We're Gonna Swim Across That River And Strangle Jules Bergman

Special To ANN By Wes Oleszewski

Thirty years ago I was a young college student trying to work my way through Embry-Riddle in Daytona Beach, and being a life-long space-buff I had seen every US manned spaceflight launch on TV. As such, I was determined to be down at "The Cape" to witness, first-hand, the launch of the first Space Shuttle. The only problem was I did not own a car and the best eye witness location for the launch was almost 50 miles away- a bit longer than the distance that I usually rode my bicycle.

A day before the launch I ventured to the Avion student newspaper office on Embry-Riddle's campus was told that AIAA was chartering a bus to go from the campus to KSC for the launch of STS-1. I hustled down to buy a ticket, but found that the tickets had sold out almost immediately. Dejected I returned to the newspaper office and began to plot my bicycle ride down US1 to Titusville. I figured it would take me most of the night to get down there and although riding a bicycle down US1 in the middle of the night to see a space launch may seem a bit nuts, the term "A bit nuts" is denoted on my birth certificate. Just as I was about to head out and start peddling, a friend of mine stopped me and said that she knew of two guys in the dorm who were driving down. She suggested that we should go and she could introduce me to them. If they had an extra seat, it may keep me from becoming a road pizza on US1.

As it turned out the two guys were happy to have me ride along. They were in fact both space-buffs just like me and we instantly became friends. Jennings, who owned the land-boat of a car that we drove down in, was from Michigan just like me, and to this day I consider him to be a friend. Brian, the other guy, was an expert in everything that flies and would go on to not only work at the National Air and Space Museum as a photo archivist, but would also serve as the best man in my wedding seven years later. Together the three of us headed out that Thursday evening to witness aviation history… or so we thought.

On the trip down toward the launch site we chattered about spaceflight history. As we came within a dozen miles of Titusville, we suddenly saw that history. Above the trees the darkness was slashed by the crossed white beams of the pad spotlights. Although we could not yet see the shuttle, it was an image that we had always seen in books, magazines and on television. It made your heart stop and your jaw drop in spite of yourself. Entering the town of Titusville we suddenly discovered that we had no idea where the hell we were going. Where would we park? What about private property? Collectively we decided just to turn toward the river. Driving down Grace Street we hit Riverview and the riverbank itself. For a few minutes we cruised up and down Riverview calculating a good place to park. I spotted a county pumping station and suggested we should park near it. That way if any of the locals gave us a hard time, we could just go onto county property. We pulled in and bailed out of the car and just stood there frozen by the sight of the white shuttle bathed in those crossed spotlight beams. For a moment, all three of us were 15 years old again.

Snapping out of the shuttle's spell for a moment, I saw that it was just after 10 pm and I decided to hike up Grace Street to the Mister Doughnut shop up on US1. There I found a pay phone and I called my folks up in Michigan to ask "Guess where I am tonight?" Being the parents of a rabid space-buff, it was an easy guess for them. When I returned to the car I was amazed to see that in the past 20 minutes, nearly every parking spot along the riverbank near us had been taken, and there were more cars coming. Clearly, there would be no problems with the local residents.

Opening the trunk of his car, the guy who had parked right next to us revealed a sort of mobile Space Shuttle flight following station. Attached to the underside of the trunk lid he had a poster depicting each phase of the STS-1 flight profile. He had charts and table that listed each mission event as well as assorted abort profiles and abort destinations. He had shuttle cut-away diagrams that detailed ever component. Most importantly, however, he had a small portable TV that ran off of his car battery. In 1981 such TVs were not rare, but in our present location his TV was the center of attention.

Several hours into the night I decided to go for a walk up US1 and see what may be happening. The streets were busy as I strolled along and every sign that could have its letters rearranged had a shuttle best wishes message. After about a mile or so I came upon the local mall. Even though it was very late at night, the parking lot was filled as if it were the day before Christmas. The doors to the mall were propped open and people were coming and going. I went inside and many of the stores were open and doing a good amount of business. Most noticeable was the local toy store which had set up a table just outside their door. Upon the table was a cash register and stacks of Space Shuttle models which were apparently selling like crazy.

When I got back to the riverbank everyone was standing around gazing at the distant shuttle or talking spaceflight. We talked about every aspect of spaceflight past, present and future. Most of us simply agreed that we had no idea as to what STS-1 would do, or what the shuttle's future would really be. It was like going to space-buff heaven. The only problem was access to a bathroom. On a trip up the road to buy a cup of tea I found out that the guy running the Mister Doughnut up on US1 did not mind folks using his restrooms, as long as they bought a doughnut "or somethin'." When I got back to the riverbank I spread the word and soon folks were strolling up the road to Mister Doughnut and returning "rested" with coffee or a pastry in hand.

Shortly after dawn the countdown hit the first in a series of holds. The TV in the mobile Space Shuttle flight following station seemed to pick up the local ABC station the best, so we were glued to Jules Bergman and Gene Cernan. The issues started with a fuel cell problem and then a problem with the back-up computer. The guys on the TV knew about as much about the problems as we did, but Bergman kept down-talking the prospect of a launch today. As count recycles and holds folded up on one another, Bergman kept talking about NASA officials saying things such as their "…expectation of having to go through multiple launch attempts over several days." Finally Jennings just growled that he was about ready to swim across the river and strangle Bergman.

Jules Bergman

Of course, Jules Bergman was correct in one sense- we were not going to see the Space Shuttle fly today. Finally, after what seemed like an entire day of holds and recycles, the word came across the loop that they were going to once again recycle to T-20 and go out and remove the crew. Some two and one half hours after the scheduled launch time, the effort came to a halt. Shortly after that came the official scrub announcement- frankly, it was almost a relief. We'd all been awake for more than 24 hours and other than a bag of doughnuts that I'd retrieved from Mister Doughnut, none of us had eaten.

Everyone up and down the riverbank agreed to meet in the same place Saturday night for Sunday morning's attempt at a launch. The next day at work I went into the personnel manager's office and told her that although I was scheduled to work on Sunday, I would be at the shuttle launch and if it was late, I'd be late too. Unexpectedly, she simply smiled sweetly and said, "No problem, I understand- have fun." It's funny how folks who live in central Florida have a different view of spaceflight than other people around the country. Of course, most of the country had watched the whole scrub live on TV and from the White House to my parent's house every American seemed to suffer through the recycles with us. Most of them, however, were much closer to a restroom than those of us on the riverbank.

Tomorrow, Liftoff of STS-1.

FMI: www.nasa.gov/shuttle