Five millennia ago would put us in Genesis chapter 11, around the time of the Tower of Babel. I believe that there were people there who actually knew what the stars were.
Adam walked and talked with the Creator.
“Lord, what are those lights in the sky?”
“Well, let me tell you, Adam. On the fourth day, two days before I made you and the Misses, I created a big ball of burning gases and set it at just the right distance from the earth — any closer and you’d burn up, and any further and you’d freeze to death. I was thinking about you, Adam. And then I knew that you and your sweetheart would need something to gawk at in the night, sitting on the lawn by that Tigris River, so I put another ball of dirt up there that could reflect the light of the sun as the earth rotated, putting you on the opposite side. Ain’t it romantic, Adam?”
He passed that knowledge to his children (perhaps more than a hundred of them in 930 years), and to his grandchildren, and to his great grandchildren, and to his great-greatgrandchildren, and to his great-great-great grandchildren, and so forth (930 years old!) And who told their children.
The knowledge of God wasn’t passed by men who lived only 70 or 80 years, but by men who lived almost a millennia in good health (before the flood), and saw a dozen or more generations of their own seed come along.
Adam was probably still alive within 120 years from Noah getting on the ark.
And I believe Noah knew what a star was, and taught Shem, Ham, and Jepeth, and his grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and great-greatgrandchildren, ect.
Noah’s son, Shem, was probably still living in Abraham’s day.
Do you agree that the "wandering jew" is living in Miami too?
The Wandering Jew is a figure from medieval Christian folklore whose legend began to spread in Europe in the thirteenth century and became a fixture of Christian mythology, and, later, of Romanticism. The original legend concerns a Jew who taunted Jesus on the way to the Crucifixion and was then cursed to walk the earth until the Second Coming. The exact nature of the wanderer's indiscretion varies in different versions of the tale, as do aspects of his character; sometimes he is said to be a shoemaker or other tradesman, sometimes he is the doorman at Pontius Pilate's estate, and sometimes the myth is transferred to a Roman rather than a Jew.