I remember staying up all night with my dad waiting for the moon walk. I stayed awake and kept waking my dad up as they kept postponing the time they were going to come out. "Dad they're coming out now". Only to have to wait a little longer. I was 12 and this was what I had been dreaming about for years. I'd followed every space launch of the Apollo programme. I had Airfix and Revell models of all the space vehicles.
RIP the hero of a generation.
When I was a kid, I dreamed about being a space cadet (Astronaut). I was a fair bit younger than you, but was captivated by the whole of it.
I've done a bit of reading since about the various space programs, stood next to the miniscule mercury capsules at the Kennedy space centre, and the thing which has occurred to me is just how brave these pioneers were. They were riding into space on a slowly detonating bomb. They had no idea if it would function correctly all the way into orbit, or indeed if the systems they were using to bring them back in a controlled manner would function correctly.
The Russian cosmonaut system relied entirely on them weighing a given amount, and sitting tight in their seats to ensure that the capsule for the correct COG orienting things and so it wouldn't start to tumble and the heat shield would offer up a lifting body effect to slow the descent (Mercury was a capsule they said was worn by the pilot as it was so small)
The more I looked at it, the more I recognised that they have more bottle than I, and I doubt I would grasp the offer to go into space if somehow miraculously, that ever presented.
They all had huge gonads for doing what they did, and Neil Armstrong was chosen because he was the best of the best they had at the time for the task in hand.
