Nine minutes. That’s about how long it takes to reach orbit from the Kennedy Space Center in 2009.
I didn’t go online intending to watch the space shuttle Discovery launch at 11:59 pm E.T., but I noticed CNN.com’s link to live coverage at the right time and tuned in. (Can I say “tuned in” if it’s online? Whatever.)
It was cool, awe-inspiring, I-wish-I-were-there-inducing, and at moments… a little boring. I’m embarrassed to write that last part, but it’s true. I couldn’t tell you how many shuttles have launched in my lifetime, or how many different shuttles actually exist right now. The 25th anniversary of the first Discovery launch is on Sunday—but I only know that because I just heard it on the news.
It’s weird that shuttle launches aren’t a Big Deal anymore. People I’ve talked to who watched the first lunar landing—in what, 1969, I think?—fondly convey memories of amazement and awe, no matter what age they were at the time. And here I am, someone who mostly keeps abreast of the news and is somewhat interested in Space Things, finding out about a shuttle launch only ten minutes beforehand. Is my level of embarrassment valid? Or have we, as a society, tired of routine Space Things and only become interested when there’s an explosion, a scandal, or a selfish reason like news of a realistic chance to walk on the moon?
I may not have been alive to watch the Apollo 11 land on the moon, but I do remember a lot of excitement surrounding my first space shuttle memory. And I’m not talking about the excitement around the movie Apollo 13 when I was in high school.*
January 28, 1986, my combined first/second grade class hunkered around a little black and white television in our classroom with the lights off. Mrs. Schumann had prepped us with information about the upcoming space shuttle launch and probably told us about her experience watching the lunar landing. This launch was exciting because of NASA’s Teacher is Space project; a civilian teacher had been specially selected and trained to join the mission.
The TV screen was small, and the picture was somewhat grainy, but I watched with interest as the space shuttle Challenger lifted off and the news anchor narrated with terminology I did not understand. And then a lot of puffy, trailing clouds appeared on the little screen, and after a few moments I heard my teacher gasp; my fellow classmates and I knew something was wrong but we didn’t know what. I don’t remember exactly how long Mrs. Schumann left the TV on after the explosion, but I remember her standing up abruptly to turn it off and that she was visibly shaken.
That evening’s ABC news broadcast, which of course I found on youtube, summed up my shared educational experience like this:
“Brought in for the new age’s first formal classroom lessons from outer space, our children were suddenly taught instead the old lessons: of mortality; of the real risk which gives any victories their meaning.”
Since first grade, I’ve seen a fair amount of news coverage and replays of successful shuttle launches, as well as the other explosion in recent memory—the Columbia. But I haven’t watched any of them live since 1986. My experience tonight was much different, watching streaming internet coverage in color all by myself in my living room late at night. Everything went according to plan—no explosions, not puffy trailing clouds. But there was still terminology I didn’t understand, and it freaking knocked my socks off to realize that a space shuttle could enter into orbit in under ten minutes. It takes me longer than that to get to the freeway from my house!
But you know what? Routine, boring shuttle launches are cool. Slightly boring, but therefore successful. They are victories for a growing-at-pace space age. And I hope I have an opportunity to see a shuttle launch in person someday.
*I definitely saw Apollo 13 in the theater. It was pretty cool, but I was more impressed by Contact a couple years later. The second time I saw Contact, my date wanted to make out in the theater… which really annoyed me because he hadn’t even seen the movie yet! So what’s geekier: going on a date to see a sci fi drama with the intention to make out the whole time, or going on a date to see a science fiction drama and not wanting to make out? (And yes, we liked each other, so making out in general was not the issue.)
