May 19, 2000

Turning to close the driveway gate in the glimmers of the quiet sunrise I caught it, streaming headily across the bluing sky leaving a thick trail of cottony white smoke that was dusted with the suns first colors of dawn. Visible even here in north central Florida, over 150 miles from the launch pad, the Space Shuttle Atlantis bellowed as she ripped the silence of the morning with her flaming stream and rumbled thunder. At the very head of the trail glowed a bright dot, almost invisible in the billowed smoke. There inside, sat the few brave souls who dared to cheat death, their very lives as ransom. I felt the excitement as the world, even in the commonality of ignited rocket boosters, stops in its tracks to watch a launch, especially a manned one. I still get goose bumps when I see one lift off. Part of me wishing it was my heart racing in that chair, knowing that there is one place to Get Lost where few humans have ever been.

The Kennedy Space Center is a paradoxical island of technologies beyond our childlike imaginings cohabiting with conservation of that which was here first--Nature in her unadulterated splendor. Here among the towering launch pads, rocket assembly buildings, shuttle hangers and control towers live more species of wildlife and symbiant flora than in any other single Florida reserve. One would presume that the Kennedy Space Center would be concrete and techno landscapes of power lines, cityscapes and industrial chimneys of some sci-fi futuristic movie set. It simply isn't so. Amid the earth shuddering thunder of the rockets dwell the alligator, spoonbill, bald eagle and deer. Its a refreshing combination of the future that does not neglect the past.

My fiancé and I visited the Cape and took the tours, watched the IMAX movies, touched moon rock and lingered, dwarfed under the mighty workhorse of the space program, a disassembled 363 foot Saturn V rocket. It had been over 20 years since my last visit. My, how things have changed. I, like all of us I'm sure, had lost interest in the space program to some degree, as it became almost commonplace to hear of a rocket freeing itself from the gravitational clutches of the earth to explore the endless universe. Remembrances of days when every launch was breaking news, interrupting our daytime teevee game shows and soaps, flooded my memory. We used to bring our teevees and radios to work to witness history in the making, but now it seems no more exciting than grocery shopping. Familiarity makes us forget that these men and women risk everything for that moment in time. The honeymoon period for the space program is over, and we are complacent with our "spouse". Expectations that things will be a certain way taint us, and for the most part the events are status quo. That's what the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex is for. It is our reminder of patriotism, of bravery, of horrific failure, of incredible successes, of glorious futures and spine tingling inspirations. It brings to mind the dreams we have, the fears we overcome, and the wonder of the human spirit that makes it all happen. That's what the "family" album is for. To remind us of the incredible adventure we embarked upon a mere four decades past.

Sitting in the IMAX Theater, feeling the rocket rumble as the engines ignite, I noticed the adrenaline pump inside me. Minuscule compared to how each astronaut must feel as their bodies are conformed to every crease in their suits by G forces that I would never experience even on the best roller coaster ride. It strains their very souls, flooding them with pants-wetting fear and incredible euphoria in the same instant as "T minus 6 seconds" resounds. The particular film we saw, "Keeping the Dream Alive", was made in honor of those who lost their lives in the Challenger tragedy. I watched it with the familiar feelings of awe and a stray tear. They were not the first to lose their lives, nor will they be the last. As long as there are planets to discover, stars to reach, and comets to chase there will be true thrill seekers, foolhardy lovers of adventure and passionate explorers who will rise to the challenge to be the first to place their footsteps on the surface.

Among the now retired pioneers planted in the rocket garden, I realize how seemingly oblivious we are in the pursuit of discovery, that we endanger the lives of a few for the sake of the many. Perched precariously atop several tons of highly explosive rocket fuel in a capsule barely large enough for 3 men, they found the ultimate rush, space exploration.

One of the most exciting places we visited was the area where they are actually constructing the components for the International Space Station. To imagine that next year (how appropriate; 2001) people will be living in space for upwards of 5 months at a time is astonishing. Visionary, Jules Verne would stand mouth agape seeing his fanciful story now modeled before him, tangible. We strolled through actual modules of living quarters and labs, feeling as if we had stumbled onto a Star Trek movie set. The future crashed into reality right before my eyes and it was nothing less than a spiritual moment.

Last night, while on the phone, my fiancé, a painful 150 miles away on the space coast, mentioned he heard a familiar rumble as we spoke. Another ship, the four-time foiled Atlas rocket, had finally broken free of Newton's law and barreled toward the heavens. I went out on my front lawn and stood agaze to the east and followed the trail it left in the darkening sky. Goosebumps guaranteed.

Gail Boysen is a regular contributor to Get Lost Magazine. These days she likes to say the word "fiancé" frequently.