When I was growing up in the early 1960s, mankind‚Äôs march of progress was visible everywhere, but perhaps nowhere more so than in space.
We listened to a young president speak of putting a man on the moon, not because it was easy, but because it was difficult. We set aside our school books on another day to watch John Glenn orbit the Earth and splash down in the sea.
Then came the day when Neil Armstrong became the first human to set foot on the moon.
We marveled at the first space shuttle being launched into space and we were sad to know that Christa McAuliffe died with the rest of the crew when the rocket they were atop exploded and fell to Earth.
But I have to say that I was stunned to learn that my grandchildren here in Santa Monica were not taken out to the playground last week to watch yet another historic event happening right over their very heads when a 747 carried a space shuttle to Los Angeles (“Pier packed for Endeavour,” Sept. 21)!
I hesitate to write that I have to wonder why this happened in a town where this phony battle to close the airport is going on, but I cannot come up with any other reason the children of this school district were not made witnesses to history if not to discourage their imagination in order to not offend the anti-airport crowd.