We were on one of our ‘famous” family driving vacations, me and my sister fighting in the back seat, my Mom(being my Mom) and my Dad happy as hell, driving down some road, right hand on the wheel and left arm propped up in the window getting sunburned, hour after hour, mile after mile, windows open, AC you ask? No way, not in 1968 in your typical 4-door Chevy.

But today was a little different. Instead of stopping at a roadside rest area and pulling out the styrofoam cooler to make bologna sandwiches, with American cheese and yellow mustard on white bread, and a cold coke in the bottle, the best lunch ever, we did something different. We checked into the hotel early, way early. What’s going on?

As customary, Dad went in and registered, then he walked over and checked out the room-without fail, always did this and he walked back to the car and said, “okay, here we are for today”, but today was a little different, July 20th, 1969.

My Dad was pretty low key, a big strong guy, with a large presence and posture that folks knew he was a capable man, at his work they called him “Big Andy”, mostly this lead to thinking he was not an emotional guy. Another of the strong silent type of his era, but not today not July 20th, 1969.

The usual activity of unloading the luggage and unloading the car went quickly and next thing I know there’s Dad with the TV on and Walter Cronkite on the screen. My Dad had planned this all along, vacation or not he was going to witness this. This momentous occasion in human history.

When Neil Armstrong stepped out onto the ladder and spoke those words “One giant step for man . . .” I was looking over at my Dad and I could see him being overtaken with emotion. Proud to be able to have watched this event, proud to share this with his family, and with my Dad, he was proud to be an American. This big strong, silent man was welling up with joy, happiness and pride. Like a lot of other Americans across the U.S, on that  day, 56 years ago. July 20th, 1969.

That moment, that day are literally etched into my soul and my mind, it was a helluva day. I was proud “Big Andy” was my Dad, my mentor, my father. And I will always miss him greatly.