Remembering Michael Collins, Apollo 11 ’s Third—and Essential—Man

Few people think about the time Michael Collins didn’t go to the moon. Collins, who died of cancer on April 28 at age 90, is best remembered as Apollo 11’s command module pilot—in some ways the unluckiest man on the luckiest mission of all time. It was Apollo 11 that, in the summer of 1969, stuck the first crewed lunar landing, taking Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin down to the surface, while Collins, bless him, stayed aloft in the command module orbiting 60 miles above, keeping his uniform clean and white while his crewmates got dirty on the endless gray beach that is the moon. All three men got the credit, all three got the parades and the medals and the world tour and the TV appearances. But Armstrong and Aldrin were the two truly limned in the light of history. Collins? Well, said many, his was a yeoman’s job. It wasn’t, of course, but never mind. History had other plans for Collins, and in some ways he had already made his mark—a much subtler and arguably richer mark—seven months earlier during the celebrated Dec. 1968 flight of Apollo 8, the first time human beings ventured out to the moon—albeit just to orbit, not to land and walk around. Collins was originally tapped to fly on that mission, but a bone spur in his spine grounded him until he could undergo surgery. He ended up in Mission Control instead, working the capsule communicator, or “Capcom,” console. He was there throughout much of the flight, but most...
Source: TIME: Science - Category: Science Authors: Tags: Uncategorized Source Type: news