One of the pleasures of our late summers in the 1980s was listening to Robert and Mildred Remsberg argue.

By then, Robert was a professor emeritus of philosophy, retired after decades of teaching at Wittenberg University. Mildred, too, was an experienced philosopher and debater, having for decades composed counter-arguments to Robert’s philosophical views on how their home should be managed.

Some of their discussions on matters of domestic policy would be carried on in the free-standing, screened-in patio that still sits behind the house next to us that at the time was the home of Robert’s cousin, John Gotwald.

Before hearing these debates, I had little faith that rules could be brought to the conduct of warfare. But the Remsbergs’ combination of enduring respect and mercilessness of argument transformed my opinion.

They came to mind two weeks ago when Marguerite Brinkman shared the correspondence her late husband, Richard, had during the 1970s with Neil Armstrong.

The first return letter from Armstrong arrived at the president’s office of what then was called the Clark County Technical Institute, on Jan. 12, 1972, about two and a half years after Armstrong put the first footprint on the moon.

“Dear Mr. Brinkman: Thank you for your kind invitation to participate in your ‘Charter Day’ banquet as guest speaker,” Armstrong wrote from the University of Cincinnati, where he was a professor of aerospace engineering. “Regretfully, my speaking schedule for the current academic year is completely filled and I find it impossible to accept any additional commitments.

“Best wishes for success in your ‘Charter Day’ banquet.”

That April 14, Brinkman wrote Armstrong again.

Acknowledging that Armstrong’s schedule “was completely filled and it was simply impossible to arrange” a visit on his first writing, Brinkman offered more lead time.

“Next fall, we will dedicate our new Library Resource Center … a beautiful and very modern center for students pursuing careers in the technologies.

“We want Neil Armstrong to be our guest speaker and will schedule the event to your convenience. Pick any available date on your speaking calendar after Labor Day, and we’ll adjust it.”

“Sincerely yours, R.O. Brinkman.”

Three days later, Armstrong thanked Brinkman again for his “kind letter,” then added, “much as I would like to participate, particularly since, as you know, I am very enthusiastic about the place of technical training in today’s society, I must reluctantly decline.”

Temporarily abandoning his quest, Brinkman on Feb. 23, 1973, wrote Ohio’s other famous astronaut in a letter that shows his doggedness about Armstrong wasn’t unique.

“On several occasions in the past years I have contacted you relative to your availability as our graduation speaker,” Brinkman reminded John Glenn.

He then spelled out his case.

“Clark Technical College was the first chartered state technical institute in Ohio …. We have just over 1,000 students enrolled in associate degree programs in agriculture, business, engineering health and public service technologies.

“Our graduates, our academic staff and our community would be privileged to have you as our graduation speaker on Saturday morning June 9, 1973. All details can be adjusted to your convenience. Are you available?”

Glenn responded March 15 in a letter that echoes Armstrong, who may have been echoing him.

“I appreciate the invitation more than I can say and regret that, once again, I must decline … I am finding that the days and weeks are not long enough to work in all the things I would like to do.”

The next year, Brinkman took aim again at the man on the moon.

“Twice in the past, I’ve tried to get you as a speaker for a special event at Clark Technical College,” he wrote Armstrong on July 29, 1974 … Persistence, whether a virtue or not, leads me to again seek your presence. You see, we really want Neil Armstrong to visit our growing campus and be a speaker at one of our major events.”

Brinkman mentioned two: Charter day of Feb. 18. 1975 and Graduation of June 14 that year.

On Oct. 3, 1974, Armstrong, perhaps straining by now, thanked Brinkman “so much for your renewed invitation to visit Clark Technical College.”

He added that he wished he could “respond favorably … to a larger percentage of the hundreds of other (requests) I find stacked neatly on my desk” at each summer’s end.

“It is a frustrating circumstance,” Armstrong wrote, “and I hope you can begin to understand.”

Like many hopes, this one was dashed.

On Aug. 26, 1976, Brinkman assured Armstrong there are “really many options” for a visit to Clark State, including “a fall convocation speech in our new gymnasium,” a talk that would be “inspiration to our student body of nearly 2,000.”

By this time, “I was a little embarrassed,” Marguerite Brinkman recalled. “I said to him, ‘Are you going to keep asking him?’”

She said her husband, a true believer in both technical education, NASA and what it had done for the field, truly believed he someday could persuade another Ohio educator who’d dedicated his life to the same purpose to come to Clark State. That never happened.

“I know that if Dick were still alive he would have been very upset with Neil’s death,” she added, “because he got very emotionally involved with those people and their work.”

She said she was more struck by something else her husband and Armstrong had in common.

It was the thing Robert and Mildred shared.

“It just tickled me,” she said, “that they were so stubborn.”