Does the Appollo 11 Flag Still Fly on the Moon?

One of the most iconic images from the Apollo 11 mission is of Buzz Aldrin saluting the American flag on the surface of the Moon. It was a standard 3-by-5-foot nylon flag, with the only modification being a hem sewed along its top edge to allow a metal rod to slide through – that gave the flag rigidity in the windless environment so that it appeared to wave. The flag was attached to an 8-foot flagpole, gold-anodized aluminum tube, that the astronauts planted into the lunar soil.

HOW WAS THE FLAG AND ASEMBLY CARRIED TO THE MOON?

According to NASA, the overall Lunar Flag Assembly, including a stainless steel case to protect the flag against temperature extremes, weighed 9 pounds 7 ounces. The assembly was attached to the forward landing leg of the Lunar Module Eagle three days before launch.

The video here shows Apollo 11 astronauts Neil A. Armstrong and Edwin E. “Buzz” Aldrin deploying the flag on the lunar surface on July 20, 1969. The split screen shows the live TV downlink on the left, synchronized with film taken by an automatic camera set up inside the LM on the right.

SO WHAT ABOUT THE FLAG TODAY?

The flag left by Apollo 11 cannot be seen in recent years by the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter and is presumably no longer standing. The film taken from inside the lunar module as the astronauts lifted off from the Moon begins after the module is already airborne and the flag cannot be seen, but Aldrin claims he caught a glimpse of the flag getting knocked over during liftoff. But, over the next three years, five more flags joined the one left by Apollo 11. Photographs show that the flags left by Apollo 12, 16 and 17 appear to be still standing. On the later landings, astronauts planted the flags farther from the lunar module. The status of the Apollo 14 and 15 flags cannot be determined conclusively, although it looks like the Apollo 14 flag took quite a beating from the lunar module engine exhaust during liftoff.

ALL WAS NOT LOST!

The good news is that, flag-wise, all was not lost from the Apollo 11's trip to the moon. The flag that Apollo 17 left on the Moon was a flag that went to the Moon and back on Apollo 11. It had hung on a wall in Mission Control until it made a return trip to the Moon, this time to stay.

Attention Band Leaders, Do Not Play My Song

"There's A Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere" is a patriotic anthem written in 1942 by Paul Roberts and Shelby Darnell (a pseudonym for producer Bob Miller). The song enjoyed great popularity during the World War II years. So why did Miller threaten to sue big-name band leaders if they played it?

It was because Miller was all about hillbilly music. When the song hit its third million in record and sheet music sales he placed an ad in Variety magazine, asking big-name band leaders not to play it, and when the song made the Hit Parade he threatened to sue if they did. He explained that his reputation as a writer and publisher was at stake. "This music," he insisted, "must have the common touch. It is violated unless done by a true son of the soil, one to the manner born."

The title of the song has a significant meaning. The word "somewhere" appears to signify heaven, for, as the lyrics state, only the great heroes of Uncle Sam get to go there. The narrator states he'll see the likes of Lincoln, Custer, Perry Washington and Hale. He adds that he is willing to die to "be a free American" and wherever that Star Spangled Banner is waving is where he wants to be living when his time to die is at hand.

My 1942 recording of this song by Arthur Fields (Hit Records) is among the first recordings after the song was written.

There's a star spangled banner waving somewhere
In a distant land so many miles away
Only Uncle Sam's great hero's get to go there
Where I wish that I could live someday

I see Lincoln, Custer, Washington and Perry
Nathan Hale and Collin Kelly too
There's a star spangled banner waving somewhere
Waving ov'er the land of hero's brave and true

From Whence Our True Freedom Comes

Did you know that ''The Star Spangled Banner'' wasn't actually adopted as the official national anthem of the United States until 1931? Before that, the nation had a few de facto national anthems, and ''The Star Spangled Banner'' wasn't even the most popular. That honor goes to ''America (My Country, 'Tis of Thee)." For a century, this was the most beloved 'unofficial' anthem of the nation.

The story of this popular hymn begIns in 1831, when Samuel Francis Smith, a student at the Andover, Massachusetts Theological Seminary, who would later become a Baptist preacher, journalist and author, was asked to translate the lyrics in some German school songbooks into English. The "God Save the Queen" melody caught his attention, but rather than translate those lyrics, Smith was moved deeply by the desire to create a national hymn that would allow the American people to offer praise to God for our wonderful land. And so, in just thirty minutes, he wrote his own words to the melody and "America (My Country, 'Tis of Thee)" was born.

The first three verses of this patriotic hymn encourage and invoke national pride, while the last verse is a petition to God for His continued favor and protection of the United States of America. "Long may our land be bright with freedom’s holy light," it says. 2 Corinthians 3:17 says “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (aka freedom)," which is to say Christ is where true freedom is found. It is a freedom that lasts for an eternity, not anything temporary. The kind of freedom we will never have to worry about being stolen or taken away.

It was William Penn who wrote: "Men must be governed by God or they will be ruled by tyrants." And, while America strives to provide freedom, let us pray that we never lose sight of from whence our true freedom comes.

Morgan's Kentucky Raid Began at Cumberland County

On July 2, 1863, Confederate General John Hunt Morgan and his troops crossed the Cumberland River at Burkesville, KY, where a skirmish with Union foes took place. Morgan's Rebels were able to drive the Yankees back to the nearby Marrowbone community, but another skirmish occured just beyond the community of Waterview. This time, however, the Union forces used artillery and fresh men to push Morgan back.

Morgan's whole purpose in conducting raids into the north was to create diversion to keep Union troops and resources away from the ongoing Confederate operations at Vicksburg and Gettysburg.

From Kentucky, Morgan's Men raided across southern Indiana and Ohio. At Buffington Island in Meigs County, Ohio on July 19, 1863, Union Maj. Gen. Ambrose Burnside ordered out all available troops for a battle that ended with the capture of over half of the 1,700-man Confederate force, including my grandmother Vada Boles' 3rd cousin, Samuel Washington Frost, who had grown up at Gap Creek in Wayne County and had enlisted in Co. H 7th KY Cavalry at the onset of the Civil War.

Samuel and hundreds of other prisoners who had fought at Buffington Island were sent to Camp Douglas prison camp in Chicago, where he died on March 26, 1864. It has been estimated that more than 6,000 Confederate prisoners died there from things like smallpox, dysentery, pneumonia, starvation and torture.

They are buried in the Confederate Mound at Oak Woods Cemetery, located in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago. It is one of the largest mass graves in North America. Near the southwest corner of the cemetery stands a 30-foot granite monument dedicated to the thousands of Confederate soldiers who died at Camp Douglas. 

As for General Morgan, less than a month after the skirmishes that had taken place in Cumberland County, he surrendered, although, he escaped to fight again, only to be killed about a year later.

Three Cheers for the Red, White & Blue, But Not The Yankees

In 1974, a radio and tv commercial began airing that claimed there was nothing more American than "baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet." I'm not sure if fifty-four years earlier writer/composer Louis Hirsch would have agreed.

In 1914, Hirsch, who was born in New York City, was one of the nine founders of ASCAP, which stands for "American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers," a non-profit performance-rights organization that protects its members' musical copyrights by monitoring public performances of their music and compensating them accordingly.

In that same year, 1914, Hirsch composed a patriotic love song entitled, "The Red, White and Blue," which was recorded and released on Victor Records by The Peerless Quartet. It is one of the disks in my 78rpm record collection.

Being a native of New York, Hirsch loved the Yankees, but in 1920 he sued the baseball organization for $100‚000 because of an incident which happened at a game on May 24th that year. To avoid sitting next to a cigar smoker‚ Hirsch switched seats with his brother, but an usher informed him it was against the rules to do that and ordered the two brothers to switch back. Hirsch refused and had to be forcibly ejected from the stands.

The Peerless Quartet, a popular ensemble organized in 1906, recorded The Red, White on June 4, 1914.

Your lips are so red
Such a beautiful red
I just love to see you smile
Your teeth are so white
Like the stars in the night
or the pearls from a southern isle
The blue of your eyes
Like the midsummer skies
Form a color I just love to view
So no wonder I say
When I'm looking your way
Three cheers for the
Red, White and Blue

Smitty's 1st Annual Summer Jam

It was a big night for CW Steele and Albany on that hot summer night in 1980 when the band played its now-legendary concert at Smitty's Drive-In. The lot behind the restaurant where we sat up the stage, a flat bed trailer, was standing room only. The parking lot there was full, as was the big one across the road at Albany Stockyards. A continuous flow of traffic encircled the well-known restaurant for what seemed like hours that day and evening. The carhops were kept busy, as were those working inside. But, oh what a night it was.

As far as the band went, we jammed the night away: myself, Dwayne, Leon, my brother Ronnie, Jeff "Monk" Flowers, Steve Claborn and Gary Lehman. Two things happened that night that clearly stand out in my mind after all these years. One was when Junior Byers came on stage to play his harmonica, a calling of his that he never really answered during all of the years he played music. The other thing was when the police came to tell us to turn down because residents living three miles away were complaining that we were too loud. In all my years of playing music, and being told to turn down, that night at Smitty's is my favorite "turn it down, you're too loud" moment, because the band played on that night (thanks to Smitty being on the city council) and we rocked the entire east end of town.

Before we started, Leon, Dwayne and I went inside the restaurant. Leon said, "Watch this," then turned to Smitty and said, "Hey, Smitty how 'bout a bologna sandwich," and then threw his head back and laughed. Smitty disappeared for a few seconds, only to return with a piece of bologna in his hand. "How do you want it?" he asked.

That night at Smitty's was the first time I had played keyboards in a live band setting since the age of 14, when my dad put together a little combo to play a couple of country club parties and let me be in the band. It also featured future bandmates David Pennycuff and Junior Byers, and that one night when my idol, Cecil Pryor, joined joined in at one of Smitty's famous Christmas parties.

My memory of Smitty's 1st Annual Summer Jam is a special one to me. My brother, Ronnie, died in a car accident in 1981 and Leon was killed in a boating accident two years later. We played the Smitty's concert for free that night for a couple of reasons. Number one, we wanted to give ourselves, and everyone else, something to do, and number two, just like everyone else, we loved Smitty and Shelva and wanted to do something special for them. They had given us, and the generation before us, a place to cruise and a place to hang out, not to mention the delicious food they served had up for what ended up being 38 years.

Smitty’s Drive-In opened on May 18, 1962 and closed on July 4, 2000. If ever there were husband and wife icons in Clinton County, James and Shelva Smith are it. Oh yes, how they definitely are it! Smitty was so popular. He served as a member of the Albany City Council for 15 terms, stretching out over three decades. For 36 years, he was chairman of Albany Housing Authority.

What kind of impression did Smitty's Drive-In leave on us? Robbie Davis, in a Facebook post dated June 30, 2016, the night before he died, shared a photo he had taken of the Smitty's sign out by the road, which is the photo you see here, and he wrote the following: "John and I cruised Albany late last night and I showed him the circle and shared what we did in Albany growing up. It was fun. The sad part is, we where the only people out at 11pm on a summer night. Things sure have changed."

By the way, the day Smitty's 1st Annual Summer Jam took place, my pal David Cross showed up with t-shirts to commemorate the occasion. Who still has theirs?

In Memory of James "Smitty" Smith
(1935-2019)

Medal of Honor Recipient Was Born 100 Years Ago Today

Medal of Honor recipient, WWII hero and native Lt. Garlin Murl Conner of Aaron, Kentucky was born 100 years ago today, in 1919. "Conner embodied the pure, patriotic love that builds and sustains a nation," said President Donald Trump, as he awarded the MOH to Lt. Conner's widow, Pauline, on June 26th of last year. "Lt. Conner stared down evil with the strength of a warrior and the heart of a true hero. [He] was indeed a giant. In his daring, his devotion and his duty, he was larger than life," the president said.

"An Unsung Hero in the making of a Legend"

Legendary Green Bay Packers quarterback Bart Starr died Sunday at the age of 85. He had been in failing health since suffering two strokes and a heart attack in 2014. Starr played for the Packers from 1956 to 1971 and won five NFL championships. He was the most valuable player in the first two Super Bowls.

Before playing in the first one on Jan. 15, 1967, the Packers first had to get by a tough Dallas Cowboys team in the NFC Championship on Dec. 31, 1967. When I think of Bart Start, this is what I think of:

The now legendary 1967 NFC Championship, dubbed the “Ice Bowl,” was known not only for the artic conditions (-41 degree wind chill factor) but for the final play by the Packers. It was the 4th quarter, the Cowboys were leading 17-14 with just 16 seconds left in the game and the Packers were at the one yard line. Starr, the quarterback, asked offensive lineman Jerry Kramer if he could make a hole in the line for him to get through for the touchdown. Kramer answered yes. The ball was snapped and true to his word, Kramer, the right guard, blocked for Starr, who crossed over into the end zone as the photo shows for the game winning touch down. The crowd went wild. Pandemonium followed as both fans and players swarmed the field. Starr was lifted high into the air as the crowd chanted STARR! STARR! STARR! over and over.

After he made the successful block, Kramer wound up face down on the icy field. As he picked himself up, he stared down the field at the sight of the famous Starr being in exalted for making the touchdown. Although happy his team had won, Kramer felt dejected, overlooked for his great contribution to his teams victory. Sure, Starr had ran in the touchdown, but if not for Kramer, the quarterback would have never been able to make it. And then, Jerry’s eyes turned away from the celebration and they found his head coach, Vince Lombardi, who was still standing on the same sideline where his team had stood during the game. Lombardi was standing still, his eyes steadfastly staring straight at Kramer. The second their eyes met, Lombardi extended out his arm and gave Kramer a thumb’s up. At that moment the lineman knew that, even though his role in the victory had gone unnoticed by the crowd, his head coach knew the truth, and that made everything okay.

Incidently, prior to Kramer's 2018 induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, the selection committee received a letter of recommendation on behalf of Bart Starr from his wife, Cherry. It said, in part, “Bart has always believed Jerry was the total package for a quality football player.”

As for Starr, he was a four-time Pro Bowl selection and two-time All-Pro. He won NFL titles in 1961, ’62, ’65, ‘67 and ’68. He was the 1966 NFL MVP and was named to the 1960s All-Decade team.

Yesterday, ESPN wrote that Bart Start was the toughest football player who ever lived. Jerry Kramer may have been invisible on that day, Dec. 31, 1967, but he sure was invaluable.

The photo here shows Starr, #15, lying face down in the end zone, while Kramer, #64, is lying almost face down before him.

Tim Conway's Tale of Childhood Faith and Answered Prayer

2007
by Tim Conway

Five dimes were burning a hole in my pocket—the ones I'd saved just for this day. The carnival was in town! Part of the annual Blossom Festival in my hometown of Chagrin Falls, Ohio: brass bands marched down Main Street, the town's ladies competed for the best jams and pies and the fruit trees dripped pink and white blossoms on the sidewalk. But, for me the best part was the carnival.

Saturday morning I wrapped my fingers around those coins and made my way to the carnival. "Step right up, young man, step right up," came the call from the booths. "Take a chance and win the prize of your life!"

There were giant teddy bears and rockets that a 12-year-old kid like me could shoot off in the backyard. Plastic jewelry sparkled in gimcrack treasure chests. But I wasn't going to waste my hard-earned money on just anything. It had to be the perfect thing.

Why pitch a Ping-Pong ball into a pot of goldfish or swing a hammer in a test for "The World's Strongest Man" if you didn't really want the prize?

I lingered for a moment at the merry-go-round, watching the horses go round and round to the calliope's song. They seemed a poor match for the real horses my dad took care of, and I would rather ride the real thing.

I bought a Coke in a bottle and sipped it, walking around the fairgrounds. One dime down. Then I spotted the Ferris wheel, circling above the fair. Ten cents a ride. I ponied up my second dime and hopped on.

Slowly I rose above the cotton candy and popcorn booths, above the sounds of the barkers shouting, above the trees until I could see the whole town. There was the school I attended and the fishing hole my buddies and I raced to after school.

I could see the ballpark, the movie theater on Main Street and our church, the center of our world.

Both Mom and Dad had immigrat­ed here from the Old Country. Dad had worked with horses back in Ireland and got a job on a horse farm. And Mom was a seamstress who could sew anything; Dad's shirts, my Halloween costumes, her own dresses. She came here from Romania when she was only 16 years old and quickly found work.

I was their only kid and I always felt I was a real blessing to them. But when we prayed together on Sunday mornings their faith seemed so much greater. Kneeling next to them, I felt like I was waiting to hear God speak.

The Ferris wheel brought me plummet­ing back down to the ground and I hurried away, fingering the three dimes left in my pocket. That's when I spot­ted it: a white plastic crucifix that glowed in the dark with an emerald-green ribbon around it.

It was attached to one of 60 plas­tic ducklings bobbing up and down in a pool of water. A hose at the bottom of the pool made the ducks swim and spin. That crucifix was meant to be mine. I'd never been so sure of anything in my life.

"Step right up, son," the barker called to me. "For just ten cents that beauty could be all yours. All you have to do is pick it up with a hook. I'll bet you can catch anything when you fish."

Sure can, I thought. I handed over my dime and the man handed me a wooden pole. I lowered the hook toward the crucifix, slowly, carefully, but just as I yanked it the plastic duck scurried away. "Try again," said the barker, holding out his hand for another dime. This time it'll work.

I acted like I was fishing down by the river, casting my hook toward a trout. The duck with the crucifix came just in reach. I jerked up the line. Noth­ing. "Third time's a charm," said the man. I handed him my last dime and lowered the hook ever so gently to the crucifix...and pulled. Nothing.

The barker turned away. "Step right up," he called. It was so unfair! All my dimes were gone. Why was I so sure that crucifix was meant for me? Why was I certain I could win it?

I started to walk away, head down. My day at the carnival was over. Then I spotted something on the ground. One shiny dime, glinting in the bright sun. I picked it up and squeezed it between my fingers—and headed back to the game.

For some reason, I turned around. To this day, I can't tell you why. I left the fairground and stopped at a giant old maple tree. Leaning against the trunk, I closed my eyes and started praying, praying harder than I'd ever prayed before.

Lord, I said, if you're listening, I would really like that cross. The one that glows in the dark with the emerald ribbon.

I stayed there for a long time, just waiting. I could hear shouts at the carnival and the sound of the calliope. But slowly it all faded away and I was left with only my de­sire for the cross. What did it mean? It was just a piece of plastic that glowed in the dark, after all.

No, but it was more. It represented the faith I'd been yearning for, the deep and living faith that my parents had. I wanted it too and, somehow, in my 12-year-old heart, that plastic crucifix had come to symbolize it.

Standing against that old maple tree I knew that faith was already there for me to have, if I could just reach for it. Lord, I really want that crucifix. But even if it's not meant to be, I want you in my life every day.

I hurried back to the fairground, and right back to that booth. The barker looked at me, raised an eyebrow and stretched out his palm. I slapped the dime in it, and he handed me the fishing pole, eyeing me with bemusement.

Many of the other prizes had disappeared, but the crucifix was still there. I dipped the pole in the water, felt it catch against the emerald ribbon, then I raised the hook. The crucifix dangled from the other end. It was mine.

That little cross stayed with me for a lifetime. It was with me when I left home and went off to college. It was with me when I decid­ed I wanted to act, and got my break on the Steve Allen Show and then on McHale's Navy.

It was with me through my wonder­ful years on The Carol Burnett Show, too. I still have it, and I hold on to it when I pray for people who are ill, for my children and grandchildren.

All these years later, miles from Chagrin Falls, that little carnival cross still helps me feel connected to God.

Remembering John Havlicek

I stopped caring so much about NBA basketball when Magic Johnson retired from the game for the third and final time in 1996. From a personal hero standpoint, I had no one else to root for. Larry Bird had already retired and so had Issel and Gilmore.

Growing up in the late sixties and all through the seventies it was routine for my family to attend church on Sunday morning. After lunch, our attention turned to the television set where there was almost always a Celtics game on, and that's where I became a big fan of Hondo. John Havlicek. Number 17.

Havlicek died Thursday night, April 25, 2019 at the age of 79. He had been suffering from Parkinson’s Disease.

It's funny because I always thought Havlicek looked more like a lumberjack then he did a basketball player. At 6'5 he was a small forward who sometimes played the shooting guard position, but he never slowed down. He never stopped running. His relentless hustle is what attracted me to his style of play.

Havlicek played 16 seasons in the NBA, all of them with the Celtics. He was one of the central figures in the Celtics’ rise to prominence and was considered a mainstay on eight championship teams (1963-1966; 1968, 1969, 1974 and 1976). Havlicek averaged 20.8 points, 6.3 rebounds, 4.8 assists and 1.2 steals over his career. He is the Celtics all-time leader in points scored and games played, ranks second in assists and fifth in rebounds. In addition, he made 13 All-Star teams and was an 11-time All-NBA selection before entering the Basketball Hall of Fame in 1984. The NBA named him to its list of the 50 greatest players to play in the league. His No. 17 is forever enshrined in the Garden rafters.

"HAVLICEK STOLE THE BALL"

Havlicek was involved in one of the NBA's most iconic plays of all time on April 15, 1965, during the Eastern Conference final playoff series between the Celtics and the Philadelphia 76ers. The Celtics were clinging to a 110-109 lead with five seconds remaining when Bill Russell’s inbounds pass from under the 76ers’ basket hit a guide wire overhead, giving the 76ers the ball and a chance to win the series. Guarding Chet Walker in the area near the free-throw line, Havlicek began silently counting off the five allotted seconds that 76ers had to inbound the ball. At the count of four, he peeked back to see that the ball had just been tossed in his direction. Havlicek reached and tipped the pass to teammate Sam Jones, who then dribbled out the clock to secure the victory for Boston, setting off pandemonium in Boston Garden. The play was immortalized by Celtics’ radio broadcaster Johnny Most, whose call “Havlicek stole the ball!” became enshrined in every highlight reel of the Celtics’ glorious history.

The Celtics issued a statement following his passing. It read, “(Halicek's) defining traits as a player were his relentless hustle and wholehearted commitment to team over self...he was a champion in every sense."

The basketball star was described by the team in a statement as "one of the most accomplished players in Boston Celtics history, and the face of many of the franchise's signature moments."

So long Hondo, thanks for the memories!

Parcel Post Began on Jan. 1, 1913

By law, the Post Office Department could not carry parcels weighing more than four pounds at the beginning of the 20th century. Private express companies, which had begun to flourish in the mid-1800s, delivered large packages. The establishment of rural free delivery had provided a heady taste of life for rural Americans. Soon the demand increased for the delivery of packages containing food, dry goods, drugs, and other commodities not easily available to farmers. Though express companies and country merchants fought long and hard against it, rural residents, who represented 54 percent of the country’s population in 1910, were equally emphatic in wanting Parcel Post.

The Act of August 24, 1912 authorized Parcel Post and it officially began on January 1, 1913. It was an instant success, with 300 million parcels mailed in the first six months the service was offered. The effect on the national economy was electric. Marketing and merchandising through Parcel Post spurred the growth of the great mail-order houses. Montgomery Ward, the first mail-order company, started with a catalog of more than 100 products in 1872. Sears, Roebuck and Company followed Montgomery Ward in 1893. The year Parcel Post began, Sears handled five times as many orders as it did the year before. Five years later, Sears doubled its revenues.

(from usps.com)