I love space. I love the fear of the unknown meshing simultaneously with the allure of discovery. I love that no matter how far we go, there are lifetimes of stars yet to see. I also love how mere mortal men dared to fashion a suit that would sustain life during exploration. For that reason alone our Astronauts should be deemed heroes.
The book Spacesuit: Fashioning Apollo describes in pictorial detail the trials and tribulations that our scientists went through to ensure safety in the heavens. Or, in realistic terms, how many twist ties and foil it would take to keep someone alive long enough to tell us about it when they got home.
Spacesuit’s author Nicholas de Monchaux writes:
“A space suit is made out of a flight suit, a Goodrich tire, a bra, a girdle, a raincoat, a tomato worm. An American rocket ship is made out of a nuclear weapon, and a German ballistic missile; a ‘space program’ — a new organization with new goals — is made out of preexisting military, scholarly, and industrial institutions and techniques.”