Neil Armstrong shot to
world-wide fame as the first person to step on the surface of the moon, a feat
that marked a new era of human exploration. For the rest of his life he largely
shunned the limelight.
Mr. Armstrong waved as he headed to the van that
would take the crew to the rocket at Kennedy Space Center on July 16, 1969.
Mr. Armstrong's family released a statement
Saturday confirming that he died from complications "resulting from
cardiovascular procedures" performed Aug. 8, three days after his 82nd
birthday.
As commander of Apollo 11 in 1969, Mr. Armstrong
punctuated his exploit with the memorable phrase, "That's one small step
for man, one giant leap for mankind." The mission transfixed people around
the globe, including nearly one million spectators who flocked to the Florida
launch site.
He resisted getting caught up in the hoopla, years
later calling himself a "nerdy engineer." Bucking intense pressure to
use his celebrity status for political purposes or personal gain, the
self-effacing Midwesterner left it to others to ponder the significance and
broader meaning of his accomplishment.
Armstrong, before he blasted off for the moon in
1969 with Michael Collins and Edwin 'Buzz' Aldrin.
The statement from Mr. Armstrong's family referred
to him as "a reluctant American hero who always believed he was just doing
his job."
Mr. Armstrong was born in Wapakoneta, Ohio, on Aug.
5, 1930, and spent part of his teenage years on a farm about 60 miles from
where Orville and Wilbur Wright more than 25 years earlier experimented. He
took his first airplane ride at 6 years old.
Mr. Armstrong flew 78 missions as a Navy combat
pilot in the Korean War and later gained prominence as a civilian government
test pilot.
During his historic moon exploration on July 20,
1969, some of Mr. Armstrong's other transmissions reflected his unflappable
demeanor. Before returning to a ticker-tape parade and a 28-city world tour,
the aviator was understated in describing his situation and surroundings some
240,000 miles above Earth. In one of his first transmissions to controllers on
the ground, he calmly told them: "I tell you, we're going to be busy for a
minute."
Later in the mission, Mr. Armstrong, who earned his
pilot's license as a teenager and idolized Charles Lindbergh, epitomized the
calm, assured tone astronauts prized. "It's different, but it's very
pretty out here," he matter-of-factly told controllers. "I suppose
they are going to make a big deal of all this."
After the voyage, Mr. Armstrong worked for a year
as a high-level official at National Aeronautics and Space Administration
headquarters. In his authorized biography, published in 2005, Mr. Armstrong
fumed at the bureaucracy and the burden of frequent "appearances on
demand" by lawmakers on Capitol Hill. He resigned and went on to teach at
the University of Cincinnati.
Starting about 1980, he largely retreated from
public view to enjoy the tranquillity of a restored 19th-century farmhouse. He
raised cattle and corn, served on corporate boards and enjoyed his
grandchildren. Always reluctant to talk to reporters, Mr. Armstrong sometimes
seemed uncomfortable even when he gave speeches or attended events commemorating
advances in aviation and space.
Before the Apollo 11 launch, armies of reporters
vainly tried to find out what personal items the crew decided to carry with
them. It wasn't until more than three decades later that Mr. Armstrong revealed
to his biographer, James Hansen, that his personal memorabilia included some
jewelry for his wife and mother, an old fraternity pin from Purdue University
and some Apollo 11 medallions. According to the book, however, Mr. Armstrong
was most proud of safely transporting a piece of the historic Wright Brothers
Flyer to and from the Moon.
Even at his death, the family statement stressed
his private side. "As much as Neil cherished his privacy," it said,
"he always appreciated the expressions of good will from people around the
world and from all walks of life."
Mr. Armstrong's biography quotes his first wife,
Janet, saying that he "didn't like being singled out or to feel that
people were still wanting to touch him or get his autograph." The two
divorced in 1994, and Mr. Armstrong remarried that year.
In January 1986, when the space shuttle Challenger
exploded shortly after liftoff killing all seven aboard, then-President Ronald
Reagan personally asked Mr. Armstrong to serve as vice chairman of the
commission set up to investigate the accident. In some of the group's public
sessions, the former NASA loyalist turned out to be tough and persistent in
demanding answers from government officials and contractors alike. Besides
focusing on management lapses, at one point Mr. Armstrong pointedly called the
rocket and its external boosters "a tender design."
In the late 1990s, Mr. Armstrong sold his personal
plane but kept his pilot's license for the occasional opportunity to fly an
unusual or interesting aircraft.
The Armstrong family's statement ends with the
following request: "Honor his example of service, accomplishment and
modesty, and the next time you walk outside on a clear night and see the moon
smiling down at you, think of Neil Armstrong and give him a wink."
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