On July 20, 1969, American
astronauts Neil Armstrong
(1930-2012) and Edwin
"Buzz" Aldrin (1930-)
became the first humans
ever to land on the
moon. /
courtesy photo.
|
Apollo
11 has links to Latin
America
By Jay Brodell
Founder and editor emeritus of
A.M. Costa Rica
Everyone recognizes that the
Apollo 11 flight was a gigantic
scientific success, but less
known is that the lunar flight
was a big boost for the
political standing of the United
States. In fact, the government
specifically targeted the Third
World for a massive public
relations campaign.
At the time, July 1969,
worldwide television links did
not exist. There were networks
in Latin America, but these did
not receive signals from the
United States. Washington
officials wanted to make sure
that all of Latin America
witnessed the moon landing.
The officials took a big chance.
Had the Apollo 11 mission been a
disaster, most of the world
would be watching. As it turned
out, even a life-long communist
cheered the landing.
I happened to be in Venezuela in
1969. I remember spending an
oppressively hot day at the new
Maracaibo airport that was
nothing more than a concrete
runway and a 6-by-10-foot shed.
The airport would not go into
service for six months more. But
U.S. Air Force pilots received
permission to land there.
The strip now is called La
Chinita International Airport.
When I was there, we thought the
perfect name would be Downtown
Hades. At 235 feet elevation,
with a bright blue, cloudless
tropical sky and blistering
heat, we few reporters huddled
in the shadow of the hut.
The new airport certainly was
needed because the older airport
closer to the Venezuelan city
was the scene of a major
passenger jet disaster four
months earlier. The cause was an
over-optimistic airline pilot,
an overweight Viasa aircraft, a
short runway and the blistering
heat.
We were awaiting the arrival of
two U.S. C-130 Hercules aircraft
that were carrying the satellite
station that would connect Latin
American television to the
United States for the first
time. After the first craft
landed, the pilot provided wind
and weather information to his
colleagues who arrived about 20
minutes later.
The cargo was among many that
the U.S. government was
distributing throughout the
world to make sure live coverage
of the moon landing was broadly
available even in places with
lagging technology.
Two weeks later just before noon
July 16 my wife, Sharon, and I
were standing among many
Venezuelans on the sidewalk in
front of the U.S. Centro
Venezolano-Americano cultural
center in the Las Mercedes
sector of Caracas. Center
workers had wheeled a cart and
television set to the front door
for all to see the Apollo 11
liftoff.
Their reaction may sound like a
cliché, but the spectators
expressed shock that the
Saturn V rocket took off from
the Kennedy Space Center in
Florida at exactly the time
officials had set. Venezuelans
are as blasé about exact time as
are Costa Ricans.
Four days later the entire staff
of the English-language Daily
Journal in Caracas huddled in
the newsroom in the black and
white light of a television. I
had purchased a bottle of scotch
to celebrate the landing or to
ease my pain if something went
wrong.
The landing was slick with Neil
Armstrong and lunar module pilot
Buzz Aldrin putting the craft
where the landing had been
planned. My wife was especially
pleased because she had worked
on creating the trainer for the
lunar module. As Armstrong made
his giant leap for mankind, I
cracked open the bottle. Someone
produced a stack of those little
conical paper cups used at water
fountains, and the entire staff,
mostly Venezuelans, joined in a
toast.
The employees who worked in the
printing department of the daily
newspaper were refugees from
Spain who had battled
unsuccessfully the forces of
Francisco Franco along with the
Spanish government, communists,
anarchists and union members.
The work force maintained its
military hierarchy. The Linotype
operator known as Don Victor was
the sergeant. Everyone else
deferred to him even though some
workers were already the second
generation.
We wondered how an avowed
leftist would react to the great
success of the capitalistic
United States. Don Victor stood
up, summoned the office boy,
gave him a wad of cash and sent
him scurrying to buy yet another
bottle of scotch.
Coincidentally, today, the Cinco
de Julio, is Venezuelan
Independence Day, marking the
decision in 1811 to cut links
with the Spanish crown. With the
situation deteriorating in the
country every day, I often
wonder how my fellow workers
have faired. Certainly they do
not work at the newspaper. The
Daily Journal folded in 2008
after circulation plunged from
20,000 to 1,000 a day and
despite becoming an ally of
President Hugo Chávez.
The newspaper has an impressive
legacy because hundreds of U.S.,
Latin American and European
newspeople worked there since
its start in 1945 and added
foreign experience and
understanding to their resumes.
In fact, A.M. Costa Rica
continues that tradition.
|
