50 years ago
Spouse and I have been texting back and forth as I go in and out of service zones crossing this vast desert toward home.
His memory isn't great--has never been--but he does remember where he was and his emotions when the moon landing happened. He was earning summer money as a pool guard in Virginia. He can still hear the distant thunderstorms and smell that heavy green smell of northern Virginia as he recollects the euphoria of watching those first steps on TV.
I have to admit that I was a total washout as a sf and f fan: I had no interest in space program stuff--it was too much like my enemy, math. I wanted to leap past the exploration part into the world of space opera--encountering aliens and interesting worlds.
But I did get caught up in the moment, I can tell you exactly where I was: driving down the 405 in our gigantic station wagon toward home.
We'd left the last day of school, and with the top of that huge station wagon packed with luggage, stopped at the DMV for me to take my driving test because my mom didn't want to drive alone. Well, I'd barely had any practice--she was scared to take me out, and my dad had, but he'd scared the crap out of me. I figured out later he couldn't stand to be driven, especially by a rank beginner. (I'd had driver's ed, but we'd been four to a car, and the two guys had always used up more than their fifteen minutes, followed by the girl. Me, as the nerd reject of the group, usually got three or four minutes. I never objected as it was horrifying trying to drive with three sarcastic teens in the car with the instructor, Naturally they all knew how to drive already.)
Well, I failed the test by one, but the guy testing me said, "I'm going to pass you. Your mother's going to need the help--and if you don't know how to drive by the time you return to California, you never will."
He was right.
I didn't do any of the driving when we went "back east" (as we thought of it) to Minneapolis to meet my mother's bio-dad and his second family, the kids all our age, Thence to relatives in Red Wing MN and Eau Claire WI. I didn't do any of the driving on the way out. Too intimidated, and my mother--once we left CA--let my younger brother drive, though he didn't have a license. But he'd been stealing cars since he was thirteen to joyride in and teach himself to drive. So he actually did most of the driving.
But once we got back east, he had to fly back because he was on probation for said stealing, leaving my mom and I as drivers. In Eu Claire, my mom insisted I take the car out and practice on their sleepy streets with zero traffic, which I did in that gigantic ocean liner of a car.
By the end of the visit I had become sure enough to do most of the driving back and so on the 20thJuly 1969, I was driving us home on the 405 and we listened on the radio. I got so caught up that I inadvertently headed off at the Haskell Av exit, which is an extremely sharp turn marked 15mph.
But by then I'd gotten so used to driving that station wagon I swerved us neatly into the curve, and pulled out of the fishtail at the bottom. My sister screeched, my little brother crowed "Do it again!" and mom suggested I pull over and we listen to the rest of the moon landing,
I do remember a sense of wonder as we listened. After it was over, I drove sedately home, and of course all anyone talked about was that and would we get to go to the moon by 2000. Would we have orbital habitats.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1008864.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
His memory isn't great--has never been--but he does remember where he was and his emotions when the moon landing happened. He was earning summer money as a pool guard in Virginia. He can still hear the distant thunderstorms and smell that heavy green smell of northern Virginia as he recollects the euphoria of watching those first steps on TV.
I have to admit that I was a total washout as a sf and f fan: I had no interest in space program stuff--it was too much like my enemy, math. I wanted to leap past the exploration part into the world of space opera--encountering aliens and interesting worlds.
But I did get caught up in the moment, I can tell you exactly where I was: driving down the 405 in our gigantic station wagon toward home.
We'd left the last day of school, and with the top of that huge station wagon packed with luggage, stopped at the DMV for me to take my driving test because my mom didn't want to drive alone. Well, I'd barely had any practice--she was scared to take me out, and my dad had, but he'd scared the crap out of me. I figured out later he couldn't stand to be driven, especially by a rank beginner. (I'd had driver's ed, but we'd been four to a car, and the two guys had always used up more than their fifteen minutes, followed by the girl. Me, as the nerd reject of the group, usually got three or four minutes. I never objected as it was horrifying trying to drive with three sarcastic teens in the car with the instructor, Naturally they all knew how to drive already.)
Well, I failed the test by one, but the guy testing me said, "I'm going to pass you. Your mother's going to need the help--and if you don't know how to drive by the time you return to California, you never will."
He was right.
I didn't do any of the driving when we went "back east" (as we thought of it) to Minneapolis to meet my mother's bio-dad and his second family, the kids all our age, Thence to relatives in Red Wing MN and Eau Claire WI. I didn't do any of the driving on the way out. Too intimidated, and my mother--once we left CA--let my younger brother drive, though he didn't have a license. But he'd been stealing cars since he was thirteen to joyride in and teach himself to drive. So he actually did most of the driving.
But once we got back east, he had to fly back because he was on probation for said stealing, leaving my mom and I as drivers. In Eu Claire, my mom insisted I take the car out and practice on their sleepy streets with zero traffic, which I did in that gigantic ocean liner of a car.
By the end of the visit I had become sure enough to do most of the driving back and so on the 20thJuly 1969, I was driving us home on the 405 and we listened on the radio. I got so caught up that I inadvertently headed off at the Haskell Av exit, which is an extremely sharp turn marked 15mph.
But by then I'd gotten so used to driving that station wagon I swerved us neatly into the curve, and pulled out of the fishtail at the bottom. My sister screeched, my little brother crowed "Do it again!" and mom suggested I pull over and we listen to the rest of the moon landing,
I do remember a sense of wonder as we listened. After it was over, I drove sedately home, and of course all anyone talked about was that and would we get to go to the moon by 2000. Would we have orbital habitats.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1008864.html. Please comment there using OpenID.