The first grainy pictures are etched in our collective consciousness. A camera on the side of the Apollo 11 lunar lander popped into position as astronaut Neil Armstrong descended the ladder to become the first human being to set foot upon another world.
Those flickering images were transmitted across a quarter-million miles to a spellbound audience on Earth. For many of those transfixed by the historic events unfolding on their TV sets on July 20, 1969, Mr. Armstrong's small step truly appeared to be a giant leap – the universe seemed within humanity's grasp.
After all, something long considered impossible had been achieved in less than a decade. Driven by Cold War rivalries, the United States had spent $25-billion – the equivalent of $120-billion today – to beat the former Soviet Union to the moon. Yet the impossible soon became commonplace, if not dull. Six missions followed Apollo 11, but were greeted mostly with public apathy, except for the near-disastrous Apollo 13.
Three years after its great triumph, the lunar program was wrapped up. Twelve men had reached the surface, and on Dec. 19, 1972, the last of the lunar pioneers, Gene Cernan, ended the visit of Apollo 17 with these words: “We leave as we came and, God willing, as we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind.”
That return, Mr. Cernan suggested, would come “not too long into the future,” but 37 years later, it has yet to happen. In fact, no human has even ventured beyond Earth's orbit in that time. Today, just nine of those who made moon walks are still alive, and there is a strong possibility that none of them will be around to see someone retrace their boot tracks.
Hope was rekindled in January, 2004, when George W. Bush, perhaps gearing up to campaign for his second presidential term, announced an ambitious plan to be back on the moon by 2020, and eventually go on to Mars. “We choose to explore space because doing so improves our lives and lifts our national spirit,” he declared.
However, he failed to follow through with enough money to get the program truly off the ground, and now his successor is sending out seriously mixed signals. Barack Obama's debut budget in February promised a boost for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, but in May he ordered a full review of the manned space-flight program.
The results of the review are due in August, yet last month the congressional subcommittee that controls NASA's budget ordered a spending freeze for 2010, describing it as “a time-out to allow the President to establish his vision.”
On July 20, 1969, Apollo 11 astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin (Buzz) Aldrin, the first men to land on the moon, plant the U.S. flag on the lunar surface.
The time-out comes at a cost of $670-million (U.S.), so it's unlikely there will be fresh boot prints in lunar soil any time soon. That means the only people who can give a first-hand account of what it's like to visit another world are men now in their 70s and 80s.
To mark the 40th anniversary of the first landing, some of those space veterans will gather in Washington in two weeks, and the reclusive Mr. Armstrong is expected to make a rare public appearance at the National Air and Space Museum, which houses space capsules and priceless relics from lunar exploration.
He and Apollo 11 crewmates Edwin (Buzz) Aldrin and Michael Collins will present a lecture about their incredible journey, and later join other Apollo-era astronauts to raise a glass to the glory days.
Mr. Armstrong has assiduously avoided the spotlight. He left NASA in 1971, returning to his native Ohio for a low-profile teaching position in the department of aerospace engineering at the University of Cincinnati. He rarely grants interviews and is said to keep his distance from anyone who might try to capitalize on his fame.
