In 1957, a brilliant silver ornament streaked across the sky and my still young eyes could see what we learned was Sputnik, a Russian satellite.
The space race was on and many of us wanted to go to space, to know about physics, to fly if we could.
This was the new frontier, our own Wild West now tamed, that exploration concluded, we were setting out on the imaginary path implanted in our young minds by those old style black and white Buster Crabbe “Buck Rogers” flicks. But this was the real deal, we were really going to do it. Continue reading