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The Last Man on the Moon
for Gene Cernan
My gaze was set toward the Western sky,
To see if I could see him flashing by,
I’d never felt so glad to be alive,
With my model of the mighty Saturn five.
With “Countdown, engines on you’re good to go,”
The fireball lit the faces down below.
The World was rumbling hard and scared to death,
We crossed our beating hearts and held our breath.
But as he saw the Earth slip far away,
He called out to his family just to say,
“I miss you all, I pray I’ll be home soon,
I’m the last man to walk upon the Moon.”
That picture of the Earthrise made us small,
I had a poster of it on my bedroom wall.
That wispy ball of blue just hanging there,
This paradise for all of us to share.
Our fears and all our worries came to nought,
“Perhaps we’ll all stop fighting,” so I thought.
But such desires lie in the minds of men,
Who only get to dream them now and then.
For as his capsule tumbled from the sky,
We never thought our hopes would slowly die.
Our TVs flickered all that afternoon,
For the last man to walk upon the Moon.
He did his best as every father must,
And wrote his daughter’s name deep in the dust.
For many years, he knew that it would stay,
An age would pass ‘til others came that way.
He climbed the shaky ladder one last time,
As in the tiny capsule, now confined,
A teardrop trickled from his weary eye,
Just as the distant Earth went rolling by.
He thought about the many miles he’d roamed,
As he waited for the blast to take him home.
As we all sang that David Bowie tune*
For the last man to walk upon the Moon.
.
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Jeff Eardley lives in the heart of England near to the Peak District National Park and is a local musician playing guitar, mandolin and piano steeped in the music of America, including the likes of Ry Cooder, Paul Simon, and particularly Hank Williams.
What a touching and beautiful tribute to a remarkable man, Jeff. I like the way you weave his love of family, his vision of peace, and Bowie’s theme tune for this poem throughout Gene Cernan’s story… a lovely read indeed!
Susan, thanks for your kind comment. I was always a juvenile astronomer in those heady days. We always thought that technology would take us to Mars and beyond. Instead, we have ended up with Facebook.
“Instead, we have ended up with Facebook.” I love that! For a long time, I’ve thought it was quite telling of who we are as a culture that our primary use of space travel in recent years has been satellite television, and that we use that same television to watch actors play astronauts.
Quality nostalgia, Jeff.
I also had a Saturn V model rocket and recall collecting mission badges from cereal packets. Heady days.
And to be the last man on the moon….
Thanks for the read.
Thanks Paul. I too had the Saturn 5 model as well as the intricate Lunar module. It was a great period of pioneering that seemed to melt away. Hope you have still got those mission badges.
Jeff, while this is a fine memorial to Gene Cernan, it’s also a wistful remembrance of what space exploration (and the Apollo program in particular) meant to the world. 2022 is, I believe, fifty years after that last walk on the Moon. Your poem brings many memories to me who grew up on Florida’s Space Coast. It wasn’t just “now and then” dreaming to us: I could see the launches from less than 10 miles away, and my father worked on them. But neither was it just local business. Your poem captures what one of my high school class discussions considered the historical value of the space program. It was an exercise of the human and American spirit wishing to experience new places firsthand, and to know more of ourselves and of God’s creation by doing so.
Margaret, thank you so much for your memories of that so hopeful period of your history. At that time, over here, it was all “2001, a Space Odyssey,” Arthur C Clarke novels, endless nights in the back yard with the telescope and a hope that we could be strolling on Mars for our Millenium celebrations. Oh how hopes and dreams can die.
A wonderful poem, Jeff, which is infused with the optimism of an era which now seems a distant memory. It once seemed like all things were possible — even the exploration of space. I was 8 years old when men first walked on the moon — my parents woke me up to see the live telecast — and it’s a memory that is still vivid for me. Arthur C. Clarke predicted hotels on the moon by the year 2001 so it’s disappointing to see how the space program has languished. Who would have thought in 1972 that there would be no more moon visits?! Thank you for the reminder both of a fabled past and the promise of great things yet to be fulfilled.
Brian, thanks for taking the time to comment. It was a great time in the history of your nation and as a 19 year-old astronomer, I was in awe at the progress of the space programme. We hope that Artemis can re-kindle that pioneer sprit that you guys do so well.
Great one, Jeff! I found these lines especially touching:
“He did his best as every father must,
And wrote his daughter’s name deep in the dust.
For many years, he knew that it would stay,
An age would pass ‘til others came that way.”
Joshua, I never realised that this would be published just as Artemis rose into the sky. I hope a new generation will be fired up with the boundless possibilities we enjoyed in those heady days. Thank you for your kind comment.