Last man on the moon

The following story commemorates the 50th anniversary of NASA’s last manned mission to the moon on December 7, 1972.

The week after an unexpected snowstorm dumped nearly seven inches of white powder across southwestern Pennsylvania, Dad woke from his slumber when he heard the alarm clock ring out.

It was midnight.

After quickly turning off the obnoxious buzzer, the 32-year-old pulled down the covers before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to slide his feet into a pair of slippers.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” muttered Mom with a groggy voice while turning over to face her husband putting on his bathrobe. “Have fun with the boys; but try not to keep them up too long.”

“I don’t want them falling asleep in school tomorrow,” she added as her voice trailed off into measured breathing.

On his way out of the master bedroom, the devoted father checked on his one-year-old little girl in her crib as he placed the soft blanket back over the toddler caressing her blonde locks.

Once the tall clergyman gently closed the paneled door, he quickly walked into the living room before entering the bedroom of his rambunctious boys, who were soundly sleeping.

“All right, fellas,” stated the jovial young man while shaking the little nippers from their slumber. “It’s time to wake up because we have a top-secret assignment to do before the sun comes up.”

“What time is it,” I queried while rolling over in the twin bed squinting my blue eyes in an attempt to make out the shadowy figure. “Do we have to get up for school already cause I think I need to go back to sleep.”

“I’m still tired,” exclaimed seven-year-old John as he sat up rubbing his tired eyes with little fists. “I don’t think it’s morning yet cause it’s still dark outside.”

“Did you forget that quickly,” questioned the former high school quarterback as he squatted between our beds. “We’re going to go watch the rocket launch to the moon.”

As soon as these little whippersnappers heard those words, we immediately jumped from our beds and lavished the Bible scholar with lots of love as we grabbed on to his legs.

“If I had known that was going to be your reaction,” admitted Dad as we readied ourselves by putting on slippers and bathrobes. “I would’ve opened with that little tidbit.”

“Are you boys ready to watch the final launch of NASA’s (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) Apollo program,” he added while picking up this first grader before making our way into the family room to witness history.

Once the reverend turned on the black and white television console, he sat down in his tan recliner and allowed these little tykes to both climb on his knees as we sat back to watch the special fireworks display.

As this threesome settled in making ourselves more comfortable, the announcer was talking about the three astronauts making the historic expedition to the moon.

“The commander for the Apollo 17 mission is Eugene A. Cernan,” mentioned the commentator as individual photos of the trio flashed across the small screen.

“The command module pilot is Ronald E. Evans,” continued the news anchor as he wrapped up the short segment, “and the lunar module pilot, who is also a scientist, is Harrison H. Schmitt.”

When the television screen switched to the outdoor view of the launching pad following a short commercial break, it showed the 363-foot-tall Apollo 17 spacecraft all lit up sitting on Launch Pad A at Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, Florida as stated at the bottom of the television screen.

The news anchor stated that the three astronauts were now climbing into the lunar module Challenger, which was atop the Saturn V launch vehicle, as they made final preparations for the sixth and final lunar landing of the Apollo space program.

As the final countdown began, my brother and I escaped our father’s clutches and jumped down off his lap as we simultaneously joined in to help the news anchor fulfill his duties.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” whispered these minister’s boys as we could hardly contain ourselves when the spacecraft lifted off the ground at precisely 12:33 am on December 7, 1972. “Blast off!”

When smoke and fire discharged from the base of the rocket ship illuminating the darkness as it separated from the launching pad, we balled up our little hands and vigorously threw them into the air.

As quietly as we could, these little nippers jumped up and down grabbing on to each another with enthusiasm before hopping back up on the blond-haired minister’s lap to watch the rocket split apart.

Once the spacecraft made it up into the upper stratosphere, the first stage engines were extinguished as the propellants exhausted themselves and separated from the rest of the rocket falling back to earth burning up in the atmosphere.

Several minutes into the launch, the second stage engines were ignited, which carried the payload – lunar module Challenger – into the exosphere.

When the stage two engines extinguished themselves, rockets separated the Challenger and propelled it beyond the reaches of earth’s gravity into outer space as it glided on a path toward the moon.

The voice of the commanding officer for the Challenger lunar module came over the loudspeaker in the mission control room at the Kennedy Space Center.

“This is Captain James T. Kirk,” remarked Commander Eugene A. Cernan as his two companions snickered at the pre-planned prank. “These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise to boldly go where no man has gone before.”

This dynamic duo gleefully gave each other another high five as we joined the euphoria going on at the Kennedy Space Center, which celebrated the last successful launch to the moon.