Life & Laughter - Copy, Moon Joy

When astronaut Neil Armstrong took those first steps on the moon, I had just celebrated my first birthday. I don’t remember either event, but the entire world held its breath as it watched Apollo 11 land, while I shoved my hands into a birthday cake. 

That moon mission used less technology than your bathroom scale. It was basically human calculations, a slide rule and a Rand McNally paper map that guided those astronauts on the first lunar road trip. 

We were told that space was the final frontier; space was the future. We learned that, like age and teenagers, space isn’t forgiving. 

As a Murray High School senior, my home ec advisor wheeled a TV into the classroom to watch the Space Shuttle Challenger carry the first teacher, Christa McAuliffe, into space. We were speechless when the shuttle blew up at 46,000 feet. In February 2003, I watched the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster unfold as the spacecraft disintegrated on re-entry.

To say I was apprehensive watching the Artemis II mission launch to the moon would be an astronomical understatement. 

On April 1, NASA perched the Orion space capsule atop a 300-foot rocket, one of the most powerful ever built. It launched a team of four astronauts 250,000 miles away from Earth, the farthest humans have ever traveled, discounting alien abductions, of course. 

Unlike the catapulted station wagon that somehow got us to the moon during Apollo missions, Orion uses autonomous navigation and extreme precision, carrying astronauts beyond low-Earth orbit for the first time in more than 50 years, traveling at speeds up to 25,000 mph. 

It was the 10th manned moon exploration, or for conspiracy theorists, the 10th “faked” moon mission. The entire adventure was live-streamed so we could travel together.

Space exploration is equal parts wonder, technology and angst. During the 10-day moon trip, I endured galactic levels of anxiety. Launch sent my blood pressure soaring. My jaw clenched while they circled the moon on April 6, and my internal organs somersaulted during splashdown on April 10. 

I was hyperaware that dreams explode and rockets fall apart. 

Apollo missions were built on bravery, and America was racing to beat Russians to the moon. Now, Artemis is an international collaboration, one that should remind us we only survive this wild ride by working together.

In Greek mythology, Artemis is Apollo’s twin sister and goddess of the moon. It is an apt comparison: while the first moon missions had bro energy, the Artemis program continues the story in a wiser, more thoughtful way. 

Women play key roles in the Artemis program. Besides the first female to fly on a moon mission, there are female science officers, mission leads and launch directors. In fact, for the first time in NASA’s history, the current astronaut class has more women than men. 

If I could do math while enduring crushing g-forces and the stomach-dropping sensation of freefall, I would definitely have been in the space program. Instead, I appreciate the life of an astronaut from the comfort of my recliner. 

Apollo gave us “One giant leap,” Challenger dropped us to our knees and Artemis refocused our gaze. These missions remind us to look to the stars, but also look to our beautiful, blue planet. We only have each other. We should start acting like it.

As I approach my next birthday, one I hope I remember, I raise a glass to the dreamers, the heroes, to the brilliant engineers in mission control and the fearless astronauts who explore new paths. It reminds us that even when the story goes wrong, we need to keep looking up.

Peri Kinder is an award-winning columnist and journalist who has written for The City Journals since 2004. She also hosts the Life & Laughter podcast. Peri can be reached at [email protected].