July 20, 1969 was a warm summer day in the Washington region, perfect for picnics and outdoor recreation.  It also was the day that changed civilization forever, as Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin achieved what humans had dreamed of for millennia – walking on the moon.  That was more than 55 years ago, but the memory and national excitement about the feat still is very fresh. My date (we would get married the following year) and I decided to go to Burke Lake Park so he could do some fishing.  I packed a picnic lunch and my little transistor radio so we could listen to the broadcast of the moon landing.  For those too young to remember, the transistor radio was a small battery-operated radio that used new semiconductor technology rather than traditional vacuum tubes.  Not needing a plug or outlet and a little larger than a deck of cards or a bar of soap, the transistor radio meant music and news could accompany you anywhere. Very old school compared to devices today, but it was transformative for the time. 

There were other visitors in the park, and we sensed both excitement and fear.  Excitement for what might be, and fear for what might, or might not, happen. Fortunately, the moon landing came off as planned by NASA, and all of America breathed a sigh of relief.  Even Walter Cronkite, the “most trusted man in America” for his nightly anchoring of the CBS Evening News, was speechless when, later that evening, astronaut Armstrong stepped out of  lunar module “Eagle” onto the moon’s surface, uttering his famous “one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” comment. For a few days at least, America was united in celebrating mankind’s most significant scientific triumph at the time, but it wasn’t long before some people accused the government of conspiratorially manufacturing the landing in a movie studio. 

Overshadowed by the war in Iran and Mr. Trump’s unprecedented attendance at Supreme Court arguments about birthright citizenship, the April 1 launch of Artemis II may not have caught the attention of many, but those rocket lift-offs are mesmerizing.  The sheer power, the bone-shaking noise, the incendiary clouds of flame and smoke reflect decades of scientific research and development and billions of public and private dollars spent on expanding space travel.  It also reflected the bravery of the four-person crew who trained for the mission for years but also knew the dangers of space flight. Their reports back to Mission Control and the American people were filled with hope and more than a bit of awe about viewing Earth rise over the edge of the moon.  

The splashdown of the Integrity capsule into the Pacific Ocean near San Diego ten days later similarly awed those who watched it.  As in 1969, there was both excitement and fear for the crew as they hurtled at extraordinary speeds back into Earth’s atmosphere. Only when bright orange and white chutes deployed and gently guided the capsule into the three-foot waves did many breathe a little easier.  My daughter was transfixed and shouted “wow!” repeatedly.  That’s when I remembered that her experience with space flight was tinged by the tragedy of the Challenger explosion when she was in elementary school.  

The successful launch and return of Artemis II and Integrity brings back the positive curiosity that fueled previous generations. The poet Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886) wrote that “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.”  In Dickinson’s eyes, hope was a bird. Thankfully, the Integrity crew reinvigorated hope with a similar, but larger and more powerful, symbol at a time when hope, for many, seems elusive.