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Apollo 8 has a moment. Fifty years after NASA launched the boldest bet in its history, this eclipsed stage of human exploration is the subject of books by Jeffrey Kluger and Robert Kurson, as well as a short award-winning documentary by filmmaker and musician Emmanuel Vaughan-Lee.
His timing could not be more perfect.
History takes us back to 1968 – the bitter and demoralizing nadir of the Vietnam War and a test of assassinations, riots, discredited rulers and broken policies. As part of the US space program, engineers feared that President John F. Kennedy's moving promise to go to the moon before 1970 was not honored – or, worse, that it was held by the Soviet Union. The gigantic Saturn V rocket has still not been proven, while the lunar dock encountered many technological hurdles.
At this dark moment, NASA 's George Low has proposed something extraordinary to the agency step by step: Cut out the game book. Take the parts of a lunar mission that seemed to be ready – perhaps ready, possibly ready – integrate them into a spacecraft and place them in lunar orbit by the end of the year.
There were so many question marks. No human has ever mounted a rocket as powerful as the Saturn V. No human has ever left Earth's orbit. No human had ever crossed the interplanetary space to be captured by the gravity of another world. And certainly, no human has ever done all this and returned home as an Ulysses of the space age.
The stakes were hopelessly high. A successful trip would prove the feasibility of the Apollo plan for a lunar landing. This would validate most of the necessary systems and explore the moon's terrain. But a failure could delay or even derail Apollo, and there were so many ways to fail. The crew could explode above the rocket, collapse in the moon or find themselves trapped in a lunar orbit, or escape to be cremated by the sun.
Three extraordinary astronauts volunteered for this risky venture, each combining the nerve skill of an ace driver with the disciplined brain of a scientist or advanced engineer. Steely Frank Borman commissioned the mission. Jovial James Lovell, who was later to safely bring home the damaged Apollo 13 spacecraft, was the navigator. Physicist William Anders piloted the control module. But with three men in a small ship a quarter of a mile away from safety, everyone had to master every aspect of the business.
Spoiler alert: They did it. Drawn by gravity at the blazing speed of some 40,000 km / h – the fastest humans ever traveled – they returned home in a fireball as their small spaceship climbed the atmosphere. Apollo 8 has been a triumph in all respects – a brilliant mix of invention, calculation, teamwork and courage. The astronauts have written a brave and optimistic end to a grim and hateful year.
But here's the thing that strikes me the most about this remembrance of a distant Christmas that I finally understand: Apollo 8 went exploring the Moon, but on the way, the mission rediscovered the Earth. For the first time, the eyes of man have ventured far enough to see our planet from what it really is: a miracle ending to the impossible, a delicate bubble of life and a meaning that turns through the cold and empty darkness of space.
Among the millions of people who, for thousands of years, had looked up and imagined floating among the stars, these three men were the first to experience it. And that opened their eyes to the harsh reality of space. When the Earth appeared, blue and white and smiling for the first time over the lunar horizon, they saw, as the god of Genesis, that it was good. Anders broke the picture. You saw it
The astronauts ended the Christmas Eve TV broadcast by reading the story of biblical creation while their camera was spinning towards the lunar night. This primitive elemental narrative of a living world – carved in darkness, thrown from the silent firmament – has never been so persuasive and so moving. To the list of achievements of Apollo 8, add this: No such deep action has ever been broadcast.
"What they should have sent are poets," said Borman, "because I do not think we have captured in full the grandeur of what we had seen."
I do not agree. The message went loud and clear. We only need to be reminded.
Locked in another bitter year, Apollo 8 still speaks to us, inviting us to dream great things and to dare great causes. And we also remember the lesson that we are fortunate enough to be here on a living planet in a vast, lifeless ocean. Fortunately to have company in a lonely galaxy. Called to take care of each other and this unlikely rescue boat that is our common focus.
David Von Drehle writes for the Washington Post, where this film was first published.
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