacific Ocean, I was mesmerized.  It was so exciting to hear the countdown to launch..."T minus 10 minutes and counting...five minutes...10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, we have ignition, 3, 2, 1, and we have liftoff of Columbia (or whatever the ship was named for that particular mission)."  Then, several days later, we would gather again to watch the capsule fall from the sky, parachutes opening high overhead to slow it to a safe splashdown speed.  Soon after, the astronauts would open the hatch and climb out onto an inflatable raft and be picked up by a helicopter that would carry them to a nearby ship.

The most exciting voyage of all, of course, was Apollo 11.  I remember it vividly.  The slow motion and hopping movements of Neil Armstrong descending the steps of the Eagle lunar lander followed by Buzz Aldrin.  Michael Collins flying in the command module.  Armstrong's famous quote, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."  Their phone call with President Nixon from the moon to the earth.  It was very exciting indeed.

All of the spaceflight in those days took place in tiny capsules where astronauts were basically confined to seats amid massive instrument panels beside, in front of, and above them.  With these images and ideas firmly ensconced in my mind, I got together with my childhood buddy from across the street and we created our own space capsule.  Well, it wasn't shaped quite like a capsule, but our imaginations took over where physical form left off.  We put some knobs inside a 55 gallon cardboard barrel to simulate a control panel, made some shoebox radio packs for ourselves with wire hangers forming the antennae, and stuffed ourselves inside.  This was obviously a Gemini model.  Our moon shot was still to come.

As I grew older, I got to watch the progress of the space program, all while I was adapting my professional outlook from astronomy to music (math to aesthetics).  But, I never lost interest in flight or space.  In fact, just two months ago, some of my Ethiopian friends took great pleasure as I pointed out some of the various constellations to them on a clear night in Addis Ababa.  All of that space information in the Time Life books my parents gave me as a child stuck with me these many years later.  That, and the Friday space science classes in my high school's planetarium.

Imagination is a great thing, whether it be the stuff of childhood vocational dreams, or visions of the starry sky that our ancestors created for us.  It gives life beauty and wonder, and we are the better for it.

Barry and Karen inside a very obvious replica of a tiny Gemini space capsule.  This one had yet to be launched.  Our radio packs were too large to take inside with us.  That was a problem for the engineers to solve.