Neil Armstrong No boundaries
Posted on Sep 04, 2012 in Features
The world’s hero, Neil Armstrong died last week from complications stemming from a recent heart surgery. He was 82. He left behind his two sons, Rick and Mark and his second wife Carol, all of whom claim the man hung the moon himself.
It is not very often, once in a blue moon perhaps, when someone you always hoped to meet dies before you get the chance to do so. The passing of one of America’s heroes on August 25 was one of those days for a lot of us I am sure. Even now as I am writing this the moon is hanging low and blue, saddened by the loss of someone who dared to touch it first. Neil was a man who knew no boundaries and certainly didn’t waste a single heartbeat of his time here on Earth—or the moon for that matter.
It’s not very often, once every other generation maybe, that a person has the ability to leave the world in awe, seven billion jaws dropping in unison. Neil Armstrong was a man who every boy hoped to be one day. Cardboard box Apollo rockets, starry nights, the man on the moon, all remind us of what exactly Neil Armstrong did. And the greatest and most heroic thing about him is that to his dying day, he claimed no ownership for his accomplishment. But rather, he said he did it for all of us. He placed the bar on the moon for all men and women after him to try and reach. And for that we should all be grateful.
Neil Armstrong was not like many other people who become shackled with worldwide fame and recognition. No, Neil was different. He never gloated, rarely spoke about his achievements, and played the whole “Oh Yeah? I walked on the Moon,” card very close to the chest.
To his grave, he took with him one of the most highly coveted jewels in one upmanship. “That’s cool Gary…Hey remember when I walked on the moon?” Neil was a great guy.
I am still saddened by the loss of my childhood hero as I sit here and type his obituary, all while the moon still hangs low and blue. Fitting that tonight, the night of his funeral, even the moon looks sad. But I guess there is solace in the fact knowing that he died with his legacy still firmly intact.
Too often do our heroes outlive their legacy—but not Neil. He was among the special few, the chosen ones who show the rest of humanity that we are capable of the most preposterous of challenges. Neil’s memory makes me proud to be human. How many people can you say that about?
So with that, I raise my glass to the big blue moon–still hanging sad and low — and remember the man who went to that desolate rock way up there, took a look around, and came home to tell us that anything is possible.
Cody Owens
Staff writer
cjowens@uab.edu