While the World Watched the Moon Landing, They Were There for the Armstrongs
- By Naama Lanski ·


In July 1969, the eyes of the entire world were glued to their television screens. But the eyes of MyHeritage user Bob Kreienkamp, then a young video camera operator for the TV station WIMA in Lima, Ohio, were laser focused through a viewfinder on a modest front yard in Wapakoneta, Ohio.
“I was 21 years old, and my assignment was both simple and nerve-wracking: set up our heavy broadcasting equipment outside the home of Stephen and Viola Armstrong, and be ready to broadcast any live interviews they give to the global television pool feeds. At the time, Life magazine held the exclusive rights to be inside the house with the family, which meant all the major television networks — NBC, CBS, ABC — had to wait outside. If Stephen and Viola wanted to speak to the world, they had to step out onto their lawn.
The small steps behind one giant leap
“It was a brutally hot and humid Ohio summer. My supervisor and chief engineer, Mory Lamb, and I spent three days before the scheduled moonwalk setting up our cameras, running cables, and securing a massive microwave tower scaffolding contracted just to relay our signal. We stood on raised platforms in the stifling, direct sunlight, sweating, checking and double-checking our gear. In television, you only get one chance to get it right.
“And then, the front door opened. It was Viola Armstrong, holding a tray of ice-cold lemonade and fresh cookies. She was genuinely worried about us working out there in the hot July sun.
“I remember looking at her and thinking: Imagine that. Her eldest son, Neil, was sitting in a capsule on his way to the moon. She had no earthly guarantee she would ever see him alive again. The sheer weight of maternal anxiety she must have been carrying was unimaginable. Yet, there she was, stepping out of her quiet home to make sure a group of sweaty camera technicians had cold drinks.
“That single, simple gesture defined the character of the Armstrong family for me. She raised a son who became the most famous man on Earth back then, but stayed grounded and modest. Armstrong bypassed immense wealth, choosing instead to quietly teach engineering at the University of Cincinnati. His legendary humility and quiet brilliance were instilled in him right there, in that Wapakoneta home, by a mother who cared about strangers in her yard.
“Neil Armstrong took one giant leap for mankind, but it was his mother’s small, humble steps across a hot lawn with a tray of lemonade that taught me how the greatest moments in history are built on simple acts of human kindness.”
Documenting the homecoming parade
“Weeks after returning to Earth, Armstrong visited Wapakoneta for a massive homecoming parade. The streets were flooded with thousands of people. I attended again, carrying a $12 Kodak camera to capture my own memories.
“I managed to photograph Neil smiling from an open-top car, along with his parents, Stephen and Viola.
“Viola stood tall, and waved to the crowds, with the same quiet grace she had shown on her front lawn.
“It was a beautiful day, and I realized I had been granted a unique view into a historic moment.”
A sweet handwritten note from Viola
“Ten years passed. It was July 1979, and the national media was gearing up for the decade anniversary of the moon landing. As the anniversary approached, I felt a sudden, strong urge to write. I didn’t want the story of the lemonade and cookies to fade away. More than anything, I wanted my own children to know that their father had played a tiny part in that historic moment.
“I sat down and wrote an article about that hot July week in 1969, publishing it in our local newspaper, the Bowling Green Sentinel-Tribune. I recounted Viola’s kindness and how much it had meant to our crew. After it was published, I mailed a copy to Viola, and she amazed me again. I received a handwritten card in the mail, written in beautiful, elegant cursive, from Viola Armstrong.
“She wrote:
‘I remember you, you seemed like a fine young gentleman. Also, you wrote a very nice article, and I shall keep it always. Many thanks for sending it to us. My husband put out a nice garden, and I canned and canned. In August our eldest granddaughter in Wisconsin was married to a fine young man. We went too, and it was all very lovely. In October Stephen and I were married 50 years. We celebrated with family and friends, and had a wonderful time. Then, of course, on Thanksgiving and Christmas we were with our children, so this is where my time has gone. Wishing you a Happy, and Healthful New Year. Gratefully, Stephen and Viola Armstrong’
“A decade later, with her son’s name etched permanently into human history, she was still the same warm and thoughtful person who cared enough to write a letter back to a cameraman.
“For a long time, I kept these memories tucked away in my memory and photo albums. But a few years ago my 18-year-old granddaughter was asking me about my career. When I pulled out the old photos and Viola’s handwritten letter, her eyes lit up. ‘Grandpa,’ she said, ‘you never told me this before!'”
On Neil Armstrong’s family couch
MyHeritage user Gary Fruland’s family holds a significant memory from that exact same historic weekend in July 1969. While Bob was looking through his camera viewfinder under Ohio’s sunny sky, Gary’s family connection to that day takes us inside the most private, anxious room of the Apollo 11 mission: Neil Armstrong’s family home in El Lago, Texas.
“When Neil Armstrong stepped outside the lunar lander onto the dusty surface of the moon to make that first monumental step for mankind, my cousin, Walter Fruland, was a protocol officer who worked for NASA. During those high-stakes, historic moments, he was the only person allowed inside Neil Armstrong’s home.
“Walter’s assignment carried an unimaginable emotional weight: he was there to comfort Neil’s wife, Jan, and their two young sons, Rick and Mark, if anything went wrong.
“As Neil descended the ladder of the lunar module, Walter was sitting right there on the family couch, positioned between Jan and the two boys. When Neil finally returned to Earth, he had to spend two weeks in isolation. The day he was finally cleared to return to normal life, it was Walter who drove to the facility, picked him up, and personally brought him home to his family.
“Walter was also the one who accompanied all three Apollo 11 astronauts, Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins, as they embarked on their whirlwind, global ‘Giant Leap’ tour to celebrate the monumental achievement with the world.
“The NASA legacy in our family didn’t stop with Walter, either. His daughter, Ruth, went on to work for NASA as well. She was a scientist who actually analyzed the physical lunar samples Neil and his crew brought back from the moon’s surface.
“We, the Fruland family, are deeply proud of our Norwegian heritage, and we are incredibly honored and humbled to have Walter and Ruth as part of our family heritage. We are blessed to have these wonderful members of our family during such an historic time in human history.”
A protective buffer from the public eye
In an interview he gave to NASA Johnson Space Center Oral History Project in 2009, Walter reflected that “the two Armstrong boys were just young enough to be goggle-eyed about the whole thing. We sat there during the landing on the Moon around midnight watching this event unfold. It was amazing. I couldn’t help but be amazed. I thought it was just one of the most once-in-a-lifetime events that we were seeing.”
He also went on to speak about Neil’s wife, Janet Armstrong, and how she managed the overwhelming pressure of that historic moment, noting, “I was impressed with the more or less self-contained emotional display that she was able to maintain.”
Managing that level of pressure was a constant theme for Walter. As part of NASA’s Public Affairs and Protocol branches, he witnessed firsthand how they had to handle the unprecedented onslaught of global media attention, explaining that “the media presence in Houston was unlike anything we had ever prepared for. There were television trucks and reporters camped outside the astronauts’ homes for days. Our job in Protocol wasn’t just about managing VIPs at the Space Center; it was about creating a buffer so the families could breathe and experience these historic moments without being completely overwhelmed by the public eye.”
Following the mission, Walter was heavily involved in managing the logistics for the “Giant Leap” global tour, which took the three astronauts to 24 countries in just 45 days. Reflecting on the sheer exhaustion and diplomatic weight of the tour, he remembered, “It was a whirlwind. We traveled on a presidential plane, and the security and protocol requirements in every single country were intense. The astronauts were exhausted, but they understood the immense diplomatic value of what they were doing. Everywhere we went, millions of people came out just to get a glimpse of them.”
Ultimately, Walter saw his role in this space-age triumph as part of a deeper family lineage. Descending from the “Sloopers” — the very first organized group of Norwegian immigrants who arrived in America in 1825 on the ship Restaurationen — he viewed the journey to the moon as the natural continuation of his ancestors’ voyage: “My ancestors came over on a small sloop seeking new horizons, and here I was, working for an agency sending men to the Moon. To me, NASA represented that exact same American drive to explore the unknown, to push past the boundaries of what people thought was possible.”
Many thanks to Bob and Gary for sharing their personal connection to this historic moment. Explore more American Family Stories and discover how ordinary families experienced extraordinary moments in U.S. history on MyHeritage’s America 250 hub.







