Today marks the 40th anniversary of man's landing on the moon. I've been reading and watching a lot of testimonials from people who remember where they were, and what they were thinking, and I've been trying to remember my own reactions. I know I watched it; my dad brought me into the Florida room (in the south, a small room off to the side where the family hung out and kids played, as opposed to the living room, which was for company) and we watched it happen.

I guess. I was 4, and I can't say for sure I remember it.I've seen the footage so many times now that I can't separate that from my real memories.

I do remember the Apollo missions, though. I kept track of them, every one, and acted them out with my plastic Apollo rocket toy with real detachable lunar module and tiny plastic astronauts. And I never missed feeling a launch.

Not watching; I was usually in school when they went up. But the teachers would bring us all out to the playground and wait for the signal. And there, 80 miles north of Cape Kennedy, we saw a star leave the earth with its smoke trailing behind, and then we felt it. A rolling, powerful BOOM from the south that shook windows, pushed against our skin, and ripped through the trembling ground under our feet to let us know that once again, man had shoved the earth hard enough to get away for awhile.

Shuttle launches, while impressive, simply aren't on the same scale. Saw one go up last week, in fact, as we were driving in Oveido and we spotted it through the car windows. We didn't even pull over.

Landing on the moon was a triumph of intelligence, Commie paranoia, and bullheadedness that may never be equaled. But I hope we go back. And I hope there are more booms, to inspire our kids.