I vividly remember that first mystical experience with the space craft. It took place back in 1961. Mrs. Smith brought her television into our first grade class at Bayless elementary. Something unique and dazzling took place that beautiful morning. A man, a real man, far away in TV land perhaps, yet a real genuine astronaut, the kind we followed on Saturday Morning B flicks, was about to launch into space. Mrs. Smith let us take the day off from our regular routine so we might witness this historic event. We didn't mind. Anything to get out of doing school work. Yuck!
This man, this surreal astronaut became our hero. They said his name was Alan Shepard. Mr. Shepard created a new heroic ideal that exciting day in May of 61. Boys who wanted to be baseball players, doctors, and lawyers now added astronaut to their list of noble ambitions. And, so we watched-year after year, decade after decade, while little boys and girls grew up to discover dreams really can come true. The brightest and fittest could become astronauts.
Now the dream is over. Perhaps our grandchildren may one day reintroduce the dream. In the mean time we former dreamers must go back to our Robert Heinlein sci-fi novels and let them take us away once again to a place far, far away.
Michael Ramirez offers us a sort of parting goodbye to the space travel phenomenon; a right of passage you might say; a funeral.









