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.

FMI: www.nasa.gov