Final Launch, Shuttle Era Remembered

I launched my career in journalism at the dawn of NASA’s space shuttle program. Reprinted here, on the eve of the final launch of Atlantis, on the final takeoff of the shuttle program, is a column I wrote about the space shuttle Enterprise, "perched atop a 747 transport jet, circling the Potomac River en route to Dulles Airport, where it was put on display." It was published in 1983, in a now-defunct community newspaper, the Alexandria Journal.

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Did you ever wonder?

Sitting in an airplane seat, looking out over the friendly skies, the clouds, and down at the patterned rural vista, did you ever marvel at mankind’s mastery of flight?

Marvel at the ability to bridge landscapes in seconds, milestones in minutes, continents in hours, and all the while sipping a cocktail and reading the latest issue of Time magazine?

No? I guess not.

What to our parents and grandparents was a new miracle, an adventure of flight yet to be taken, to us is just an order of life. Business flight, vacation flights, shuttle flights, discount flights and flights to visit friends and families.

Flight is common. Flights take off every minute, every day. Just look up and see for yourself.

But there is a new adventure of flight at the horizon. One we’ve read about, hear about and witnessed on television. And one in which civilians soon will participate: space flight.

Really, we will.

The through struck me earlier this year when the Space Shuttle Enterprise, perched atop a 747 transport jet, circled the Potomac River en route to Dulles Airport, where it was put on display.

In Alexandria’s waterfront Founders Park, I became part of a crowd that gathered to witness the shuttle’s approach overhead. They brought chairs, they brought blankets, they brought their kids and spouses. And when the show began, they stood, craned their necks and clapped.

I “oohed” and “aahed” with them.

Many said they had chills when the shuttle passed overhead. I know what they meant. I expected to hear a marching band break into a heavy brass rendition of “God Bless America.”

But what really struck me were the conversations. People, old and young, saying they believed that in their lifetimes civilians — and possibly they, themselves — would experience space firsthand.

No longer was I, a reporter, asking, “What do you think of all of this?” I now was asking, “Would you like to go yourself?”

Back when man first walked in space and left his footsteps on the moon, I imagine everybody wanted to walk in space. When Pan American Airlines in 1969 announced it was taking “reservations” for upcoming lunar excursions, 90,000 numbered queuing cards were sent out to guarantee seats.

I guess the feeling now is if you say, “Yes, I want to go to space,” somebody might answer, “OK, suit up.”

After all, NASA is now asking for civilian applicants and expects to accommodate up to eight passengers a year on scheduled missions starting in 1986. Many of the seats will given to those selected from thousands of applicants, including John Denver and Walter Cronkite.

It’s a small step for civilian space travel, but a giant leap toward commercial lunar excursions.

Did you ever wonder?