The Moon and Chillicothe

My grandmother, Gummie and I posing in her dining room.

Aside from wishing for a dog, my greatest wish as a child was to spend time with my maternal grandmother. To me, she was the definition of love, a walking hug, the master giver of gifts and the one person in the world who lavishly gave me the attention and praise I so craved.

My wish was coming true in July of 1969.  Mom and Dad drove me all the way down to my Gummie's house in Chillicothe, Ohio. The drive in our 1967 blue/green station wagon seemed to take forever, but it was worth every long, boring minute. I was received like a beloved royal princess. Homesickness never ensued because being with her was like the home for my heart. It was a wonderful time of being treated to fudgsicles, playing matron of the manor in the huge dining room, and catching fireflies on the hot humid nights.

But then it ended. My Gummie got the flu and was so very sick she couldn't take care of 7 year old me. It was unfair as I was in the midst of my fairy tale summer vacation with her. Mom and Dad had to make the trip in the middle of the day and take me straight home in what seemed like the middle of the night. I didn't want to see my parents and I didn't want to go home.  But as it was, I didn't have a single thing to say in the matter.

My parents weren't too happy with the situation either. It was inconvenient. Dad was stuck driving late into the night and may have had to work the next day. Back then he was working long hours seven days a week for General Motors in Saginaw, Michigan.

What's even worse, history was being made and my parents were stuck in a car. They'd planned on witnessing the Apollo Moon Landing on television with the rest of the world, and watching Walter Cronkite explain what they were seeing. Instead, they heard it on the radio.

I didn't care what was happening on the radio. It didn't matter to me that history was being made. I was a kid. I wanted to be with my Gummie.

Since the drive took several hours, I had time to get over my temper tantrum. As I was lying in the back seat (no seat belt on of course), I watched the moon.

 I started putting pieces of information together. I realized there were some people on the moon --on the moon.  In one jolt of connection, I understood, with the brain of a seven year old, that something amazing was happening.

I spent the rest of the ride with my eyes transfixed on the moon. Studying the surface closely I tried to spot anybody walking around. Neil and Buzz must have been inside at that time, because I didn't see anyone, nor a shuttle or a flag. But that didn't discourage me.

At that moment something was born. I'd always thrived on my imagination, but men walking on the moon encouraged my impressionable mind. Imagination with the impossible can create something out of this world! Adventure and fantasy isn't just for movies and books -- it's for real life, too.

If men can walk on the moon, then  . . . . . .
. . . who knows what's next!!