Frank Beacham's Journal

On Sept. 20, 1963 — 58 years ago —an optimistic and upbeat President John F. Kennedy suggested that the Soviet Union and the United States cooperate on a mission to mount an expedition to the moon. The Soviets and many Americans were caught off guard

On Sept. 20, 1963 — 58 years ago —an optimistic and upbeat President John F. Kennedy suggested that the Soviet Union and the United States cooperate on a mission to mount an expedition to the moon. The proposal caught both the Soviets and many Americans off guard.

In 1961, shortly after his election as president, John F. Kennedy announced that he was determined to win the "space race" with the Soviets. Since 1957, when the Soviet Union sent a small satellite — Sputnik — into orbit around the earth, Russian and American scientists had been competing to see who could make the next breakthrough in space travel.

Outer space became another frontier in the Cold War. Kennedy upped the ante in 1961 when he announced that the United States would put a man on the moon before the end of the decade. Much had changed by 1963, however.

Relations with the Soviet Union had improved measurably. The Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962 had been settled peacefully. A "hot line" had been established between Washington and Moscow to help avert conflict and misunderstandings. A treaty banning the open air testing of nuclear weapons had been signed in 1963.

On the other hand, U.S. fascination with the space program was waning. Opponents of the program cited the high cost of the proposed trip to the moon, estimated at more than $20 billion.

In the midst of all of this, Kennedy, in a speech at the United Nations, proposed that the Soviet Union and United States cooperate in mounting a mission to the moon. "Why," he asked the audience, "should man's first flight to the moon be a matter of national competition?"

Kennedy noted "the clouds have lifted a little" in terms of U.S.-Soviet relations. "The Soviet Union and the United States, together with their allies, can achieve further agreements — agreements which spring from our mutual interest in avoiding mutual destruction," Kennedy said.

Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko applauded Kennedy's speech and called it a "good sign," but refused to comment on the proposal for a joint trip to the moon. In Washington, there was a good bit of surprise — and some skepticism — about Kennedy's proposal.

The "space race" had been one of the focal points of the Kennedy administration when it came to office, and the idea that America would cooperate with the Soviets in sending a man to the moon seemed unbelievable. Other commentators saw economics, not politics, behind the proposal.

With the soaring price tag for the lunar mission, perhaps a joint effort with the Soviets was the only way to save the costly program. What might have come of Kennedy's idea is unknown — just two months later, he was assassinated in Dallas.

His successor, Lyndon B. Johnson, abandoned the idea of cooperating with the Soviets but pushed ahead with the lunar program. In 1969, the United States landed the first men on the moon, thus winning a significant victory the "space race."

Thanks History.com

Above, Sputnik digital artwork by Erik Simonsen

On this day in 1964 — 57 years ago — Ranger 7, an unmanned U.S. lunar probe, took the first close-up images of the moon

On this day in 1964 — 57 years ago — Ranger 7, an unmanned U.S. lunar probe, took the first close-up images of the moon.

The probe took 4,308 images before it impacted with the lunar surface northwest of the Sea of the Clouds. The images were 1,000 times as clear as anything previously seen through earth-bound telescopes.

NASA had attempted a similar mission earlier in the year — Ranger 6 — but the probe's cameras had failed as it descended to the lunar surface.

Ranger 7, launched from Earth on July 28, 1964, successfully activated its cameras 17 minutes, or 1,300 miles, before impact and began beaming the images back to NASA's receiving station in California.

The pictures showed that the lunar surface was not excessively dusty or otherwise treacherous to a potential spacecraft landing, thus lending encouragement to the NASA plan to send astronauts to the moon.

In July, 1969, two Americans walked on the moon in the first Apollo Program lunar landing mission.

Thanks History.com

The first image of the moon sent by Ranger 7, July 31, 1964

Amelia Earhart was born 124 years ago today

Amelia Earhart was born 124 years ago today.

An aviation pioneer and author, Earhart was the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. She received the U.S. Distinguished Flying Cross for this record. Earhart set many other records, wrote best-selling books about her flying experiences and was instrumental in the formation of The Ninety-Nines, an organization for female pilots.

Earhart joined the faculty of the Purdue University aviation department in 1935 as a visiting faculty member to counsel women on careers and help inspire others with her love for aviation. She was also a member of the National Woman's Party, and an early supporter of the Equal Rights Amendment.

During an attempt to make a circumnavigational flight of the globe in 1937 in a Purdue-funded Lockheed Model 10 Electra, Earhart disappeared over the central Pacific Ocean near Howland Island.

There are many theories of how and why Earhart died. Though there is much evidence on various stories, so there has been no provable link to definitively settle the issue.

Fascination with Earhart’s life, career and disappearance continues.

Fifty two ago today — at 10:56 p.m. EDT — American astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon

Fifty two ago today — at 10:56 p.m. EDT — American astronaut Neil Armstrong, 240,000 miles from Earth, spoke these words to more than a billion people listening at home:

"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

Stepping off the lunar landing module Eagle, Armstrong became the first human to walk on the surface of the moon.

The American effort to send astronauts to the moon has its origins in a famous appeal President John F. Kennedy made to a special joint session of Congress on May 25, 1961: "I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to Earth."

At the time, the United States was still trailing the Soviet Union in space developments, and Cold War-era America welcomed Kennedy's bold proposal.

In 1966, after five years of work by an international team of scientists and engineers, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) conducted the first unmanned Apollo mission, testing the structural integrity of the proposed launch vehicle and spacecraft combination.

Then, on January 27, 1967, tragedy struck at Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, Florida, when a fire broke out during a manned launch-pad test of the Apollo spacecraft and Saturn rocket. Three astronauts were killed in the fire.

Despite the setback, NASA and its thousands of employees forged ahead, and in October 1968, Apollo 7, the first manned Apollo mission, orbited Earth and successfully tested many of the sophisticated systems needed to conduct a moon journey and landing.

In December of the same year, Apollo 8 took three astronauts to the dark side of the moon and back, and in March, 1969 Apollo 9 tested the lunar module for the first time while in Earth orbit. Then in May, the three astronauts of Apollo 10 took the first complete Apollo spacecraft around the moon in a dry run for the scheduled July landing mission.

At 9:32 a.m. on July 16, with the world watching, Apollo 11 took off from Kennedy Space Center with astronauts Neil Armstrong, Edwin Aldrin Jr., and Michael Collins aboard.

Armstrong, a 38-year-old civilian research pilot, was the commander of the mission. After traveling 240,000 miles in 76 hours, Apollo 11 entered into a lunar orbit on July 19. The next day, at 1:46 p.m., the lunar module Eagle, manned by Armstrong and Aldrin, separated from the command module, where Collins remained.

Two hours later, the Eagle began its descent to the lunar surface, and at 4:18 p.m. the craft touched down on the southwestern edge of the Sea of Tranquility. Armstrong immediately radioed to Mission Control in Houston, Texas, a famous message: "The Eagle has landed."

At 10:39 p.m., five hours ahead of the original schedule, Armstrong opened the hatch of the lunar module.

As he made his way down the lunar module's ladder, a television camera attached to the craft recorded his progress and beamed the signal back to Earth, where hundreds of millions watched in great anticipation.

At 10:56 p.m., Armstrong spoke his famous quote, which he later contended was slightly garbled by his microphone and meant to be "that's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind." He then planted his left foot on the gray, powdery surface, took a cautious step forward and the first human had walked on the moon.

Buzz Aldrin joined him on the moon's surface at 11:11 p.m., and together they took photographs of the terrain, planted a U.S. flag, ran a few simple scientific tests, and spoke with President Richard M. Nixon via Houston.

By 1:11 a.m. on July 21, both astronauts were back in the lunar module and the hatch was closed. The two men slept that night on the surface of the moon, and at 1:54 p.m. the Eagle began its ascent back to the command module.

Among the items left on the surface of the moon was a plaque that read: "Here men from the planet Earth first set foot on the moon — July, 1969 A.D. — We came in peace for all mankind."

At 5:35 p.m., Armstrong and Aldrin successfully docked and rejoined Collins, and at 12:56 a.m. on July 22 Apollo 11 began its journey home. It safely splashed down in the Pacific Ocean at 12:51 p.m. on July 24.

There would be five more successful lunar landing missions, and one unplanned lunar swing-by, Apollo 13. The last men to walk on the moon, astronauts Eugene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt of the Apollo 17 mission, left the lunar surface on December 14, 1972.

The Apollo program was a costly and labor intensive endeavor, involving an estimated 400,000 engineers, technicians and scientists. It cost $24 billion (close to $100 billion in today's dollars).

The expense was justified by Kennedy's 1961 mandate to beat the Soviets to the moon. After the feat was accomplished, ongoing missions lost their viability.

Thanks History.com

Neil Armstrong on the surface of the moon

Buzz Aldren steps onto the surface of the moon

Photo by Neil Armstrong

John Glenn was born 100 years ago today

John Glenn entering the Friendship 7 spacecraft in 1962

John Glenn was born 100 years ago today.

Glenn, the first American to orbit the Earth and the fifth person in outer space, was a retired United States Marine Corps pilot, astronaut and United States senator.

After cosmonauts Yuri Gagarin and Gherman Titov and fellow Mercury Seven astronauts, Alan Shepard and Gus Grissom, Glenn orbited the Earth three times in the Friendship 7 mission on February 20, 1962.

A combat aviator in the Marine Corps and one of the Mercury Seven, he was one of the elite U.S. military test pilots selected by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) to operate the experimental Mercury spacecraft and become the first American astronauts.

In 1965, Glenn retired from the military and resigned from NASA so he could be eligible to stand for election to public office. As a member of the Democratic Party, he was elected to represent Ohio in the U.S. Senate from 1974 to 1999.

Glenn received a Congressional Space Medal of Honor in 1978, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2012. He was inducted into the Astronaut Hall of Fame in 1990.

On October 29, 1998, he became the oldest person to fly in space and the only one to fly in both the Mercury and Space Shuttle programs. At age 77, he flew on Space Shuttle Discovery (STS-95).

Glenn was the last living member of the Mercury Seven astronauts. He died at age 95 on December 8, 2016.

A personal remembrance of the day the first astronauts went to the moon

Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldren and Michael Collins enter the Astrovan for the trip to launch pad for the first trip to the moon

Photo by Frank Beacham

On this day in 1969 — 52 years ago today — Apollo 11 was launched at 9:32 a.m. from Cape Canaveral, Florida, on the first historic journey to the surface of the moon.

I was there and here is a personal remembrance.

Armed with a letter from NASA promising a press pass, I waited in the credentials line at the Kennedy Space Center. Next to me was a writer, who introduced himself as Norman Mailer.

We sipped coffee and talked excitedly about the events we were about to experience. Mailer told me he was working on a new book, to be called “Of a Fire on the Moon.” The line moved along quickly.

I was just a 21-year-old kid who wrote to NASA asking for a press pass. I wasn’t reporting for anyone at the time. I just wanted to be there, sensing how important it was to land the first men on the moon. Once I got my credential, I could roam around the space center at will.

In 1969, “security” was a foreign concept. With a press pass — which was free for the asking — one could go practically anywhere. There were no guards in uniforms blocking your way. The times were very different in those days.

The excitement over the first moon launch permeated the night air. No one even thought of sleeping. During the early hours of July 16, I was offered a ride by NASA to the base of the Saturn V rocket that was to take Apollo 11 to the moon. I took it.

The rocket was massive and I looked straight up, as if standing at the base of a skyscraper lit at night. Steam was billowing from the massive beast, giving this gigantic glowing white cylinder the aura of being alive. Standing that close to the vibrating Saturn V gave me chills. I felt it deep in my bones.

Between five and six in the morning, the astronauts had suited up and were about to exit their quarters for the ride to the launchpad. I was nearby. So close, in fact, I could almost reach out and touch them. Just before sunrise, the door opened and the astronauts — in their white space suits — walked to the “Astrovan” for the short ride to the Saturn V. I excitedly snapped photos as they slowly moved past me.

Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins climbed into the van and drove off. In less than four hours they would be on their way to the moon.

Next, I headed over to the VIP viewing area. Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon were already there. I waved to the governor from my home state. There were lots of politicians, the vice president and a former president in the stands. It was a who’s who of celebrities and government officials. This was clearly the place to be.

After a while, I went over to the press area. There, I watched Walter Cronkite in the movable CBS studio erected to televise the launch. I then wandered around some more, talking to photographers, cinematographers, reporters and just about anyone else who had come to the launch. It was a very casual scene — a bit like the atmosphere at a rock festival.

The countdown finally began. At exactly 9:32 a.m. the bright sky lit up even more, the ground under us rumbled and the Saturn V slowly lifted Apollo 11 toward the moon. I snapped away. It would be several more days before we’d know whether the mission was a success. But I already sensed that history was being made on this day.

After the launch, I walked to my car to leave the Kennedy Space Center. I was now deeply tired and needed some sleep. But, suddenly, it hit me that I didn’t have a souvenir of the day. Nothing but my photos. There were no souvenirs anywhere to buy. I looked up in front of me and there was this metal sign that said “Moon Parking — $2.00” mounted on a pole.

I stopped, grabbed the 36 x 36-inch sign and put it in the trunk of my car. I kept it nearly 50 years. As time went by, it took on new meaning. It was a tangible remembrance of that incredibly special day. And, over the years, I marveled at how little it cost to park at one of the most iconic events of the 20th century.

A few days later, on July 20, Neal Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon. Buzz Aldrin joined him 20 minutes later. It was then, and after their safe arrival back to Earth, that it finally hit me what had happened that morning at the Kennedy Space Center.

I still don’t believe how lucky I was to witness it.

Buzz Aldren heads to the moon

Photo by Frank Beacham

Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon in the middle sitting together to view the launch from the VIP seating area at the Kennedy Space Center

Photo by Frank Beacham

Liftoff of Apollo 11

Photo by Frank Beacham

Me at the Kennedy Space Center prior to the launch

After the launch on July 16, 1969, I went to my car to leave the Kennedy Space Center. It hit me as I pulled out that I didn’t have a souvenir of the launch.

I looked up and there was this metal “Moon Parking” sign.

I stopped, grabbed the 36 x 36-inch sign and put in the trunk of my car. I kept it through the years.

On July 10, 1938, Howard Hughes left Brooklyn in a twin-engine Lockheed in a bid for the fastest round-the-world flight. Four days of breathless coverage ensued

Long before his days as the world’s most famous recluse, Howard Hughes flew planes fast and far.

On July 10, 1938, he left Brooklyn in a twin-engine Lockheed in a bid for the fastest round-the-world flight. Four days of breathless coverage ensued.

“Hughes Over Ocean on Flight to Paris; Fuel Is Going Fast,” read The Times’s headline. “‘Hope We Have Enough Gas to Reach Land’.”

“Reich’s Orders Slow Flight to Moscow; Force Hughes to High Altitude, Cutting His Speed Greatly.”

“Hughes Roars Over Siberia After Moscow-Omsk Hop.”

And then, on July 14, 1939 — 82 years ago today — The New York Times reported:

“Five weary-eyed men with bearded faces and clothing that was soiled and wrinkled stepped from an airplane of unblemished sheen into a bedlam of noise and confusion at Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn.”

Hughes had the record: 3 days 19 hours 17 minutes.

On July 2, 1937 — 84 years ago today — the Lockheed aircraft carrying American aviator, Amelia Earhart, and navigator, Frederick Noonan, was reported missing near Howland Island in the Pacific

On July 2, 1937 — 84 years ago today — the Lockheed aircraft carrying American aviator, Amelia Earhart, and navigator, Frederick Noonan, was reported missing near Howland Island in the Pacific.

The pair were attempting to fly around the world when they lost their bearings during the most challenging leg of the global journey: Lae, New Guinea, to Howland Island — a tiny island 2,227 nautical miles away in the center of the Pacific Ocean.

The U.S. Coast Guard cutter, Itasca, was in sporadic radio contact with Earhart as she approached Howland Island and received messages that she was lost and running low on fuel. Soon after, she probably tried to ditch the Lockheed in the ocean. No trace of Earhart or Noonan was ever found.

Born in Atchison, Kansas, in 1897, Amelia Earhart took up aviation at the age of 24 and later gained publicity as one of the earliest female aviators. In 1928, the publisher, George P. Putnam, invited her to become the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean.

The previous year, Charles A. Lindbergh had flown solo nonstop across the Atlantic, and Putnam had made a fortune off Lindbergh's autobiographical book, We. In June, 1928, Earhart and two men flew from Newfoundland, Canada, to Wales, Great Britain. Although Earhart's only function during the crossing was to keep the plane's log, the flight won her great fame.

Americans were enamored of the daring young pilot. The three were honored with a ticker-tape parade in New York, and "Lady Lindy," as Earhart was dubbed, was given a White House reception by President Calvin Coolidge. Earhart wrote a book about the flight for Putnam, whom she married in 1931, and gave lectures and continued her flying career under her maiden name.

On May 20, 1932, she took off alone from Newfoundland in a Lockheed Vega on the first solo nonstop transatlantic flight by a woman. She was bound for Paris, but was blown off course and landed in Ireland on May 21 after flying more than 2,000 miles in just under 15 hours. It was the fifth anniversary of Lindbergh's historic flight, and before Earhart, no one had attempted to repeat his solo transatlantic flight.

For her achievement, she was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross by Congress. Three months later, Earhart became the first woman to fly solo nonstop across the continental United States.

In 1935, in the first flight of its kind, she flew solo from Wheeler Field in Honolulu to Oakland, California, winning a $10,000 award posted by Hawaiian commercial interests. Later that year, she was appointed a consultant in careers for women at Purdue University, and the school bought her a modern Lockheed Electra aircraft to be used as a "flying laboratory."

On March 17, 1937, she took off from Oakland and flew west on an around-the-world attempt. It would not be the first global flight, but it would be the longest — 29,000 miles, following an equatorial route. Aboard her Lockheed were Frederick Noonan, her navigator and a former Pan American pilot, and co-pilot, Harry Manning.

After resting and refueling in Honolulu, the trio prepared to resume the flight. However, while taking off for Howland Island, Earhart ground-looped the plane on the runway, perhaps because of a blown tire, and the Lockheed was seriously damaged. The flight was called off, and the aircraft was shipped back to California for repairs.

In May, Earhart flew the newly rebuilt plane to Miami, from where Noonan and she would make a new around-the-world attempt, this time from west to east. They left Miami on June 1, and after stops in South America, Africa, India and Southeast Asia, they arrived at Lae, New Guinea, on June 29. About 22,000 miles of the journey had been completed.

The last 7,000 miles would all be over the Pacific Ocean. The next destination was Howland Island, a tiny U.S.-owned island that was just a few miles long. The U.S. Department of Commerce had a weather observation station and a landing strip on the island and the staff was ready with fuel and supplies. Several U.S. ships, including the Coast Guard cutter, Itasca, were deployed to aid Earhart and Noonan in this difficult leg of their journey.

As the Lockheed approached Howland Island, Earhart radioed the Itasca and explained that she was low on fuel. However, after several hours of frustrating attempts, two-way communication was only briefly established. The Itasca was unable to pinpoint the Lockheed's location or offer navigational information.

Earhart circled the Itasca's position, but was unable to sight the ship, which was sending out miles of black smoke. She radioed "one-half hour fuel and no landfall" and later tried to give information on her position. Soon after, contact was lost. Earhart presumably tried to land the Lockheed on the water.

If her landing on the water was perfect, Earhart and Noonan might have had time to escape the aircraft with a life raft and survival equipment before it sank. An intensive search of the vicinity by the Coast Guard and U.S. Navy found no physical evidence of the fliers or their plane.

Additional searches through the years have likewise failed to find any trace of the Lockheed or of Earhart and Noonan, who almost certainly perished at sea. After decades of searches, researchers found a part of the wreckage from Earhart’s plane near Hawaii and it has been confirmed as authentic. It is now regarded as a control piece that will help to authenticate possible future discoveries.

Thanks History.com

The most famous UFO sighting happened in Roswell, New Mexico 74 years ago

U.F.O. sightings have been reported around the world, but arguably none are more famous than one 74 years ago.

In June, 1947, W. W. Brazel, a rancher in New Mexico, came across some odd debris. A few days later, he whispered “kinda confidential-like” to the local sheriff that it might have been remnants of a “flying disk.”

A local military base, the Roswell Army Air Field, issued a news release about the debris, prompting a newspaper article with the headline “RAAF Captures Flying Saucer.”

Officials changed their story the next day, saying the debris came from a weather balloon, but Roswell has since been nearly synonymous with tales of alien visitations.

Almost 20 years ago, the Air Force tried to end the speculation. In “The Roswell Report: Case Closed,” officials wrote that any “aliens” spotted in the desert “were actually anthropomorphic test dummies” carried aloft by high-altitude Air Force balloons.

As for Mr. Brazel, he didn’t believe the debris was a weather balloon, but he regretted setting off the furor. In the future, he said, “If I find anything else besides a bomb, they are going to have a hard time getting me to say anything about it.”

Thanks, New York Times!

Charles "Pete" Conrad, Jr., third man to walk on the moon, was born 91 years ago today

Charles "Pete" Conrad, Jr., third man to walk on the moon, was born 91 years ago today.

A U.S. Navy officer and NASA astronaut who flew the Apollo 12 mission, Conrad set an eight-day space endurance record along with his command pilot, Gordon Cooper, on the Gemini 5 mission. He also commanded the Gemini 11 mission.

After Apollo, he commanded the Skylab 2 mission (the first manned one), on which he and his crew-mates repaired significant launch damage to the Skylab space station. For this, President Jimmy Carter awarded him the Congressional Space Medal of Honor in 1978.

Conrad was always the “fun” astronaut — a man with great sense of humor. He was often seen around the bars and other nightlife spots in Cocoa Beach, Florida during the space flight era.

As a pilot, Conrad was invited to take part in the selection process for the first group of astronauts for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) (the "Mercury Seven").

Conrad, like his fellow candidates, underwent several days of what they considered to be invasive, demeaning and unnecessary medical and psychological testing at the Lovelace Respiratory Research Institute in New Mexico.

Unlike his fellow candidates, Conrad rebelled against the regimen. During a Rorschach inkblot test, he told the psychiatrist that one blot card revealed a sexual encounter complete with lurid detail. When shown a blank card, he turned it around, pushed it back and replied "It's upside down.”

Then when he was asked to deliver a stool sample to the onsite lab, he placed it in a gift box and tied a red ribbon around it. Eventually, he decided he had enough.

After dropping his full enema bag on the desk of the clinic’s commanding officer, he walked out. His initial application to NASA was denied with the notation not suitable for long-duration flight.

Thereafter, when NASA announced its search for a second group of astronauts, Mercury veteran Alan Shepard, who knew Conrad from their time as naval aviators and test pilots, approached Conrad and persuaded him to reapply. This time, the medical tests were less offensive and Conrad was selected to join NASA.

Conrad joined NASA as part of the second group of astronauts, known as the New Nine, on September 17, 1962. Regarded as one of the best pilots in the group, he was among the first of his group to be assigned a Gemini mission. As pilot of Gemini 5 he, along with his commander Gordon Cooper, set a new space endurance record of eight days.

The duration of the Gemini 5 flight was actually seven days, 22 hours and 55 minutes, surpassing the then-current Russian record of five days. Eight days was the time required for the first manned lunar landing missions. Conrad facetiously referred to the Gemini 5 capsule as a flying garbage can.

Conrad tested many spacecraft systems essential to the Apollo program. He was also one of the smallest of the astronauts in height — 5 feet, 6½ inches — so he found the confinement of the Gemini capsule less onerous than did his commander, Gordon Cooper, who had played American football.

On November 14, 1969, Apollo 12 launched with Conrad as commander, Dick Gordon as Command Module Pilot and Alan Bean as Lunar Module Pilot. The launch was the most harrowing of the Apollo program, as a series of lightning strikes just after liftoff temporarily knocked out power and guidance in the command module.

Five days later, after stepping onto the lunar surface, Conrad joked about his own small stature by remarking: “Whoopee! Man, that may have been a small one for Neil, but that's a long one for me.”

He later revealed that he said this in order to win a bet he had made with the Italian journalist, Oriana Fallaci, for $500 to prove that NASA did not script astronaut comments.

Conrad died on July 8, 1999, less than three weeks before the celebrations of the 30th anniversary of the first moon landing. While motorcycling in Ojai, California, with his wife and friends, he ran off the road and crashed.

His injuries were first thought to be minor, but he died from internal bleeding about six hours later. He was buried with full honors at Arlington National Cemetery, with many Apollo-era astronauts in attendance.

Here is the liftoff of Apollo 12, the second mission to the moon

Pete Conrad being interviewed by Frank Beacham, late 1960s