I think the first was the RFK assassination in 1968. It was a ritual in my house growing up: "CBS Morning News" at 7. "Captain Kangaroo" at 8.
I remember watching the black and white images of a wounded Kennedy on a Los Angeles hotel kitchen floor, but I remember the moment more from my parents reaction. Sad. Horrified.
The Apollo 11 landing was a much different story. Awe. You might find this hard to believe, but I was a geeky kid. I was "in" to books, and listening to the radio, and watching television. The
Apollo 11 mission was a week of unmitigated joy.
The Apollo glory moments were late at night and early in the morning. I remember my parents allowing me to stay up late, watching the landing and moon walk sprawled out on the foot of their bed, viewing Armstrong, Aldren, and Cronkite on a black and white portable TV. It was always Cronkite. I can still see that TV. It was big for a portable. General Electric. Blue case. Antenna on top.
I don't remember how long I was able to keep my eyes open, but those awake moments were unforgettable.
Man's greatest adventure. A kid's memory of sharing a special moment and history with the family.
