THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, July 16, 1994 TAG: 9407150089
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E7 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: By Roy A. Bahls
LENGTH: Medium: 59 lines
AS FAR BACK as I can remember, I had a wide-eyed fascination for our country's space program.
The roar of jet airplanes was common in my childhood. I was born into a military family in 1953 and we never lived far from Air Force bases. When those bulky rockets started hurtling sykward, I was hooked.
In the early '60s I heard President Kennedy set our nation on a course to land a man on the moon in that decade. As a youngster I didn't want to wait that long; it was like wanting to hear the next chapter in a book.
I saved the front-page newspaper articles of Alan Shepard's flight and John Glenn's orbits - all the while keeping an eye on the Russians' advances in space. (Those yellowed pages have followed me around the world.)
When I was 15 I lived in Northern Virginia and a friend's father worked for NASA. About a year and a half before the moon landing, the father showed us a 4-foot-tall model of the rocket that would take the first men to the moon. He opened the nosecone and pulled out the detailed command module and landing vehicle.
I couldn't wait.
My father's new orders took our family to Hickam Air Force Base on Oahu, Hawaii. I watched the moon landing on television and looked up at the big bright moon and felt proud and happy. The wait was worth it.
But we had a closer look at the space guys. The quarantine vehicles the astronauts stayed in following the first few missions were brought into neighboring Pearl Harbor and driven to Hickam for a flight out to the mainland. I joined thousands of others along the roadway and waved to the astronauts as they passed by. They waved back through the windows.
My excitement about the space program never waned. So when I realized that the first space shuttle launch was inching closer, I decided to write a few articles about NASA and the upcoming mission. That secured a berth at the 1981 launch.
There I was, two cameras in hand, three miles away from the shuttle. I was shoulder-to-shoulder with a thousand other reporters and photographers waiting for something no one had ever seen before.
The clock ticked down. . . 3, 2, 1. The solid rocket boosters and engines under the shuttle had already flashed and smoke was pouring out around the pad. Thousands of camera shutters clicked. Cheers rose from the crowd, followed by the deep rumble of the engines. Boom - crackle.
We watched the shuttle slowly rise skyward and everyone stood transfixed until it was completely out of sight.
After watching our space program grow and mature over the years, my deep fascination has remained. I'm still that wide-eyed youngster who just couldn't wait for the next chapter. MEMO: Related story also on page E7. ILLUSTRATION: Photo by ROY A. BAHLS
Thousands of camera shutters clicked as the shuttle slowly rose
skyward. by CNB