On a warm summer night in July of 1969 , my wife, Lily, her boss, Hy, his son , Carl, and I enjoyed a game of miniature golf in Denver where I was finishing up college. After the golf, we went back to Hy's apartment to watch what all Americans had hoped would be a successful moon landing. It was high drama.
Only about 7 months before, Lily and I were home for Christmas, and while we were visiting my grandparents, we got to see a live telecast of the first scenes of the moon shown from Apollo 8. These were very exciting times for all Americans, watching our astronauts do things and show us images from space that we could only imagine months before.
These days it's all "ho-hum," with real talk of civilians going for rides into space within a few years. But back then the space program had failures and deaths; nothing was guaranteed to succeed.
So that first moon landing was a sight to behold. Imagine being a witness to Columbus stepping onto the shores of what would become the Americas. Yeah, that's what it was like . . . right in Hy Datz's living room.