Four in the morning.

It’s a little after four and I’ve managed to brush my teeth, change a laundry load, edit my book for a contest (not there yet) deadline today, sit on the steps with the dogs, and admire Neil Armstrong and the rest of the Apollo astronauts.

Mighty small fraternity there, ten men who walked on the moon. As I gazed up at that beautiful orb this morning I smiled and thought of Neil. I remember that day in 1969 so vividly that I can taste the onion rings at my uncle’s bar and the thrill of standing behind the couch (so that we didn’t block the adults) to see the first man walk on another planet.

He led a quiet life after his moon walk but his impact was thundering. I don’t think there was a little boy anywhere in the nation that didn’t admire him and want to be just like him. Handsome, smart, and as brave as any warrior ever was.

I hope that every time I look up into the night sky for the rest of my life I’ll think of Neil, Buzz, and Mike for just a moment or two.

Thank you, Mr. Armstrong, for lifting my dreams to the heavens.

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