August 31, 2012
Neil Armstrong died last weekend. He was a great American and a hero for the entire world. I am old enough to remember the Apollo 11 and July 1969 vividly. I was 11 years old, a perfect age to have my imagination totally captured. Man was going to the Moon! The newspaper in my New Zealand hometown, The Evening Post, published a full page map of the moon so we could pinpoint the landing spot on the Sea of Tranquility. I think that map is still in a box at my parents' home.
Who doesn't recall the image of the footprint in the lunar dust and the words "one giant leap for mankind"? The accomplishment of the manned landing seems all the more extraordinary since the impetus came from an extravagant, outrageous pledge from a politician. President John F. Kennedy said we would put a man on the moon by the end of the 60's. That must have sounded like crazy talk in May 1961. Well, he had the audacity to dream it and the NASA engineers had the audacity to get it done. Oh, don't we wish that the mild promises made leading up to the November election will be accomplished so thoroughly.
Most of our students know little about Armstrong but they could learn something about the Xaverian value of humility from him. Of the entire human race, he was selected to take that first step, he got to say the words that would go into history. It would have been easy for him to return to Earth and jump on the gravy train of his celebrity. Instead he left NASA within a year to teach aerospace engineering at the University of Cincinnati and largely avoided the limelight. He carried himself with dignity and humility over the 43 years that followed.
We live in a society in which relatively unexceptional accomplishments are often greeted with fanfare. Armstrong was a man able to accept his own giftedness and acknowledge the giftedness of others. He became an iconic figure, a source of unity in tumultuous times: Vietnam, Woodstock, Chappaquiddick. Armstrong may have been uniquely accomplished (even the great John Glenn said he was envious) but he always seemed to be an approachable, regular guy. He remained proud of what he and his fellow astronauts had accomplished while modestly describing himself as just a "white socks, pocket protector, nerdy engineer," someone interested in working with others to advance knowledge. That seems to me to tell us a lot about what humility looks like.
Rest in peace, John Glenn.