I Hate to Say This, But ....

I watched on television in 1969 the first moon walk. Someone--I assume my brother Gary--even took a photograph of my brothers David and Donald, my mother, our dog, and me--at the moment Neal Armstrong walked on the moon. We were sitting in the living room of our little Levittown house in Landover Hills, Maryland, on a humid July night--we look hot even in the grainy black and white photo, since we didn't have central air back then. I remember the night as clearly as any other from my childhood. I was thirteen.

So why do I get these nagging, niggling suspicions that the videos are fakes? Am I the only one?