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When I was a kid these guys represented the acme of cool. Sure, I liked baseball and football players and idolized many sports figures, but astronauts played in a much higher league in my book. If you had asked me, at around age 10, "Brian, what do you want to be when you grow up," I would have responded astronaut, followed by archaeologist or astronomer. Of course, it didn't hurt to have my dad's older brother - an engineer for NASA in Houston - who sent me NASA-related books and toys. Visits to the Johnson Space Center in Houston or the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C., always left me in rapturous awe. I wanted, for just 5 minutes, to try on one of the suits and sit in a capsule. To be honest, I haven't lost that enthusiasm . . . nor have I discarded that child-like yearning to climb into an old Mercury or Gemini capsule, just to have a momentary sense of what the astronauts experienced. (Jim Lovell, who flew with Frank Borman on the 14-day Gemini 7 mission - a mission that executed a rendezvous with Wally Schirra and Tom Stafford in Gemini 6 - likened life in a Gemini capsule to living for two weeks in the front seat of a Volkswagon Beetle.)
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So here's a tip of the hat to Wally Schirra and his fellow astronauts, whether American or Russian. Let's hope that we can honor their legacy by recapturing that spirit of adventure in the 21st century.
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