As an 11 year old, excited by space adventure and, having followed the Apollo missions from the start (bedroom full of Airfix Rockets and a Lunar Lander to prove it) I eagerly awaited the launch of Apollo 11. As the moon landing date neared I realised that it would take place on my 12th birthday - July 20th 1969. I further realised that the whole adventure would be shown live on TV - albeit in Black and White.
We watched the early evening landing of the Lunar Module (about 8pm GMT).
Could I dare to hope that I would be allowed to stay up for the first moon walk scheduled for around 3.a.m?
Well, I could hope - and pray that this would be a birthday to remember.
But the parental answer was "NO".
Now, I was brought up to do what my parents said and so I missed it, the single most iconic event in my life to that point, and I missed it. Watching highlights on the news the next day did not replace the loss, much like knowing the scores before watching Match of the Day.
The moral of this story dear reader:
Don't hurt for 50 years, the only one it damages is yourself - especially as my Mum does not remember the incident at all.
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