It's one of those moments in time when you know where you were when it happened. The landing on the moon was big for our family. My dad had working for Martin Marietta for a few years in Florida, but we were now living in Charlotte. He had worked on the Saturn V project, but we were now watching the Apollo project reach its climax. It seemed later than it was on that July 20 night. The three Barker boys were hunkered on the sofa watch the lunar landing. My mom happened to catch a picture of us all in our scivvies more ready for bed than for history-making.
Unlike the more traumatic events that are seared on my brain ("Where were you when the shuttle blew?" "Chapel, at Wesley Seminary." "Where were you when the towers fell?" "In my office at Crestwood Church."), this was a wonderfully positive and gratifying moment in history. I had no understanding of the context or the ramifications of the lunar landing. But I knew that we, humanity, had achieved something great, and that only our humanity, that same humanity, would let that be the last stage in our reach into space.
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