Our “Star Sailors” travelling farther away from their source of life than anyone ever has traveled before, are circling the Moon today, four thousand miles beyond the flight of three men of Apollo 13, seeing parts of the noon only mechanical recording system have seen.

They are spending about six hours in their Orion spacecraft photographing places on the back side of the moon. And then they will sling shot back for a fiery return to our blue marble

Fifty-seven years ago, at Christmas 1968, three men from the planet earth saw what only had been seen with telescopes and the naked eye for millennia. Apollo 8’s Frank Borman, Jim Lovell, and Bill Anders described the black and white images we saw of a gray and black world below them as they looped around the moon.

To those of us who could not take our eyes from our television screens showing us a desolate place almost a quarter-million miles away, the event was astounding. All of the science fiction we had read since we were in grade school dissolved in the reality of what we and the rest of his precious planet were witnessing along with those three men.

The men of Apollo 8 later showed us color photographs of earthrise over the Moon and the first photograph of the round blue marble as they left it behind and to which they gratefully returned.

It was Anders who is credited with seeing the entire earth at a glance who likened it to a fragile “little Christmas tree ornament against an infinite backdrop of space, the only color in the whole universe we could see. It seemed so very finite.” This image from Apollo 8 was the first time we saw what they saw—how alone we are.

The four astronauts aboard the Artemis II flight these five decades later, are the first people since December 1972 and Apollo 17 to let us see it again. To a new generation, to whom the daring dash to the Moon by Apollo 8 is only a page in a history books, the adventure is renewed.  Its goal, different from the Apollo landings, an exciting reach for humanity, perhaps re-establishes a focus on something greater than petty politics and near-constant wars.

Perhaps in these and other photographs to come will end decades of looking inward and increasingly finding the worst of ourselves and once again lift us to rediscover a time when, as one of the original Apollo astronauts said, “nothing was impossible.”

It brings back echoes of President Kennedy’s speech at Rice University in 1962 when called for this country to send astronauts to the moon and bring them back safely.

We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress of all people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force for good or ill depends on man, and only if the United States occupies a position of pre-eminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of peace or a new terrifying theater of war. 

He saw he mission to the Moon would “serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skill.”

A new generation now picks up that challenge as the last of the old generation waits to learn what “new knowledge is gained, what new rights will be won and used for the benefit of all people.”

Carl Sagan, an astronomer of another generation whose television series Cosmos explained the wonders of the universe and mankind’s place in one tiny place in the vast emptiness of space, once showed a photograph taken far, far, farther away than these from Apollo and Artemis.

The photograph taken from 3.7 billion miles from us show only a tiny blue dot.  “Look again at that dot,” he said. “That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ‘superstar,’ every ‘supreme leader,’ every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there—on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.”

The next step will be to send a new generation of Moonwalkers to make the dangerous descent,  to find new discoveries, and—we all hope—leave new footprints behind before they come home.

Geologist Harrison Schmitt was the last man to set foot on the Moon, the only true scientist to be there so far.  But Mission Commander Gene Cernan was the last man to leave a footprint on the Moon as he climbed the ladder to the Lunar Lander behind Schmitt.  He looked forward to the return and had some advice for the next people who step onto the lunar soil:

Cernan told Politico a few years ago:

There are times when I find myself almost involuntarily gazing at the moon — looking back on a time in my life that seems unreal. Oh, I’ve been there, all right, and know that my last footprints, along with Tracy’s initials, will be there forever — however long forever is. But it is not the past that any longer challenges me, but rather the future. Our destiny is to explore, discovery is our goal — curiosity being the essence of human existence. I often ask myself if we will ever go again where humans have never been before and see again what has never been seen before. The answer is absolutely yes.

In 1969, the world took a giant leap into the future as the result of that one small step by Neil Armstrong. Many more steps were to follow Neil’s, launching us into a new era of science, technology and, perhaps most important, discovery led by a new generation of young, eager scientists, engineers and educators who were inspired to accept the challenge and committed to see their dreams fulfilled. Today’s media coverage of that epic moment seems to many like science fiction. But it wasn’t. It was science fact and continues to this day to have significant impact on our lives, on our future, and, indeed, on the entire world. The benefits that have followed were hardly imaginable at the time. One of the core lessons from Apollo is that the greatest advances in science and technology happen as a byproduct of the bold steps we take when committing ourselves to expanding human knowledge and understanding. Perhaps the most important byproduct of Kennedy’s vision that took us to the moon is the passion inspired in the hearts and minds of those generations who follow in our footsteps.

We have again reached a challenge in human history. The moon, Mars and beyond — they are calling. The technology and systems to again reach for the stars are now within our reach. The benefits are there for us to claim. However, it will take the will of the American people, a sustained political commitment, and, once again, a leader with foresight and vision. Now is the time for America to recognize with pride our nation’s exceptionalism, regain our leadership in space and lead the free world on the next giant leap for mankind.

Today’s highly evolved and improved answer to Apollo is the Space Launch System and the Orion crew exploration spacecraft. Together they can open the door to the future, providing the capabilities we need, allowing us to finally reach the furthest frontiers of space. NASA and industry are making significant progress with the development of these deep space systems. American workers across the nation are making the probability of future space exploration again attainable. If I can call the moon my home before today’s generation was even born, what challenge can be beyond their reach? The driving force is the understanding that human space exploration is essential to the vitality of our nation, providing untold opportunity for generations to come.

Bipartisan support for space has remained strong since the days of Sputnik continuing to the present time. With determined leadership from the administration and ongoing support from Congress, we can enable NASA and industry to complete their work to build the systems we need to explore beyond the moon.

With SLS/Orion we are ready to seek out what the heavens have to offer — it is time for our nation’s leaders to commit to a clear logical destination, a mission, a goal with a timetable, plotting a course of new discovery. It is time to re-ignite, to re-energize the meaning of American exceptionalism. It is time to recognize what it takes to inspire young minds to dream big and accept the challenges their generation faces. We have the responsibility to provide them the direction and the opportunity to once again reach beyond their grasp in leading mankind into the future of discovery.

In a later interview, Cernan said, “Their future is going to depend on what we did a half a century ago. I’d like to be here to congratulate them, to thank them, and ask them what people ask me all the time, ‘What did it feel like?’

”Enjoy. Take advantage of the opportunity. Don’t take anything for granted. Be prepared for what you don’t expect to happen, and know that you, whoever you are, can do it. Not only can you do it, but can do it better than it’s ever been done before.“

Gene Cernan didn’t make it to this day. He died nine years ago.

Those who are sharing their view of the Moon with all of us here on “the good green earth” of Apollo 8’s Christmas message are the table-setters for those who will next land. Perhaps in this new era of exploration we will rediscover a belief in ourselves that has been dwindling since those days when “nothing was impossible.”

Only four of those who walked on the Moon survive.  Buzz Aldrin is 95 and in poor health. Dave Scott is 93. Charlie Duke, the youngest man to walk on the moon at age 36, is now 90. And Harrison Schmitte, the geologist who later became a U.S. Senator from New Mexico, also is 90. A dozen other men flew to the moon but did not walk upon it. Only Fred Haise of Apollo 13 survives from that group.

Just for the record: The remaining Apollo capsules were used to send nine astronauts to Skylab, our first space station. Joe Kerwin, 94, Jack Lousma, 90, and Edward (Hoot) Gibson, 89 are still with us.

Lousma and Haise were involved in the early flights of the Space Shuttle, as was moonwalker John Young (who died in 2018 as the only man to fly in the Gemini, Apollo, and Shuttle programs). Vance Brand, who would have commanded Apollo 18 if the program had not been cancelled, took part in the Skylab and Shuttle programs. He will be 95 next month.

NASA doesn’t plan a Moon landing until September 2028. We hope at least one of this generation will be here to welcome that crew back home.

(Earth pictures: NASA; Apollo astronaut Alan Bean, the fourth man to walk on the moon, an accomplished artist who spent the rest of his life depicting that earlier era of moon flights died in 2018. His work that gave its name to the title of this entry, is signed by more than twenty of the Apollo astronauts. Several of his prints are available through Novaspace.com or on various other internet sies)