It was May 16th, 2011.
I was somewhat nervous as I drove in the early morning darkness at Kennedy Space Center in Florida. I had been granted media credentials for the final launch of the space shuttle Endeavour, and didn’t know what to expect. I had already discovered that NASA is a big family. Space flight is a family business. They are all excited about what they do there, and they are happy to explain anything or just share their enthusiasm.
I stopped at the guard gate and presented my credentials. “Thank you, Mr. Henderson. Enjoy your day!”
You never know what will really happen when weather or other people are involved. You may have a plan, but you just have to be prepared for changes. This mission had already been delayed. Florida weather, though mostly sunny, frequently has bands of showers that come across the state. If a thunderstorm is in the area during a launch window, you’ll go home again. The storm might immediately clear, but the window is closed.
“Good morning, sir. You can park over there.”
I found a neglected spot next to the water and set up my tripod and its appendages. I had devised a way to place three cameras on the tripod (plus a Flip video camera that I secured to the front leg with gaffers tape). On the top, my Canon 5D mk II with a 400mm lens. On the left side I mounted my infrared Canon 20D. And on the right side I had a Canon A2 loaded with Ektachrome infrared film. I was determined I would NOT spend the entire flight with my eye stuck to an eyepiece. I intended to experience this launch in the present while saving as much as I could for the future. I precomposed my cameras and connected the cable releases that would allow me to watch the launch uninterrupted. As the sun rose over the Cape, clouds passed overhead, thickening and thinning. As I recall, there was a 50-60% chance of acceptable weather conditions.
I had met the actor, Abraham Benrubi (his IMDB profile) a few days earlier and we greeted each other and chatted briefly as we passed (He’s a very cool guy, by the way). I also met a guy named Fuzzy who worked at Universal Studios as a ride designer. Wouldn’t that be the coolest job? He was there to observe and take pictures in case there was something they could use in their line of work-something to add realism to a ride. There was excitement in the air amongst the gathered press and Twitter followers who had been invited. After getting things set up we all wandered around visiting or introducing ourselves or just finding somebody with a better rig than our own and start talking about it. We each had our own reasons for being there, most of which had nothing to do with our assignments. I discovered many folks had devised assignments just so they could be there. I suppose I’d done the same thing. I document the passage of time. My purpose is to experience things for other people. I had to be there.
Periodically somebody walked over to the giant countdown clock and checked to see that it was still running. Then we’d try to check the weather forecast. Many of us were getting updates from Space Flight Now. Some guys nervously fired their cameras occasionally to be sure they were still working. They worked.
“There it goes!!”
When Endeavour’s engines ignited, there was much cheering along our shoreline. The strange thing is that sound has to travel about three miles to get to us at the press site. Three miles. And we were much closer than most folks. Endeavour had cleared the tower before we heard the first sound from her throat. I stood as silently as she for those few seconds, then was washed over with the sound of her power. The world was quiet except for Endeavour. There were no cheers; no bird sounds; no clicking shutters. It was Endeavour and Endeavour alone, her fire hoisting her above the roar of her own strength. As she disappeared through the clouds, the sound kept coming. I couldn’t speak.
People often ask me what it was like to be there for a space shuttle launch. The only word I could think of then is the same one I still use: profound.
