The old man climbs out of a Nissan Versa, home from the most mundane of appointments: He's been to the dentist. His housekeeping aide is with him and they walk together from the garage to the house, which is tucked down a side road of middle-class homes, vacant lots and palmetto scrub in Palm Beach County, Florida, about 12 kilometres inland from the rolling sea.
He's wearing brown shoes, brown socks and short pants with suspenders, the home-team uniform for Floridians of a certain age, and I mention this only to reinforce my awe at meeting, so late in his life, and so late in mine, the sixth man to step on the moon.
So, Mr. Mitchell: You wore lederhosen to the interview? That's awesome. But I'm just teasing about the article, which is a worthwhile way to commemorate the anniversary of the first lunar landing. And Mitchell gives a terrific interview, displaying both his wonder of space travel and the humility he learned from it.