Observations From The Beach At Midnight
By Tom Patton, ANN News Editor
No lesser philosopher than John “Hannibal” Smith on
“The A-Team” (am I dating myself?) said “I love
it when a plan comes together.” And so it was with the launch
of STS-128 a minute before midnight last Friday.
With the shuttle program winding down, I'd traveled down to the
vicinity of Cape Canaveral twice for the launch of STS-127, with a
third false start at 0200. The trips weren’t total busts,
particularly because of the chance to go fishing with my cousin off
Cocoa Beach. But for shuttle launches ... nada. I don’t know
if NASA set a record with six scrubs for STS-127, but I’m
sure it was close.
Previous disappointments not withstanding, my wife and I jumped
in the car about 9:00 Friday evening and headed south, hoping to
find a vantage point for the launch that was at least closer than
my home in Neptune Beach.
We wound up parked at the boat ramp just inside the main gate at
Canaveral National Seashore, and it was a quick walk up and over
the dune (yes, on the overbridge) to the ocean.
As had happened several times with STS-127, weather threatened
Friday night’s launch. A storm well offshore provided some
pre-launch entertainment for those of us gathered on the beach
about a half hour before launch time. There is a certain
camaraderie among those who will drive to the beach and brave the
sand fleas and no-see-ums for an opportunity to feel just a tiny
bit closer to space. I’m fortunate enough to have just one
degree of separation from someone who has actually flown the
shuttle, and I mean sitting up front. Ken Bowersox, who was the
pilot on STS-50 in 1992 and spacecraft commander for STS-61 in
1993, was just two years ahead of me in high school in Bedford,
Indiana. And though he probably wouldn’t know me if he
tripped over me, at least we’re acquainted, and he’d
apologize if he actually DID trip over me, but I digress.
So we stood on the beach, iPhones displaying the countdown in
real time on the NASA website, waiting for the final minutes, then
seconds, to tick away.
And at exactly a minute before midnight, the sky lit up like
day. A sunrise in the south, rather than the east where you would
expect to see it from our vantage point on the beach.
For all the times that America has launched men and women into
space, it is still such a thrill to see this happen, and the people
on the beach cheered. No other nation on earth has been able to do
what we have done as consistently and safely: send people off the
planet, and bring them safely home. Russian readers might disagree,
but it’s a statement I’m confident in making.
The bright orange glow lasted only a few moments, as Discovery
arced north seemingly right over our heads before turning east,
almost as if she was vectoring around the thunderstorm, then
vanishing in a pinpoint of light. We could clearly see the solid
rocket booster separation with the naked eye, and it took almost
that long before the minutes-long rumble of thunder started to roll
over the beach. Even from our vantage point miles north of the
cape, that low, almost sub-audible sound came wave after wave,
first drowning out and then finally dissipating and merging with
the crash of the surf just feet from where we stood. It takes 8.5
minutes for the shuttle to reach orbit, and just that quickly, it
was done.
All that was left was to get back in the car and head north,
after a stop at Denny’s for a quick bite and coffee.
Unless something drastic happens and the Obama administration
manages to not kill the shuttle program, or a series of scrubs
forces another night launch, Friday night was the last night
shuttle launch. Ever. There is one scheduled for September 15th
with a 2000-2100 launch window, but in Florida in September,
that’s still twilight. It will still be impressive, but the
thrill of turning night into day may be done for the foreseeable
future. NASA had planned to test an Ares rocket booster
last Thursday, but a problem forced a delay. Ares is supposed
to be the rocket that will start men on their journey back to the
moon, or beyond, but the entire manned space program is now
threatened with extinction. The Manned Space Flight Commission
concluded that, given the NASA budget proposed by the Obama
administration, sending people into orbit post-shuttle is just not
feasible, and we’ll be relying on the Russians to take crews
to ISS. They can spend billions on Cash for Clunkers, or now Cash
for Appliances, but for the greatest research and development
program ever devised, accounting for tens of thousands of
high-paying technical jobs with ripple effects that can be felt
throughout the economy … not so much.
No one will ever stand on a car lot and cheer as someone drives
away in a car for which the government subsidized the manufacture
and then subsidized the purchase. But people will stand on a beach,
at midnight, and cheer one of the United State’s greatest
accomplishments just from raw emotion. I’m so privileged to
live where I can get in my (non-subsidized) car, drive two hours,
and witness that accomplishment, which is at the same time
awe-inspiring and somehow routine, and be close enough to feel a
tiny fraction of the power needed to boost the spacecraft to orbit.
Every American should have the opportunity to see and feel what I
saw and felt last Friday night.
Maybe then we wouldn’t be in such danger of losing it.