I was nine. I remember our black and white TV, the crackling from the picture tube's high voltage wiring adding a tang of ozone. We stayed up late that night.

Er, no. Nothing like it. Grabbed from your bed in the middle of the night, bundled downstairs to watch (grainy) and hear (crackly) weird things on a black-and-white TV, while adults, including strangers, whooped and shouted drunkenly. I understood the Apollo 11 thing only in the days after, through news reports. The live event was as impenetrable to me as a dream. Then again, I was half-asleep and five years old.

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My grandma was one of the only person with a TV where she lived, half of the town was in her living room, nothing comparable. I bet most people watched this on their toilet seat before scrolling to the next cool thing as if it was nothing