I was a kid, living at Ramey Air Force Base in Puerto Rico when I became aware of the space program. I decided I was in love with Astronaut John Glenn, and wanted to travel with him into space. Each day after school I would get my paper and pencil and go sit in front of the big blue post office box a few blocks away from my house and write him letters. Sometimes I brought my 5 year-old sister with me. The letters basically said the same thing: “Dear John Glenn, I love you and want to travel in space with you. I saw you on T.V. and I am not afraid to go in a spaceship to explore the galaxy. We can get married and travel together. Please write back to me and let me know when you will come and get me. My sister can’t go, she is too young. I live at 134 Lemay Street.”
I would then fold the letter, (sans envelope and stamp) and put it in the mail box. I would hide to watch the postman pick up the mail, (remember, it’s a Federal CRIME to touch mail or mail boxes that are not yours) to ensure my letter went on it’s way. I waited. In fact, I’m still waiting.
Triage is derived from the French trier, meaning “to sort.” Triage is a brief clinical assessment. A system used to allocate a scarce commodity only to those capable of deriving the greatest benefit from it.
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My Love Affair With John Glenn
I was a kid, living at Ramey Air Force Base in Puerto Rico when I became aware of the space program. I decided I was in love with Astronaut John Glenn, and wanted to travel with him into space. Each day after school I would get my paper and pencil and go sit in front of the big blue post office box a few blocks away from my house and write him letters. Sometimes I brought my 5 year-old sister with me. The letters basically said the same thing: “Dear John Glenn, I love you and want to travel in space with you. I saw you on T.V. and I am not afraid to go in a spaceship to explore the galaxy. We can get married and travel together. Please write back to me and let me know when you will come and get me. My sister can’t go, she is too young. I live at 134 Lemay Street.”
I would then fold the letter, (sans envelope and stamp) and put it in the mail box. I would hide to watch the postman pick up the mail, (remember, it’s a Federal CRIME to touch mail or mail boxes that are not yours) to ensure my letter went on it’s way. I waited. In fact, I’m still waiting.
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December 16, 2006 - Posted by radioactv915 | 1960's, Commentary, On The Home Front, Space, The Final Frontier