In the late 60s and early 70s, my mom, dad, sister, and I would take a week-long driving trip during the school summer vacation. It was usually the four of us driving the family car to visit relatives or friends of my parents in South Dakota, Michigan, or New Mexico.
In August of 1972, our trip took us to South Dakota where my mom’s aunts and cousins lived in Viborg and Centerville . I was 11 years old at the time. We happened to stop at the Sioux Falls fair on our way. I do not recall everything we did there or how long we stayed, but I do remember there was a moon rock exhibit.
It was the first day of the exhibit and the Konopacki family was first in line. It just so happened that the local radio news reporter was there to interview the first person to see the exhibit, which was me! (My mother may have had something to do with that …) I vaguely remember the moment. I am sure I didn’t say anything profound. The reporter probably said, “Are you excited to be the first to see the moon rock exhibit?” and I probably sheepishly replied, “Yes.”
The focal point of the exhibit was one rock under a glass display case. It was in a tent with other exhibits about the Apollo 11 mission. Even though I was interested in science and space at that time, as an 11-year old boy, I did not comprehend the massive effort made by the United States to send a man to the moon and return with a small piece of it.
