Note: We are running these memories of the moon landing sent by readers over the next several days.
In 1969, I was eight years old and living in San Juan Marcona, Peru (South America) with my parents. My father was a construction manager for a mine and we had been living there about three years. During the summer, my mother and I would come home here, to Tucson, for a couple of months.
We were on our way back down to Peru and ended up in Miami, Florida waiting on a flight out. It was late in the evening and my mom knew the moon landing and walk were going to be televised. She found a bar in the airport that had a TV up on the wall and we went in. Well, the bartender told her that “No kids were allowed in the bar!” My mom told him that she wanted me to watch a man walk on the moon and that they had the only TV available.
So, that’s how I (and several other kids whose parents had the same idea) ended up sitting in a bar in the Miami International Airport, drinking a Shirley Temple, and watched a man walk on the moon. I’ve never forgotten that.