July, 1969 : From Launch to Legacy, Awe Then and Now
Today my post will be less politics and more on Canada Strong, Free and Proud. Thirteen years ago, I wrote the following words about the death of Neil Armstrong, and about a moment in time that still lives vividly in my memory:
“I am generally not one to put a lot of value to celebrity and generally do not find my heroes in pop culture. But today as I heard of the death of Neil Armstrong; the first man on the moon, I suddenly felt profoundly sad. But why? Certainly he had been a pilot; something always close to my heart and several years ago my Dad had shared a table with him at an aviation event. But that was not the connection I was feeling. It was much more than that. It was the knowledge that I am now a full generation away from the little girl that sat riveted in front of that TV set on July 20th, 1969 when Neil Armstrong and then Buzz Aldrin set foot on the moon. I had spent weeks waiting for the event. I had scrapbooks full of every article or newspaper clipping I could find. My family did not leave the room on that Monday afternoon as we waited for the landing of the module on the surface of the moon, and stayed later still as we waited the 6 hours until Neil Armstrong placed his boot on the dusty lunar surface and proclaimed ‘That is one small step for a man; one giant leap for mankind.’ These men were my heroes. My father kept saying that this would be remembered as an amazing moment in our lives. It was a different world. We were in an era that still had ‘awe’. We could not computer generate a trip to another planet with a resolution that looked like we were really there. But what we did have was a grainy black and white picture that told us that as a society we had gone somewhere we had previously only imagined in our dreams. My father was right. I do remember July 20th, 1969 as an amazing moment in my life; partly because of it being a great moment in history but more so because I can still sense the incredible feeling of having shared that moment with my family. So the profound sadness I feel is not about the loss of a man I do not know. It is the sadness that yet another special moment in my life is now such a distant memory.”
At the time, I suggested that we were no longer living in an era of awe. But in hindsight, I realize I was wrong. Awe returned. And for me, it came in the form of someone remarkably close to home, someone born the very same year I was, who also sat in front of a television on July 20, 1969: Commander Chris Hadfield.
Chris Hadfield didn’t just become an astronaut, he became a storyteller, a scientist, a musician, an educator, and a symbol of Canadian excellence. He reminded us that space wasn’t just about rockets and math, it was about perspective, wonder, and responsibility.
I’ve been fortunate enough to connect with him more than once. I met him at the Canadian Aviation Hall of Fame when he was inducted and my father was already an inductee. We had the opportunity to speak and spend time together then, a deeply meaningful moment, given how aviation had already bound my family to these kinds of historic milestones. Later, during an aviation tour, our paths crossed again. Somewhere, I have a photo of the two of us, Chris Hadfield and me, with the world in the background.
I was also invited to the splashdown event at the Canadian Space Agency in Saint-Hubert, Quebec following his return from the International Space Station, in part because of the original piece I had written about Armstrong, and maybe also because I had tapped into something we all feel when space reminds us of our shared humanity. Chris Hadfield didn’t need a press agent or a spotlight to be extraordinary. He’s just real. And through his words, his photos, his voice, he reawakened that sense of awe in a whole new generation.
So today, on the anniversary of the Apollo 11 launch, I want to honour the memory of that little girl in New Brunswick, eyes wide with wonder as the rocket left Earth, and I want to celebrate the fact that the awe didn’t end with Armstrong.
It continued, and in my case, it came full circle through a Canadian who still makes us look up.
This post isn’t my usual political reflection, but sometimes, we need to come back to the core of who we are. These are the moments that shaped me, and they continue to define what I believe about leadership, humility, exploration, and national pride. This is Canada Strong. This is Canada Free. This is Canada Proud.
And once again, it turns out my Dad was right, a single moment in time really can define a lifetime.
“Eye of the Storm” This photograph, taken by Commander Chris Hadfield aboard the International Space Station in March 2013, shows Tropical Cyclone Haruna over Madagascar, with Canadarm2, a Canadian invention, pointing directly at the eye of the storm. A powerful reminder that Canada’s presence in space is not just symbolic, but deeply integrated into international exploration and innovation.
Photo credit: Chris Hadfield, 2013
Nancy's Notes 