It was Christmas Eve 1968.
America was mired in Vietnam abroad and civil unrest at home. But at that moment, it seemed that humanity was united.
The people of the world saw their planet as the astronauts saw it – fragile and beautiful – shining in the desolation of space.
Lovell read from the Book of Genesis, the basis of many of the world’s great religions, to the people of the Earth.
“And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.”
For him, it was an image that changed our world forever. He put his thumb against the window and the whole world disappeared behind it. It was the most moving experience of his life.
As the spacecraft re-emerged from the darkness, Lovell was first to announce the good news. “Please be advised,” he said as the radio crackled back into life, “there is a Santa Claus.”
At that very moment, 239,000 miles away, a man in a blue Rolls-Royce pulled up outside Lovell’s house in Houston.
He walked past the dozens of reporters camped outside and handed a box to Marilyn.
She opened the star-patterned tissue paper and pulled out a mink jacket. “Happy Christmas,” said the card that came with it, “and love from the Man in the Moon.”