Rolling Sixes on the Shuttle

The shuttle launch slipped from mid-February 2009 because a poppet in a hydrogen fuel line broke during testing. The impact to me was little. I am in the flow for being certified as shift lead for the logistics and maintenance console in the ISS mission evaluation room (MER), and this only impacted the time that I could have gone in and sat on console with the acting shift lead. When the launch slipped from Wednesday to Sunday in March, my first thought was that I wouldn’t have as much of an opportunity to support our console in the MER because I would be on vacation with my family in Florida. On of my coworkers pointed out that perhaps I would be able to go watch the launch, as I would be vacationing in Florida. I dismissed the thought, because the beach houses that we were renting were in the panhandle of Florida, a good 6-hour drive from the launch. Some of my friends back in Houston, on the other hand, had kicked around the idea of doing a whole road trip from Houston with the express purpose of watching a launch, so I was a little bit concerned with the expectations of my die-hard friends who thought that a 17-hour trip was worth it. They ended up running in the Seabrook marathon this past weekend, so they didn’t have a chance to go anyway.

So the day before the trip, I called my dad and told him about this opportunity. Not completely sold on the idea myself, I found myself telling him about how special the launch would be and how there were only a few launches left. Before I knew it, I had convinced him and myself that we should go see it. We left Saturday morning at about 9 AM from Houston to go to Alligator Point. About 16 hours later, we pulled into the beach house driveway. It had been a sometimes-miserable trip, and my two year old had hardly slept at all. We were going to church in a few short hours, and if we were going to make the launch, we would have to leave directly after church for what would be about a 14-hour round trip (stops included). Nevertheless, the idea and opportunity of seeing a shuttle launch, encouraged by the momentum left over from the earlier conversation with Dad and fueled on by the excitement about the possibility from brothers-in-law, cousins, and nephews, and we had a coalition, a quorum, to make the long trip to the Cape.

Church ended and we drove back to the beach houses. As people were relaxing, we looked at the clock. 1 PM. We had to leave right then if we were to make it on time. I ran from beach house to beach house rounding up and riling up those who were serious about going. Finally, about 20 minutes later, we threw some junk food in one of the Suburbans and had 7 people who were willing to make the trek.

The drive out wasn’t so bad. Florida is beautiful. We had fascinating conversation about the Kepler mission, shuttle safety, Columbia, Challenger, the odds of the launch not being canceled, the fuel poppet and leak problems, etc. Cousin Joe had no idea that I was so into space. The nephews and family friends were totally engaged and interested. I called a co-worker at the Cape and asked him to let us know if the launch was canceled or slipped. I called another friend in Titusville and asked him where the best place was to watch the launch. We were stoked.

We showed up in Titusville about 7 PM, 45 minutes before the launch. We went to Space View Park, which was recommended by my buddy, and started looking around for parking. We hemmed and hawed before finally parking in from of some store driveway, risking a ticket but enabling us to get a good spot from which to watch before it was too late.

Ambling toward the water past the crowds, we found a spot on the seawall. Old people who had been there for hours were a little bit miffed that we grabbed such prime real estate right in from of them. Hey, It doesn’t matter how early you get there if you leave a bunch of space right in front of you. At least they could still see the launch. Cousin Joe jumped down from the seawall on a piece of torn up dock that didn’t look like it would hold his weight. We got our cameras out and waited. I thought of the seven astronauts fastened securely in their seats, waiting for the body smearing accelerations they would imminently endure.

Time marched by. The sun set. The launch pad was hazy on the horizon anyway, and when dusk settled, it was pretty difficult to see.

Finally, a cheer went up. A bright orange cloud billowed out from the launch pad, and then started to ascend. The only sound was the cheers from the crowd; at this point the launch was only a visual experience. The fireball was so bright that my impulse was to look away so that it didn’t damage my eyes. It rose up in the sky, a dazzling fireball leaving behind an almost indistinguishable smudgy contrail set against a dim gray-blue sky. The fireball looked almost like a comet, spewing out constantly-shifting orange flames as it inched incredible slowly upward.

But the fireball was amazing. I had been told that the sound rumbles you in your chest as you watch, and so I was a little disappointed that I couldn’t even hear it. But then, when I had reconciled myself to the fact that I was just to far away to hear it, the rumble came. A popping, deep, truly guttural groan and sustained explosion that made my hair stand on end. This was an awesome launch. Brilliant fireball, fine weather, sweet sound. It couldn’t have gotten any better.

Then the next surprise came. When the rocket was at about 25 degrees above the horizon, the disappointing smudge of a contrail came to life! As the shuttle gained enough altitude to achieve line of sight with the sun above the horizon, the contrail became instantly illuminated with a vibrant, potent deep red color. The smeared gray streak against the dim blue gray sky became an exquisitely sculpted marble column bathed in brilliant firelight, not from the explosions of the SRB boosters and cryogenic engines, but from the sun itself. The crowds cheered. The fireball rose on its self made column set against the highly contrasting sky. I was totally floored, and at this point didn’t even realize why it was so beautiful. Don’t tell, but I think this is the point where the tear started welling up in my right eye. The rocket rose. The color of the column shifted as the angle of the sun through the atmosphere changed. A veritable rainbow was formed as the shuttle arched through the sky and the colors shifted through all shades of red, orange, yellow, and finally to a milky white. At this point, the SRBs separated. My father, at my side, was amazed. We discussed how fast the vehicle was moving and at what altitude it was. At this point, I realized that the rainbow was climbing up the column as the sun continued to set. The column itself was dynamic and shifting with the wind. The shuttle was a bright point of light with two other points of light falling away. The contrail had reached its maximum length; with the SRBs expended, the H2O exhaust in the even-darker sky far away was invisible.

At this point we pulled our eyes away from the sky long enough to look at each other and marvel. We congregated together and expressed our wonder, surprise, and respect for what we were seeing. The shuttle finally disappeared behind a building.

What an amazing event. Totally worth the drive. The traffic out of Titusville was comically horrible. We used our smart phones to find crazy backroad detours that would get us a few blocks closer to US-95. The whole way, a new wave of enthusiasm poured from the back of the car toward the front where I answered a whole new array of questions about the operation of the shuttle, the activities of the station, and the history of the space program as launched from Cape Canaveral. By the time we got back to Alligator Point it was after 3 AM.

Amazing. The timing of the launch is determined by the orbital parameters of the space station. Because this launch was delayed, 7:43 was the right time for launch. If the time had been 20 minutes earlier, the contrail would not have been illuminated by a sun passing through as much atmosphere. If it had been 20 minutes later, the sun never would have hit the contrail at all, at any angle. This launch would not have been as eye-poppingly amazing if it had been at any other time. Also, if the weather had not been exactly as it was… a little hazy without a cloud in the sky, then the color of the sun would not have been as vibrant or as varied at the different angles. The “rainbow” on the contrail would have been shorter and less varied. If there had been a cloud in the sky, then the magnificent contrast of the contrail would have been diluted by the other clouds in the sky. It was like rolling triple sixes: the time of day, the absence of clouds, and the fact that I happened to be in Florida on my vacation during the launch.

As it was, it was the chance of a lifetime to watch that launch. God bless America and our shuttle program. May it rest in peace come 2011. I know that I will always be able to look back on the program with this glorious 5 minutes indelibly etched on my mind and this blog.

Back here at the beach house, I was about to hit the sack. You can imagine that I am totally tired after days of road tripping not helped by a full day of beach romping with an early- rising toddler and infant. However, I couldn’t go another day without expressing and recording my feelings on the experience. My wife is sleeping now (I promised that I would only be writing for 15 minutes!) and I’ll go to join her now listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore and with the excitement from the fresh memory of the glorious shuttle launch to accompany my dreams in what will no doubt be a very deep sleep.

I don’t have the pictures and videos posted yet, but I will polish it later when I’m not so tired.