Love Is the Longest Farewell
Space, time, and what we do with what leaves us.
Some of you kids won’t know or remember, but there was a time when space was truly the final frontier—the place we all wanted to be, the place humans were destined to explore, to see what else was out there, to experience the fullness of what lay beyond the life and planet gifted to us by several supermassive cosmic miracles.
Perhaps you’ve heard (or imagined hearing) John F. Kennedy. Speaking at Rice University, on September 12, 1962, he proclaimed in full view of the world and his Soviet rivals:
“We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and the other things not because they are easy, but because they are hard.”
“Not because they are easy, but because they are hard.” So it was spoken; so it was done.
Escape Velocity
We launch moonshots. We were lucky if these worked even once. Building and piloting them took vision, careful assembly, and years of tireless labor. People gave their lives on Apollo 1, the Challenger, the Columbia, and elsewhere.
We also needed big, expensive rockets. They’re complex marvels; intricate assemblages of vision, engineering, ambition, foolishness, and sweat equity. They took years to make work…
