July 20, 1969 was another day when the whole world stopped.  I was five years old.  My dad was at home that day.  He used to work with the astronauts before they went up.  He worked  at The School of Aerospace Medicine at Brooks Air Force Base.  On weekends, we used to have people come over and my mom would cook and my dad would barbeque.  I used to play with my friend, Scotty.  He was an adult but always made time to play games with me or chase me around the back yard.  It wasn't until I was in high school that my mom showed me pictures of Scotty and myself when I was a critter.  Now, he wasn't just 'Scotty', he was Scott Carpenter, USMC, United States Astronaut.   

 

But today, no one was coming over.  I was disappointed cause I wanted to play with Scotty.  Oh well.  I don't remember if it was a weekday or a weekend.  I was five.  However I do remember that I was wearing cotton shorts that my mom had bought for me at Sears and my favorite red t-shirt but no shoes.  I hated shoes.  My mom called me in the kitchen to bring pick up a bowl of soup and take it to my dad who was sitting in the living room watching the coverage on ABC.  That was Channel 12, KSAT television in San Antonio, Texas.  They had just changed their call letters I remember, they used to be KONO.  It's funny what you remember.  

 

But anyway, I had a payload to deliver.  The TV was blaring in the background.  I was called into the kitchen.  My mother handed me a bowl of soup, 'Be careful, it's hot.  open you mouth," she said.  I did and she inserted sideways, a spoon wrapped in a paper napkin.  I was fully loaded, Houston and ready to go.   I had to get the soup to the table without spilling it.  So, very slowly I made tenuous steps across the wooden division between the kitchen and the living room and now onto the carpet. I was really concentrating, step-balance step-balance step -- ooo stop - balance. Okay, step-balance, step-balance...  And in the background you could hear the pops and whistles and garbled voices coming through the TV from so, so far away.

 

Meanwhile, while I was deep in thought making my way across the room over area rugs and other differentiations in the terrain, my Dad took his eyes off the television for a second  to view the 5 year-old's own little drama unfolding -- "Come on Columbia, you can do it."  He said and laughed.  My dad had this habit with me of going into falsetto when he spoke to me while I was engaged with either being or doing something even vaguely cute.  This is the prerogative of the father.   "Jaquelina, Christinita, pretty little girl, c'mon, c'mon.  Tha's-a-girl!"  He always made me laugh when he did that.  This was incredibly dangerous as his fooling was about to get us both soaked in my mother's famous chicken soup.  Even though I was now giggling uncontrollably, I was able to get all the way across the room and successfully delivered my payload to the reward of big wet kiss and pats on the head.  Success.

 

My dad took the bowl and I scurried away to sit down and have my lunch of  slices of bologna cut into different shapes and sizes thoughtfully and artistically presented  by my mother with a side dish of fiber-rich Doritos and an ice-cold glass of Tang.  My brother, Victor sat next to me.  I don't think we fought that day.  I imagine because our father was in the room.  

 

As they got closer my dad waved at me and I got up and climbed up into his lap.  "This is important, Jackson, watch real close now."  I looked at him and remembered seeing that he seemed a little nervous but confident that everything would be alright.  My sisters had been floating in and out of the room and my Dad called everyone into the living room.  The door to the backyard was open and the sun was spilling over the table where the television sat.  They got closer and closer and as they announced that the Eagle had landed, the whole room filled with whoops and cheering.  My Dad being the loudest.  I remember looking around at everyone wondering what the heck just happened.  My dad bounced me on his knee and I thought, 'Well, this is good.'  I started to laugh.  I knew it was important because my dad had said it was.  And now everyone was jumping up and down.  Those people that used to come over and play with me did something really special.  The whole world knew it and everyone stopped to watch my friends do this very special thing.  I didn't really know what it was but I was happy because everyone else was so happy.  I was only five.