I was born in 1965 so my memories of the 60s are sketchy but I remember Apollo 11. It was wall-to-wall Walter Cronkite around our rental house on West Blvd. in Columbia, Missouri. My father tried to explain the significance of the unfolding events to my four-year old brain. After the rocket launched I ran outside to look at the moon and to watch for the spacecraft as it approached the cratered surface. This prompted some chuckles from the family. I returned to the living room and resigned to watch the coverage on the television, not minding the fact that all we had for viewing was a black and white set; the moon was grey anyway.
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