Forty years ago, we landed on the moon. Over at tor.com, there’s a wonderful series of recollections about that day. They are particularly interesting in that they are all from science fiction and fantasy writers, people who are paid primarily to dream about the future. The over-arching pattern in the reminiscences seem to be a mixture of fulfillment - a sense of yes, this is what we’ve been waiting for - and a sense of disappointment that the momentum didn’t carry forward, that the promise of that day was broken.
Another common thread is a sense of history, a sense of knowing, and of being part of something momentous unfolding. This got me thinking about history and memory in general. I wasn’t born when we landed on the moon. So I was trying to think of moments in my own life that I knew I was living history.
There are things I remember mostly for the aftermath, the cloning of Dolly the Sheep, and the death of Princess Diana. There are a few moments that I remember clearly - where I was, how I felt - moments where there was a sense of history. I remember the most recent Quebec referendum, and the outbreak of the first Iraq war. I would like to think that, as time goes forward, I will always remember where I was when I listened to the inauguration speech of America’s first black president.There are moments of personal history too, things that are only important and momentous to me and my family.
I wonder what the future will bring, what other moments will crystallize in my mind. Will there be moments that I say yes, this is what I’ve been waiting for And will the promise of those moment be fulfilled?