the man on the moon

I remember exactly where I was when Neil Armstrong took his moon walk. Mr C and I were living in Oakland in a funky, falling apart Victorian hard by the side of the freeway. It was the day after Mr. C's birthday. We were glued to the tiny b/w TV we had, almost holding our breath lest something should go wrong. But, as we all know, it didn't. Forty three years later this quiet, self-described nerd and reluctant hero has quietly left us. I like this statement, made by his family:

 His family's statement Saturday made a simple request for anyone who wanted to remember him: 

"Honor his example of service, accomplishment and modesty, and the next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink."