The first meal eaten on the moon was turkey.
It didn’t come with with mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes, sunny butter skimming plateward in trails, sweet potatoes with tanned marshmallows, or stuffing with spicy sausage. It was vacuum-sealed. As the astronauts ate their turkey, they probably thought about the buttons they needed to push, the job they had to do. They thought of their families. Their country. Their legacy. But not their turkey.
When you eat a turkey dinner, usually it is in celebration or commemoration. Few people indulge in a full-blown feast of roast turkey and all the trimmings on random Tuesday nights when the kids have math homework and the sticky baby needs a bath. As Neil, Michael, and Buzz zipped open their food packs, perhaps they joked it wasn’t quite how mother used to make it. Maybe one of them quipped that it wasn’t too far off. Nervous laughter.
They didn’t have time to reflect. The precision required and the demands of their mission left little room for mistakes. They knew nearly the entire teeming Earth above was holding collective breath, waiting for the rush only a giant leap provides.
Did anyone on July 20th, 1969 consider how extraordinary it was that three men had just eaten turkey on the moon? I know people understood the significance of the moment. But was it even reported they ate a turkey dinner before they stepped out of the landing module? Turkey is an ugly bird, native of North America. Fat, clumsy, trotting, unglorious. Yet it is the chosen provider and official poultry of Thanksgiving and other important holidays and holy days. The unbecoming, the last picked for the team, the most-likely-to-fail-miserably-bird fueled Pilgrims, native American friends, and space explorers.
A turkey will cook in my oven tomorrow. I don’t have to make a giant leap or wear a shiny helmet. But I will look around and know I am blessed to share one thing in common with the Apollo 11 crew. We ate our turkey on the Sea of Tranquility, a destined landing spot and perfect place for a view of God’s creation.


