Nows and Forevers

For me, there are only a handful of truly stirring moments on television. One is the Christmas Eve 1968 broadcast of Apollo 8, in orbit around the Moon, the first time human beings had ever left low-earth orbit.
Frank Borman, who died last week at age 95, was the commander of Apollo 8. It was overshadowed by Apollo 11’s landing on the Moon in July 1969. But if Borman and his crewmates Jim Lovell and Bill Anders hadn’t succeeded that December, then Neil Armstrong’s triumph wouldn’t have happened.
It’s clear 1968 was one of the most tumultuous years in recent American history: The assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy; the war in Vietnam; a bitter presidential campaign; and a lot of turmoil and protest and violence in the inner cities and college campuses across the country.
And yet at its end was Apollo 8, a daring mission to beat the Soviet Union around the moon and recapture the momentum of the space program and President Kennedy’s 1963 challenge after the death of three astronauts in a launchpad fire of Apollo 1 in January 1967.
To say Apollo 8 was dangerous was an understatement: Translunar injection and a trip around the Moon had never been attempted by humans before. It wasn’t even the mission Borman, Anders and Lovell had trained for. The mission changed and Borman and his crew not only adapted, they did it perfectly, paving the way for the Apollo 11 success.
I think, looking back, Borman was the perfect commander for that mission. He wasn’t an astronaut because he wanted to go to the Moon. He went because he wanted to make sure his country beat the Soviets there, he later told This American Life. Borman wasn’t there for the glory and he wasn’t there for the science. He was a patriot.
He just wanted to get the job done.
You get that sense reading Andrew Chaikin’s brilliant book, “A Man on the Moon,” and how he kept Lovell and Anders on track (and not looking out the window so much).
And still they captured that famous earth rise photograph. They were, after all, the first humans ever to see the back side of the moon.
It was, for a horrible year, a triumph the world — and not just the United States — could appreciate. Borman himself understood that, having received a card from someone that had three simple words:

“You saved 1968.”

They did. And they also delivered one of the most important telecasts ever, their Christmas Eve broadcast where they read from “Genesis.” It’s stirring even if you aren’t religious. Knowing where they were, so far away, looking back at the world as they were broadcasting, well, it’s still amazing, 55 years later:

Bill Anders:

We are now approaching lunar sunrise, and for all the people back on Earth, the crew of Apollo 8 has a message that we would like to send to you:

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the deep And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.
And God saw the light, that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness.

Jim Lovell:

And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
And God said, “Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.”
And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.
And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

Frank Borman:

And God said, “Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear”: and it was so.
And God called the dry land Earth, and the gathering together of waters called he seas: and God saw that it was good.

And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas — ad God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth.

I was only an infant then. But when I first saw that clip, in the ‘70s, when I was starting to get interested in the space program, it sent chills down my spine.
It still does. I watch it every Christmas Eve.