“Ten!”
Should I go? I’ve always wanted to see a shuttle launch. It’s the last one, ever. Take off work? Go by myself? It’s a 1760 mile drive roundtrip. Yes, why not? Linda says go. Can’t think of a single good reason not to!
“Nine!”
Hurried home from work Wednesday, changed out of my scrubs into my best shorts and Hawaiian shirt, threw some clothes and my toothbrush into a bag, kissed Linda, “Yes, I’ll be careful; No, I won’t drive too fast; Love you too,” and out the door with a plate of Fant’s fried shrimp and pickles for my supper that Linda fixed for me.
“Eight!”
After six and a half hours of slipping through all the traffic Interstate 10 could dish out, the setting sun in my rearview, my favorite playlist –good and loud, my road supper, a really good cigar, and a great big-ol’ diet Coke, the lights of Pensacola looked good. A night without Linda in an empty hotel room is creepy.
“Seven!”
5:30 AM-Woke from a restless sleep, too excited I guess. Quick shower, brush and floss, swig of orange juice in the lobby, out the door by 6:00. It was a pretty blue-sky morning; cool, perfect for a couple hours’ top-down drive. There’s an interesting symphony that occurs between the hum of the road and the rush of the wind and good music at just the right volume balance. You can feel the marriage of all three squarely in your chest.
“Six!”
A man alone with his thoughts, prayers, praise, and “virtuoso” solo concerts to an audience of pine trees rushing by is a beautiful thing!
“Five!”
My GPS says my route goes to Jacksonville, FL then south on I-95 to my Thursday night hotel. The news says nearly a million people will be on hand. The closest room was 40 miles away from Kennedy Space Center and Titusville, my viewing destination. The car says I’ll be there by 1:00 PM. Hmmm, what to do all afternoon? Wait! What’s that in the back seat? My golf clubs…beautiful. Do I dare? TPC Sawgrass, Golf Digest’s #41 ranked golf course in the world, home of the Players’ Championship, is on my route! “Hello, I’m a single player passing through town hoping you have a tee time this afternoon…You do?!! Perfect, I’m on my way.”
“Four!”
Hardest course I’ve ever played. Made par on the first hole and most importantly, hit the island green, #17, and two-putted for par. Once in a lifetime moment...unbelievable. Met Calvin Peete in the parking lot. Can’t believe my luck. There was a light drizzle all day and all the way to my hotel but my hopes for the launch are not dampened. Interstate 95 took me south through St. Augustine. As I passed the exit, a precious memory flooded over me. I couldn’t have been more than four years old when we came to St. Augustine for a family vacation. I have vivid memories of hopping on my Daddy’s back to “jump the waves” at the beach there. I miss him. Fell into bed exhausted but not before setting my alarm for 4:00 AM and a quick prayer for good launch weather tomorrow.
“Three!”
The pre-dawn drive to Titusville was rain free, a good sign. No traffic, another good sign. My spirits are rising along with the pounding in my heart as the “Welcome to Titusville” sign comes into view. Aha! Here in downtown are the crowds and traffic. Cars parked everywhere, most illegally but no one cares. Sidewalks full of people, a line out the door at the Burger King. Kids in groups and couples holding hands, all carrying picnic supplies and all heading east, toward the faint light beginning to show in the sky, the shoreline and Kennedy Space Center in the distance.
“Two!”
There it is. Rising just above the tree line in the distance, highlighted by those powerful flood lights about 7 miles away...the singular object of everyone’s attention. By 6:00 AM I’m settled in my spot. Am I really here? Is this really happening? The next five and a half hours went by quickly. With a wary eye on the high overcast clouds, we all watched the sun climb and peek through the occasional patch of blue sky. We watched the NASA and Coast Guard helicopters pass overhead making their security checks. A huge hovercraft made passes back and forth kicking spray high in the air in the brisk wind. A small flotilla of yachts kept me entertained and piqued my fascination for sailing all over again. As the hours passed they were joined by many boats of all sizes anchored before us in eager anticipation.
“One!”
Now it’s serious. The several hundred people around me begin to settle into positions of alert focus. The group of kids near me cease play and chatter and their chalk drawing on the asphalt and gather at their parents’ feet. Everyone readies their cameras and binoculars. Somewhere in the distance is the muffled sound of a loudspeaker on someone’s car with the familiar voice of NASA launch control, “T minus 5 minutes and counting.” Solemn, controlled, unemotional, comforting. “T minus 2 minutes and counting.” This is really going to happen! Look, the weather is fine. It’s too late for any rain to cause a delay, right? OK. Get ready. Hold the camera steady! Zoom in as close as you can. Oops, too much, too shaky. Back out, good. That’s better. Steady now. What did he say? “T minus 31 seconds and holding.” WHAT?! NO! Why? No one knows. There’s a murmur in the crowd. What did they say? Are they counting down? Then I hear it. They are counting! The chant rises from the crowd louder and more clear with each digit, “Eight… seven… six… five… four… (the kids’ voices rise with the most gusto now) THREE… TWO… ONE”…
Then, the silence. One lone boy sings out, “BLAST-OFF!”
“Zero!”
The breath I forgot to take came suddenly in one great gasp when I saw the white clouds of smoke billow out on both sides, rising above the trees one split-second before the orange fireball appeared. I had to force my eyes to blink and focus to believe what I was seeing. The crowd erupted in one great cheer that grew simultaneously with the length of the fire trail. The shuttle Atlantis rose slowly at first on its ever-lengthening bright white-orange tail. Then the whole spectacle climbed into the sky above the trees and the horizon. Faster now, the fire trail many times longer than the vehicle itself. Faster and faster in a gentle, ever upward curve. Forty seconds it was...from liftoff to out of sight in the cloud cover. Forty seconds that will never be erased from my mind and heart. There was a collective moan of disappointment as the shuttle passed from view and everyone was left looking at the tower of white smoke that now extended from the ground up to the clouds. But just then, the disappointment was replaced by another cheer from us all. That’s when it hit us…the wall of sound. The roar of the engines plowed over us drawing another gasp from my chest. I hadn’t realized in the passion of the moment that everything had taken place without the sound having reached us yet! I also now realized I was crying! I called Linda but couldn’t speak. All I could do was blubber out how much I loved her and how I couldn’t believe what I had just experienced.
Epilogue
We all slowly made our way back to our vehicles quietly savoring our corporate encounter. Back in the car I lit up my last Cuban cigar that I had been saving for a special occasion. This qualifies. Finally back on the open road, crossing the Florida countryside, I’m still trying to process everything, trying to make sure I didn’t forget a single detail, rehearsing what I might write here. Deep in my thoughts I almost missed it. There, off the road a bit, was a ramshackle building beside a waterway with a parking lot full of cars. Then, in a blink, I realized what the sign I had just passed said, “Jolly Gator Fish Camp, Bar, & Grill.” I realized I was starving! I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since yesterday and here it was after 1:00 PM. I made a quick, “legal”, U-turn and joined the other patrons who obviously knew that this was the kind of place often missed by passers-by to their great misfortune. Built in the 50’s by a Mom and Pop, the place had not changed in all those years…a testament to the quality of the food and “twice weekly entertainment.” I devoured the best fried grouper po-boy and onions rings I’ve ever tasted and was back on the road deeply satisfied in both body and soul. Pensacola greeted me once again for the night and then back home by noon on Saturday.
It’s too soon to fully process all the memories and philosophical ramblings that this once-in-a-lifetime trip has created. For now, it’s enough to just remember.
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