But we were out of luck here too. We arrived in Titusville (a small town 15 km from the launch pad), where a fairly large crowd had already gathered. A thunderstorm was rumbling in the distance, but it was so far away—60-70 km—that you couldn't even hear it. The shuttle, illuminated by spotlights against the backdrop of the night storm, looked especially spectacular. It was 12:30 AM, August 25th. They say this is one of the last shuttle launches in history. The radio is buzzing that all systems are normal, checking the details. And now, 3 minutes to launch, they are about to start the countdown and... NO!!! The launch was scrubbed 2 minutes before T-time because the wind was blowing toward us and they were worried about what might happen... Damn!! Disappointed people shuffled back to their cars... Damn, we've had no luck these past few days. They rescheduled the second launch attempt for tomorrow, but tomorrow we're supposed to be in Myrtle... Yeah, I guess it wasn't meant to be... After a night of driving and a day of work, it turns out that the space mission STS-128 Discovery has been postponed again due to fuel system issues. The next launch is on the 28th at 11:59 PM. That means we need to leave no later than 2:00 PM from Myrtle. We're taking a day off. We spend the whole morning watching weather forecasts and reports on nasa.gov and www.kennedyspacecenter.com. NASA is faster; the center's site info is about 10 minutes behind. That's it, it's noon. We sit in silence. I don't want to kill another 2 days. What if they launch? What if they don't? AHH, what should we do??? Enough! Let's go. On the way, our Marine friend calls and says he just saw two UFOs heading west, so it's definitely going to launch.))) At 11 PM, we're at the local Walmart. We buy binoculars and at 11:25 we're at the observation deck. NASA staff are talking over the radio. Not a cloud in the sky, everything is tip-top so far. The tropical night around us is pitch black, only the launch pad glows like a bright spot in the distance. After checking all systems, all 4 (I think) specialists give the launch a "go." People are standing there with fancy cameras, spending half an hour setting them up. TV crews are right there. Everyone is noticeably nervous. The countdown began. We have the best seats you could imagine. Although the ship is still just a small object on the horizon. I peer through the binoculars, thinking I won't see much anyway. 3... 2... 1... Launch! Suddenly, the binoculars are completely washed out. I can't see anything at all, just a white screen. I lower them and... The whole sky is as bright as day for hundreds of kilometers, as far as the eye can see. The light is so intense that shadows don't even move. The air is trembling from the noise. The ship with 7 crew members on board begins to rise slowly, tearing a huge column of smoke from itself. "5 seconds. All systems ok." At a certain altitude, the color of the flame changes and paints the entire sky blood-red. Now all the clouds are clearly visible. You're rushing, not knowing how best to watch—through binoculars or just like that. "30 seconds. All systems ok." Suddenly, the ship begins to bank sharply and accelerates faster and faster. The jet of fire from the nozzles is 6-8 times longer than the shuttle itself (300-400 meters). I don't think I've ever felt such power. And this small ship, somehow not burning up under such fire, heads into space... "1 minute 20 seconds. Shuttle is 60 miles high. Launch successful." The jet of fire shrinks and the shuttle becomes "just" a second moon in the sky. After a second's pause—applause. (The American way, of course, but it's appropriate here.) Everyone stands frozen for another half minute. We slowly turn around and walk to the car. The radio continues, "3 minutes 40 seconds. Shuttle is above Tasmania." Wow))) Suddenly, the TV crew approaches. They find out where we're from and interview us. Or rather, sort of an interview. I don't know if they aire
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