Doctor Grandma

Yes, I was alive, and I was old enough to remember it. Today is the 40th anniversary of the 1st landing on the moon by John Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and the other guy we never can remember the name of — Collins, who circled the moon and picked them back up. They actually walked on July 20th. Where was I? I was a 15-yr-old teenager in Indiana, on vacation from our home in PA., visiting relatives. I was actually in Fort Wayne, Indiana that day, at the home of my aunt & uncle, & cousins. The entire family gathered around the tv set for days. We did not have CNN and 24-hour news in those days. But we did that week. July 1969. One reason it is fixed in my mind, was that it was my last vacation with my father. Just after my 16th birthday, he died at the end of the next month, at 50 years of age, of a heart attack, on the night of my mom’s birthday. And my life changed forever.

We all know “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Buzz Aldrin said, when he stepped out, “Beautiful! Beautiful! Magnificent desolation.”

It doesn’t mean that much to me, to have us plant an American flag on the moon. Or even walk on the moon. But I love watching the stars, thinking about the illimitable space. The pics from the hubble space telescope — now THAT is something.

“Dost thou reckon thyself only a puny form, when within thee the universe is folded?” — Imam Ali. Quoted by Baha’u’llah in His book, The Seven Valleys.

When my kids were little, I put them into a summer camp that was predominantly African American. In my view, this accomplished 2 important things: 1) It was a high-quality, low-cost camp that gave my kids a happy summer experience with lots of sports activities, and 2) My white kids were able to interact and make close friendships with kids of non-white “races”.

What I did not expect was what happened at a local swimming pool and on field trips. At a local pool, the children in this camp were called racial names. Then my own children were asked, “Are you N’s too?” “What’s your name? Your last name is black? Then YOU are black! ha ha ha…” My kids were only having the experience that African American kids have every day in America.

On the way home from a field trip to Chicago, our bus pulled into a small town gas station to use the restroom and buy snacks. . We were on our way home from the Museum of Science and Industry. We were tired. The faces of workers in the gas station fell as about 50 mostly black and brown children loaded off of the bus. We were told the restroom facilities were broken. One of the black mothers on the trip actually decided to kick in the restroom door, which she accomplished, and found that the toilet facilities worked fine! It was an experience I will never forget.
–at that time in Indiana.