..."I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you"...
July, 1969, I had recently graduated from high school and me and my buddy Jerry were standing out in the street outside of St. Louis, Mo., staring up at what I seem to remember to be a full moon. Jerry was my best friend, we graduated together, our lives layed out ahead of us, and here we were, staring up at the moon at 9 o'clock at night.
I remarked how amazing it was to think about a man walking on the moon for the first time in human history, an impossible dream, now real. I'd read science fiction all my young life, and this was sci-fi made real, a man, on the moon, it seemed anything was possible now, any human goal achievable, I was flat out amazed, and I was getting goose bumps and I was in a sort of trance just thinking about it while looking at the moon, which seemed brighter than I'd ever seen it.
Jerry's reaction was different than mine. He said he couldn't quite make himself believe it. It didn't seem possible to him. I'm sure he had other things on his mind besides the moon. He and I had recently been drafted into the Army, my number came up, his too. I was classified 1-Y, the Army wouldn't have me, I'd had polio as a baby, but they took Jerry, and he was scheduled to ship out to Viet Nam in two weeks.
Jerry went to Viet Nam, and he and I communicated through the new technology of cassette tapes. I got a few from him, saying he supported the war and it's cause, then the tapes stopped. I told him that I'd become a war protester, and he was disappointed in me. I told him I wanted the war to end and for him to come home. He never did. Him and 58,000 others.
To this day, I can't look at that beautiful old moon without thinking of that brave young man, Neil Armstrong, and that other brave young man, Jerry.
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you
= new reply since forum marked as read
for your memories and Jerry and this beautiful post.
