Fifty years ago today, I remember being in 6th grade and watching John Glenn go into the first orbit of the earth. An article I read yesterday about John and that flight described him as the "Last Great American Hero." I agree. It was heady stuff for an 11-year-old to watch someone blast off into the unknown, on a little bitsy capsule, atop that great big rocket, and then hold your breath hoping he would come back.

If you weren't born then, nothing I can write will describe how risky that mission was, how much of a pioneer John Glenn was, and how much of a can do time the country was in. For that, you need to get and read Tom Wolfe's wonderful book, The Right Stuff.

Back then we marshaled our collective resources of industry and government to go to the moon. Today we, and our leaders, instead argue with each other about how much we can't do. Then we thought big, and look the good that came out of the science and technology unleashed by the space program. Today, such a hero would cash in on personal wealth. Then, all John Glenn did was go to Congress and quietly and modestly serve his country, and fellow man, year after year. Today, for to many of us, the enemy is anyone that thinks different than we. Then, maybe we were lucky, for we had a common enemy, the Soviet Union, instead of each other.

I have a more recent memory of John Glenn too, this one forty-eight years after the Marine fighter pilot showed us what he was made of. It was a Saturday morning a couple of years ago, and I had just come across the footbridge over the Olentangy river, headed to the Horseshoe. I was running later than I like and caught in the pregame crush of people going down the ramp from Lincoln Tower. It was one of those times when you are jammed in a sea of people, being swept along in the bouncing and jostling beyond your control. A wave came in from my left, quickly and unexpectedly, and knocked me into the person on my right. I turned to apologize, and who do I see it was that I bumped, but John Glenn, Mr. Right Stuff himself, in flesh and in person.

Just as quickly, the crowd swept us along again. He was gone before we had the chance to meet or greet. If we had, I hope I would have had the good sense simply to extend my hand and say, "Thank you for your service."

Godspeed Hero and Buckeye, John Glenn