What a coincidence an interviewer wished to talk with Buzz Aldren about the Apollo mission which he emphatically refuses to talk about...Why all the HUSH? Could it be becasue it NEVER HAPPENED AND HE IS TIRED OF LYING ABOUT IT. BTW..In the movie DARK SIDE OF THE MOON, both Buzz's sister and wife talk about his depression and alcoholism right after eh hem coming back from the moon. Here he is now admitting he went through such. Now if DARK SIDE OF THE MOON was not true then why is this fact which is discussed at length in the movie surfacing now as TRUTH. Hmmmm...
Buzz Aldrin: the dark times that followed that historic flightAs we prepare to mark the fortieth anniversary of the Apollo 11 mission, Buzz Aldrin talks to Marc Lee about the depression and alcoholism he faced after his moon landing.
By Marc Lee
Published: 5:00PM BST 08 Jul 2009
A few minutes into our conversation, Buzz Aldrin makes it clear that we won't be spending much time reliving the day that began a new chapter in the history of the human race and made him one of the most famous people on – and off – the planet. It's not that the Second Man on the Moon doesn't want to talk about his space odyssey; it's just that he thinks he should be suitably rewarded for doing so.
Sharing his extraterrestrial experiences is, he concedes, "an appropriate and necessary thing: it's what people want. But I can't just keep doing that for ever in my life [he's 79] unless I'm appropriately compensated."
So, is he reluctant to talk about Apollo 11? "No, I wouldn't say I'm reluctant, but my [interest] is not in the past…" And he proceeds to roll out a diversionary anecdote about how, when he was young, his father would reminisce endlessly about the early days of aviation and how "regrettable" that was. He is and always has been, he says, "future-oriented".
Surprisingly, Aldrin's reservations about describing what it's like to kick up moon dust for an hour and a half, as he did on July 20, 1969, are in marked contrast to his willingness to discuss – free of charge – the dark side of his life: his struggles with depression and alcoholism, his two failed marriages, his difficult relationship with his father, and the tragedy of his mother (born Marion Moon), who killed herself shortly before the lunar mission because she did not think she could handle her son's imminent fame.
And, while refusing to elaborate on his celebrated description of the Moon's "magnificent desolation" – the title of his new autobiography – he is happy to talk about the man who accompanied him on his incredible journey. Not that happy is quite the word to describe his relationship with Neil Armstrong – now or 40 years ago.
Is he still in touch with Armstrong or Michael Collins, the third crew member, who stayed in lunar orbit? "Well," he says, not quite answering the question, "they have personalities that are different, each one, and they're different than mine. We worked together as a very close team, not jocular but very seriously determined to carry out [the task] we were given."
So it was a professional relationship? "Absolutely professional, yes."
And it didn't continue after Apollo 11? "Not that much. Hardly at all."
He sees Armstrong very rarely: the last time was at Nasa's 50th anniversary celebrations in 2008. "I was expected to be there," he says, adding in passing an observation that throws a revealing light on their relationship: "No one mentioned that I was there."
Did they chat? "Not really." There was no conversation? "Not particularly."
Having shared with Armstrong such a wondrous, perilous, unprecedented adventure – one that redrew the boundaries of human experience – does it sadden Aldrin that there is no longer a bond between them, if indeed there ever was one?
"I'd rather it be otherwise, yeah. It just doesn't seem proper any more for me to ask him to come to things I'm involved in. And he doesn't ask me. He doesn't let me know what he's doing."
It is widely assumed that Aldrin resents the fact that it was Armstrong – the mission commander – who became the first person to set foot on another world. Wrong, says Aldrin, before explaining in detail why it was never going to be him.
In previous flights it had always been the junior officer who left the spacecraft first for EVA (extra-vehicular activity). But what people don't understand, he says, is that this precedent did not apply on the Moon because both of them were going to explore the surface, whereas previously only one astronaut was ever outside the craft at a time.
And, anyway, he says, it was never his ambition to be first. "I really didn't want that because of the added heartache [it would bring]. Even more questions about this and that…" Indeed he didn't even want to be on the first lunar landing. Later missions, he says, allowed more time for important scientific work.
"Clearly, there is a fetish among human beings about [being] first," he says, adding testily: "I really hate to be put in the position of trying to justify something, a decision that was made. I'm a military guy: when a decision is made, I go along with it, whatever the manufactured controversy and criticism."
After Apollo 11, the 39-year-old Aldrin found it difficult to readjust to life on Earth. His marriage of 21 years soon broke up, he remarried in haste and was divorced for a second time within two years. His military career ended after an unhappy stint as commandant of the USAF test-pilot school. (He had been a fighter pilot, with 66 combat missions over Korea in the early Fifties, but never a test pilot.) He began to suffer acutely from depression, and finally confronted the fact that he was an alcoholic.
It is a measure of how much his life changed, and how quickly, that within eight years of the tickertape parades and being feted around the world as a hero of our times, he ended up working at the Cadillac dealership in Beverly Hills. Not that he sold a single car in the six months or so he spent there.
Then came an ignominious encounter with the police after he drunkenly broke down the door of his girlfriend's apartment. Was this, I ask, when he hit rock bottom? Aldrin doesn't hold back: "When you've seen your family break up, then you get into an erroneous relationship, and you get married again, and that turns sour, then you're looking for some companionship, and that gets kinda complex, and somebody takes advantage in a way that really irritates you as a stalker and an obsessive… you really get kinda frustrated. And, if you're still drinking, you make some pretty dumb decisions."
Fortunately, within a couple of years, Aldrin regained control of his life. He stopped drinking in 1978 and has been sober ever since. He and his third wife, Lois, celebrated their 21st wedding anniversary on Valentine's day this year.
Nevertheless, he is still troubled by the demands of worldwide celebrity and the many ways in which he feels he has been exploited since Apollo. He has had a long-running dispute with the Omega over the use of pictures of him wearing one of their watches on the Moon, for which he has never been paid. "How could they do that?" he asks, infuriated.
More recently, he was exasperated when Disney appropriated his name for the character Buzz Lightyear in the hit movie Toy Story. He could sue, but knows it would reflect badly on him: "You don't want to tangle with Disney, the friend of children. You don't want to challenge their lawyers – for sure, you're going to lose."
So, knowing what he knows now about all the anguish that was to follow, would he still have chosen to go to the Moon? "Absolutely, yeah. I have gained so much by facing adversity. I had a shrink who said, 'Buzz, you are so lucky that you had to change, to grow. You are a better person now.'
"I believe that. I have a lot of frailties, a lot of shortcomings, but I am a much more productive person now than I ever was at the peak of my astronaut career."
