Today I am thinking of forty years ago when the men landed on the moon.
I had been discharged from the Peace Corps about 10-14 days earlier. I flew with several friends from Rio to Lima where we spent a few days, then flew on to Cusco for another few days. We took a train to Machu Picchu. After returning to Lima, my friends went on to other places, while I flew to Mexico City for several days. Then I took a flight to Houston to visit a high school friend.
Connie had recently married. In her wedding photos were Neil Armstrong and some of the other astronauts, for Connie's father-in-law worked for NASA.
At her parents' home that night, everyone was excited about the moon landing. The day I arrived back in the U.S., July 20th, 1969, in Houston everyone was glued to their TV's watching the grainy black and white pictures of the astronauts. I was there, too, but after several weeks of travel, I could not keep my eyes open. I kept dozing off, then waking and trying to watch, only to drift off again within seconds. Eventually, sitting on a comfortable couch, I allowed my exhaustion to overtake me and slept through the broadcast.
Thus, I missed one of the big historical events of my lifetime. Those astronauts might as well have been walking on the dark side of the moon where no one could see them, for I saw almost nothing of the actual event and remember it only from news videos seen later.