Remembering a time of national pride

The anniversary of the moon landing brought up a wash of feelings.

In the summer of 1969 I was traveling in Greece, bumming around with a friend on the island of Rhodes.

We didn’t have detailed knowledge of the space program at the time, but the whole world, it seemed, was keenly interested in the moonshot. Even vacationers at the tiny seaside hotel where we were staying.

So it was on the morning of July 21. I remember so vividly descending the steps to breakfast and having the whole dining room erupt in applause, offering their congratulations in different languages. They applauded our country’s achievement.

I bought a paper at the local newsstand because I could read the Italian (not the Greek), and I have loved this front page ever since. The headline says “Moon, first step.”

I’ve seen other papers from that day, but none has stood out like this one.

It’s weathered now, but I’ve turned to it again this summer and felt the pride we all had in our country, pride that was shared by the people I met in Greece and Italy.

Because I think that sentiment is gone, and I miss it.