Killing Apollo
Late on the night of Sunday, July 20, 1969, 125 million Americans, more than half the country’s population, were watching as astronaut Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the Moon. Crowds gathered in bars, restaurants, bowling alleys—any place with a television set; 93 percent of households tuned in. At Yankee Stadium, the home team and the Washington Senators paused play in the eighth inning so 33,000 fans could absorb the moment. Worldwide, some 650 million people watched the Moon landing, with millions more listening on the radio.
The Apollo 11 landing was more than a technological and operational achievement. Armstrong’s first steps on the Moon gave the United States something to celebrate in a year and a decade of frustration and upheaval. Amid racial unrest, a divisive war, and a string of assassinations, the landing reminded Americans of the nation’s ability to achieve great things.
Popular memory of the Apollo program has generated an image of Americans united by a common goal of sending countrymen safely to and from the Moon. In reality, Apollo was an extremely controversial undertaking that enjoyed majority support only once Armstrong and fellow astronaut Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin had landed on the Moon. In the years preceding, the program stirred bitter conflict among politicians, scientists, and the public, with skeptics arguing that the Moon race was a costly gimmick of scant scientific value that diverted attention and funding from genuine concerns. In fact, as Armstrong and Aldrin were hopping around on the lunar surface, President Richard Nixon was looking for ways to replace Apollo with more economical, less ambitious space projects. Even at the height of Apollo’s success, the program’s days were numbered.
“THE SOVIETS HAVE BEATEN US AT OUR OWN GAME,” SENATE MAJORITY LEADER LYNDON BAINES JOHNSON SAID, SCHEDULING HEARINGS ON SPACE.
tracked back to the space program’s earliest days. In, the world’s first man-made satellite, did little to change Eisenhower’s deliberate view.
