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VOLUME 12
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, JULY 25, 1969
NUMBER 18
Like us, you’ll find it hard to
believe, but there were New
Bernians who didn’t have their
television sets turned on Sun
day afternoon and night. A
sample Mirror survey indicates
that there may have been hun
dreds of adults who didn’t both
er to fill a ringside seat for
the biggest story since Christ
arose from the dead.
What they missed, of course,
was a golden opportunity, all
for free, to witness a great mo
ment in history. It is safe to
say that never before have the
inhabitants of our 259 year old
town been so deeply stirred.
If you didn’t esiperlence emo
tional stress, you are a most
unusual human being.
It ^vas a Sabbath to remember,
and remember it you will if you
watched the spine tingling dra
ma unfold. On the surface (a
bad choice of words) the least
excited of all interested Amer
icans, and world citizens, were
the astrounants. That, precise
ly, is one of the reasons they
were chosen for the chores they
were called upon to perform.
After it was over, we admit
ted somewhat sheepishly to sev
eral friends that at Intervals,
during the afternoon and eve
ning, we stepped outside and
looked up at the moon. It was
a recurring impulse that could
not be resisted, and. we were
surprised (but shouldn’t have
been) to learn that a lot of oth
er folks did exactly the same
thing.
Seeing is believing, and there
can be no doubt that Apollo 11
fulfilled its mission, but the
average human mind still finds
it hard to grasp and accept the
reality. No one but God per
forms miracles, but within
man’s limitations, what hap
pened Sunday was as close to
fashioning a miracle as any
thing a mortal has accomplish
ed up to this point.
Science and religion aren’t
in complete agreement on all
matters, but it should be reas
suring, whatever your faith may
be, to take note of the fact that
these and other astronants pro
fess belief in the omnipotence of
a Supreme Being, To us, it
seemed particularly fitting, a-
greeing it was probably a coin
cidence, that man’s first land
ing on another planet came on
the Lord’s Day.
Those of little faith might re
gard as corny the fervent re
sponse of Nell Armstrong’s
mother, when reporters ap
proached her shortly after she
attended Sunday worship at the
church of her choice. At that
time, the lunar landing had oc
curred, but her son hadn’t e-
merged from the craft to do what
no man had done before him.
Mrs. Armstrong, bless her
heart, doesn’t have the voice
to make a living out of televi
sion commercials, but she has
the sincerity that would make
her a good next-door neigh
bor. In quavering tones she
simply said, “Praise God from
Whom all blessings flow.’’ Billy
Graham has never preached a
more eloquent sermon for a lar
ger congregation.
There is no way to measure
the tremendous impact that this
astoudning event had on count
less millions of human beings.
The effect lingers, and it may
very well be that none of us
will ever feel quite the samea-
(Continued on Page 8)
THROUGH THE AGES
It ever has been thus, man gazing at the sky,
Counting the stars and asking how and why.
Confined to one small world, he saw the beams
That shone in outer space, and had his dreams.
As old as all of time, this never ending story,
Mortals reaching out to heavens in their glory;
Yearning to feel beneath them the dust or sod
Upon a far-off planet, designed by God.
And surely, One above Who made us richly blessed
Gave human minds and hearts this urge, this quest;
An ancient shepherd’s journey to the distant hills.
Covered wagons rolling west, across rocks and rills;
Tiny vessels setting forth, on vast uncharted seas,
Lindbergh winging in the night, man was meant for these.
As long as there are snow-capped peaks, he must ascend.
Beyond the blue horizon is his challenge to the end.
A creature in God’s image, now he better understands
Wonders of the universe, with moon dust in his hands.
—JGMcD.