I vividly recall the space race. In 1961, Nikita Khrushchev’s USSR put a man in space and the US wanted to be the first to do something, so we tried to be the first to orbit the earth. John Glenn, one the seven original Mercury Astronauts, was chosen to do it. Although he was the third American to actually go into space, he was hailed as the hero who would put us ahead of the Soviet Union, whom we all feared and hated at the time. There was a small 20 inch black and white TV in the first grade classroom at the George S. Ball School. The entire school went into that room around 9:30 Tuesday, February 20, 1962 to see the launch. We all cheered when the huge Atlas rocket roared up into the air at Cape Canaveral, Florida. We reconvened around 2:30 when they confirmed they found the spacecraft and John Glenn was safe. Back in those days, one-man Mercury capsules entered the atmosphere by themselves. Once the spacecraft safety fell to a certain altitude, a parachute would drop them safely into the water where a helicopter would spot them, pluck them out of the water, and take them to a nearby ship. I loved watching events like this. The boats, the copters, the space suits, the news broadcasts, the countdown, but most importantly the bravery these young men had is still unfathomable to me. The Right Stuff and Apollo 13 are still some of my favorite films. So John Glenn was probably my very first hero figure. I sent him a fan letter, the only one I ever sent in my life, and received an autographed picture in the mail. On Thursday, March 1st, we went into the same room to see his ticker tape parade from Manhatten. It was a great time to be an American!

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