An Apollo 11 Scrapbook

Some of the pages from the Apollo 11 scrapbook I made when I was twelve.

My Grandma Newvine would save clippings from local newspapers and put them into scrapbooks back in the 1960s and 1970s.

That’s where I got the idea, when I was twelve years old, to collect stories about the mission of Apollo 11 that took Americans to the moon.

Back then, scrapbooks were nothing like what you might see now at a local crafts store.

The scrapbooks from my grandmother’s era were made with thick construction paper and cardboard covers. No stickers or 3-D accruements from the hobby store.

My scrapbook from 1969 includes articles from the days leading up to the launch from the Kennedy Space Center and into the first days of the mission.

All the clippings were from our daily newspaper from northern New York State: the Watertown Daily Times.

The Times arrived every evening, hand delivered by our paperboy.

The newspaper price in 1969 was ten cents.

Sprinkled among the clippings in my space scrapbook are articles about the preparations for the historic launch. There are several stories about the first two days of the mission as the astronauts were heading to the landing spot named the Sea of Tranquility.

Aldrin family Caption: Photos clipped from newspapers featuring Astronaut Buzz Aldrin and family.

There are plenty of sidebar stories.

I clipped pictures with captions featuring Buzz Aldrin and his family. There’s a photo of his son with a caption suggesting that the young boy may be the most popular child in school.

Barbara Aldrin, the wife of Buzz, is shown in a photo unfurling the American flag. Buzz is highlighted from a demonstration the astronauts did inside the orbiter midway to the moon.

I wonder whether I just favored features about Buzz Aldrin, or whether Neil Armstrong, who was noted for his desire for privacy, asked NASA to downplay stories about his family to the media.

There’s a small glossary of acronyms NASA used throughout the mission. In the days long before computer graphics, the paper had artist renderings of how the lunar module would separate from the command module for the moon landing and subsequent rejoining of the mother vehicle.

President Nixon’s phone call to the astronauts is the subject of one of the clippings, and there’s a story that reports NASA may move the actual first steps on the moon from 2:21 AM Eastern Time on Monday, July 21, back to a more viewer friendly time on Sunday evening.

And that takes me back to Sunday July 20, 1969

Newspaper diagrams of the Apollo 11 landing.

My family had planned to spend the better part of that Sunday evening at the Port Leyden Firemens Field Days in my hometown. The mix of rides, games, and carnival food was a big part of the summertime tradition.

When we learned the actual walk on the lunar surface would take place on Sunday evening, the Newvine family left the field days earlier than in previous years.

We went home, gathered around our television set, and watched the coverage.

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

Neil Armstrong’s words were about as clear as a voice on a long-distance phone call. The image of his stepping on the lunar surface was hard to make out in black and white. But there was no doubt both Armstrong and Aldrin made it.

Astronaut Mike Collins orbited the moon until it was time for Neil and Buzz to reconnect and head home.

I couldn’t wait for the next day’s newspaper to arrive so that I could begin clipping the stories of the moonshot.

There is was in glorious black and white: mankind’s great achievement. We were eyewitnesses.

Photos from the local newspaper that were clipped for my Apollo 11 scrapbook.

The scrapbook stayed with me for all the moves made after I graduated from college and went out on my own.

The covers were lost somewhere over the past five decades. The scotch tape that held the clippings had long lost its’ stickiness. The pages from the actual landing and subsequent return to Earth are missing.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll never forget how the US race-to-the-moon ended.

The scrapbook was my “Google” of the moonshot several decades before we ever heard of search engines.

The Apollo scrapbook belongs to me, but the idea of keeping up a collection of articles about this historical event came from my Grandma Newvine.

Thank you Grandma.

Steve Newvine lives in Merced.

He wrote two books about his hometown of Port Leyden New York: Growing Up, Upstate and Grown Up, Going Home. Both are available at Lulu.com

Sidelined by a Sidewalk- How a Simple Fall is Taking Me Off Track This Summer

Where my fall took place in north Merced.

I won’t be playing golf for a while.

A fall on a north Merced sidewalk on a recent summer Sunday morning has taken my activity down a few notches.

There we were: one moment taking in the serenity of a walk together. The next moment changed everything.

Immediately upon hitting the ground, pain shot up from my foot to my hip. I felt numbness in the first minutes following the fall.

The thought that I might suffer some paralysis actually crossed my mind.

My wife was with me and as soon as she felt I could be left alone, she went back to our house to get a car. By the time she returned ten minutes later, I was standing and walking slowly.

During the wait, three motorists passed by me as I was writhing in pain.

No one stopped.

She took me home, and took care of me for the next couple of days. Slowly, walking became easier.

After a couple days rest, some over-the-counter pain relief medication, and treatments of heat and cold to my upper leg, my doctor confirmed our earlier diagnosis.

I suffered a severe sprain of the upper thigh.

But for the next few weeks, I am what you might call sidelined. No daily runs in the morning Merced sun.

Golf might resume when it stops hurting as I take my driver stance. I resumed work after a day-and-a-half sick time. I hate taking sick time.

This longer shot of the street shows at least two other spots where excessive water may pose a safety issue.

It’s easy to blame myself for not being fully aware of my surroundings.

I slipped on a light layer of sidewalk mud before several years ago. While the earlier fall was not nearly as severe as this latest one, I dropped my guard and did not anticipate a safety hazard.

Whoever is responsible for watering that particular section of grass should share some responsibility. There are no homes directly on the street, but rather a cul-de-sac divided by a wall.

According to the City of Merced, watering is permitted on Sundays. Their website reads: “Addresses ending in even numbers may water on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Addresses ending in odd numbers may water on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Watering is allowed before 9 a.m. and/or after 9 p.m. on those days.” The houses across the street had odd numbers.

That would make the side I was on the even side; meaning the sprinklers should not have been on.

But regardless of whether this was the correct day use irrigation, the water in this section was clearly on longer than it needed to be. If mud forms on the sidewalk, water may be forcing dirt from the grass to the pavement.

No one is suing anybody. I hope to continue making progress so that I can eventually resume my daily runs and weekly golf outings.

I sent an email to the City telling them about my concerns. I got a prompt response telling me they would look into it.

They followed up a few days later.

They also directed me to a new app called Merced Connect, available at Google or Apple Playstore, where citizens can report things like the water issue and follow the progress on these issues.

But I urge everyone to check into areas where irrigation systems push dirt onto sidewalks. Adjust the watering times if necessary. Be a good neighbor.

I’ve already forgiven whoever was responsible, especially me. I’ve also forgiven the three motorists who passed by me when I was on the ground and nearly in tears with pain from that fall.

And every morning, I get into my golf stance. Once I can swing without pain, I’m back on the golf course.

It’s safer there.

Steve Newvine lives in Merced.

His murder mystery Ten Minutes to Air is available at Lulu.com