Moon landing celebrated in Manawatu
Do you remember the first Moon landing?
On Sunday July 20, 1969, the world heard the nowfamous words ‘‘The Eagle has landed’’ for the first time. That day, at 2.56pm New Zealand time, United States astronaut Neil Armstrong stepped out of the lunar module Eagle and became the first human to walk on the Moon, followed by Edwin ‘‘Buzz’’ Aldrin, while Michael Collins manned the Apollo 11 spacecraft above.
Here in Palmerston North, the Manawatu Standard’s city edition of Monday July 21 had a special front page featuring the Moon landing and news of the celebrations worldwide. Top left featured a photo of the newsflash sent out over the NZ Press Association’s teleprinter circuit, one minute after the Moon landing.
A large black and white photo showed Armstrong earlier, practising on Earth for his descent down the module’s ladder to the Moon surface.
An article directly underneath: Drug Rushed to PN But Patient Dies, detailed the flight of a rare medical drug from Philadelphia to Palmerston North, for a comatose man with a thyroid-deficiency condition. An hour after the drug arrived, as it was being sterilised for injection at the public hospital, the unnamed man had died.
Englishman David Threlfall, 26, of Lancashire, was pictured with a happy grin. He’d ‘‘won £10,000 as the result of a bet he made with a London bookmaker five years ago that man would land on the Moon before the end of 1970’’.
A third photo, of Masterton composer Jenny Mcleod, illustrated a report about the major musical work she’d been commissioned to compose for the coming city centenary. Mcleod had listened to the Palmerston North Sinfonia and youth orchestra play in the concert chamber of the Opera House, but wasn’t totally satisfied with the performance.
‘‘She would not be writing pretty tunes, said Miss Mcleod. An amateur orchestra such as the Sinfonia could not produce what she intended to compose. The orchestra was primarily symphonic, and sections of it could be used for the flowing passages…’’
Mcleod was paid $1000 for the score of what would become the wildly successful extravaganza Under the Sun in May 1971, with a cast of 600, four orchestras, four choirs, 10 conductors and an enormous crew. Its theme – somewhat in tune with the Moon events – was the saga of the human race, from the first dawning of Earth to the eventual dying of the sun and the exodus to find a new planetary home.
Inside the newspaper, a fullpage ad had plugged into the lunar theme, with its headline: ‘‘Woolworths’ Space-age Sale. Rocket In For Your Share of Values.’’
An editorial compared the astronauts with intrepid explorers of old. Another was titled Guarding Against Earthquake Risk and Eruptions. The gist? We can’t, completely.
A passionate three-column letter to the editor was headed Schools Get Only the Crumbs from Muldoon’s Table. Milk was still being delivered from door to door in glass bottles and paid for with plastic tokens, in 1969. On page 3, two local milkmen, Mr PA Reid and Mr RD Milner, told the public that in freezing-cold weather, ‘‘freeing tokens from milk bottles after a frost added up to an hour to the average run… milkmen this morning had to set aside up to nine crates of bottles each. Some took them home to thaw out in the sun, while others did the job on the spot with buckets of warm water.’’ A spokesman for the milkmen suggested: ‘‘Customers should place their coins or tokens in a drained and dried bottle…’’
Freeing frozen tokens was ‘‘an occupational hazard accepted by milkmen, but the people could assist.’’ It was noted that ‘‘there was an 8.7 degree (Fahrenheit) frost this morning’’.
Influenza Hits PN Schools ran another headline. A Standard reporter wrote, after a survey of city primary, intermediate and high schools, and schools in Marton and Feilding: ‘‘An influenza epidemic appears to be rampant in the Manawatu, and as a result schools in Palmerston North have had their teaching schedules badly disrupted.’’
The fire brigade had gone out to three calls on Saturday night: to Bowden’s Garage on the corner of Andrew Young and Cuba streets, ‘‘where a gasket, being burned out of a sump, had ignited oil on the floor’’, to ‘‘a malicious false alarm to 47 Waldegrave St’’ and ‘‘to the corner of Fitzherbert Ave and Park Rd, to wash spilled petrol from the road following a motor accident’’.
The Majestic Hotel was advertising a telecast of the Moon landing in its ladies’ and escorts lounge that night, with TV sets placed strategically around the room. ‘‘In between telecasts, the band will be playing. A vocalist will sing for you. Steaks will be served on request.’’
And on page 5, a headline that would resound into the future: Senator Kennedy in Fatal Accident. The car driven by Edward Kennedy had plunged off a narrow wooden bridge on Chappaquiddick Island, Massachusetts. His companion, Mary Jo Kopechne, was drowned.
And from the NZPA, Wellington, a note of levity: ‘‘The message was urgent, curt and priority, sent by the secretary for External Affairs, Mr George Laking, from his office. Grim-faced staff delivered it direct to the Prime Minister in the Cabinet room. Mr Holyoake opened it and read: ‘Memorandum to the Prime Minister: Understand US has received message from Armstrong and Aldrin which suggests the Moon is made of cheese.
‘‘This poses a new and serious threat to our export markets which Cabinet may have to consider – Laking.’’
Holyoake wrote back: ‘‘Dreadful news. Immediately request President Nixon to recall astronauts – without taking samples of the Moon’s structure.’’