THE TYPE OF KID TOUR BUS DRIVERS HATE
50 years ago, February 7, 1973 was a day that I’ll take to my space-buff grave and never forget it.
It was just three months prior to the first Skylab flight
and it was, to that point, THE most exciting day of my 15 years of life. It was
the day that I made my first journey to the Mecca of space-buffs; known to me
then simply as "The Cape." It was a name that, to space-buffs,
encompassed all of Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center. Sure, there is
a difference between the two places, but to a wide-eyed, space-crazed 15-year-old
that place was just “The Cape.”
For nearly a year my folks had been planning and saving as
they looked ahead toward a mid-winter vacation in Florida. Thanks to selling a
lot of programs at events at the Saginaw Civic Center as well as working there
as a Zamboni driver for his second job, plus Mom’s employment in the concession
stands and a windfall of life insurance from the passing of my paternal
grandfather, we were able to buy a brand new 1973 Ford LTD station wagon and
take our first family vacation since 1968. Florida was the destination, but to
me the only target on the map was The Cape.
To people raised and residing in the north central and Great
Lakes states, the word “Florida” invokes a sort of magic as well as images of
basking in the warmth of the bright sunshine- escaping the cold and gray gloom…
and that is in September, it is even more so in the dark depths of February. Thus,
it was that on the fourth day of February, 1973, with our station wagon heavily
packed we departed our driveway in Sheridan Park at 10:22 am headed for The
Cape! Okay, so the rest of the state just happened to also be Florida… that was
up to the rest of the family to keep in their minds; I was focused on
spaceflight.
Following two days on the road and one day in Daytona Beach
my parents probably grew tired of me scratching at the window and panting
toward the south. At mid-day on February 7th, we set out from Daytona for “The
Cape.” I staked out a seat in the tailgate of the car so that I would have
windows on three sides… just in case. That was probably a good position for me,
because upon seeing the VAB in the distance across the Indian River from the
528 causeway, I was bouncing around like a Superball in a paint-shaker. I could
not wait to get to “The Cape.” Of course the rest of the family wanted to do
nonsense such as eating and finding a hotel.
By the time that we were finally headed down the 405 toward
the KSC visitor’s center I was wound up so tight that the seat cushion was
close to becoming a permanent part of my butt. Before crossing the river we
approached the building for press credentials and standing there was a
full-scale mockup of a Mercury Redstone. My Dad decided to pull over and stop.
Looking back to tell me to get out and take a look, Dad found that it was too
late, I had bailed out before the car came to a complete stop. After some
photos we were on our way once again and in short order we had parked at the
visitor’s center. Again, I bailed out nearly before the car had stopped.
“Come on,” she urged, “the last bus tour’s about to leave!”
We were the last persons on the last bus that day and before
I knew it we were wheeling through the security gate and into my version of
wonderland. The bus tours in 1973 were not divided up into different tours of
different areas of “The Cape.” Instead, it was a Grand Slam sort of tour that
simply went everyplace. We cruised past the O&C building and office
buildings. Me, the know-it-all kid informed my mom that,
“This is where the astronauts stay and then walk out.”
A moment later, the bus driver said the same thing over the
P.A. Then it was onto the NASA Parkway- and there, across the river, out of my
window I could see the ITL!
“Ma! There’s the Titan IIIC facility!” I half shouted,
rapidly turning into the kind of kid that the tour bus drivers all hate.
A second later, the bus driver announced that if everyone
looked to their left, they would see the Titan IIIC facility… the people seated
near me were already looking as I explained how the vehicles were assembled,
what they boosted on and that the core was similar to a Titan II, only it was
called a Titan IIIA. The bus driver didn’t go into that much detail.
I had been there a thousand times in my mind, and I knew
what was where.
By the time we got onto the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, I was a bit ahead of the tour and those folks in the back of the bus near me already knew that famed Project Mercury Hangar “S” was coming up. Then came the old Mercury Mission Control building and soon our first stop- which would be the place where the Mercury Redstones were fired, or as I put it more simply to my mom; the place where Alan Shepard was launched. Although the bus driver called it Launch Complex 5 and 6, the blockhouse and museum that we toured was actually Complex 26, A and B. In the “rocket garden” associated with the museum were all of the rockets that I knew so well. Mace, Bomarc, Polaris, Corporal, Snark- they were all there and they were real- not just tiny white plastic models. My mind boggled, yet too soon it was time to get back on the tour.
Now we proceeded down the famed “ICBM Row.” The launch complexes for all
of my favorite missions, Atlas Complex 14, Gemini Titan Complex 19 and finally
Launch Complex 34 where all there. Complex 19 had its erector lowered, but its
service tower was still standing; I snapped an out of focus photo. Finally we
stopped at Complex 34 where we again were allowed off the bus.
I don’t think my mouth had stopped for one second. My Mom noticed that the people seated near me in the back of the were no longer listening to the bus driver, they were listening to me, the 15-year-old space geek. Not because I was loud, but because I actually knew what I was talking about. As we walked from the bus into the LC-34 blockhouse, I went from broadcast mode to record mode; because the driver was talking all about the blockhouse, and I did not know much about them. I soaked up every word. Once outside again, the driver talked about the Apollo 1 fire and told everyone that it had happened here. Then as we filed back toward the bus, I told everyone about SA-1, 2, 3 and 4 as well as AS-201 and 202, which had also taken place at LC-34 and in my mind were pretty important as well. As we filed aboard the bus I tried to imagine what the launch tower and service tower must have appeared. They had been reduced to scrap and removed just months earlier. Looking down at me feet I spotted a rusting bolt and washer- which went immediately into my pocket.
Pressing on we headed for Launch Complex 39A. I pointed out
the press site and the Mobile Service Structure, which was in its parking place
next to the crawler way. Suddenly, I saw something along the roadside that I
recognized, but no one else had apparently noticed; lunar rover tracks in the
sand! Excitedly I pointed them out to my mom and, of course everyone seated
nearby,
“Look! Those are rover tracks! That’s where the Apollo 17
astronauts practiced driving the rover!”
Mom was suddenly doubtful,
“No…” she groaned, “I don’t think so.”
“I’d know ‘em anywhere,” I shot back, “those are rover
tracks!”
Once again, the bus driver came over the P.A. and confirmed
my sighting. Mom never doubted me again when it came to spaceflight.
At the foot of Pad 39A was a sign listing all of the Saturn
V launches that had taken place there thus far. Only one was yet to come-
Skylab 1. Mom wanted me to pose in front of the sigh as she shot a picture of
her child who was growing up with spaceflight. I posed reluctantly, but 42
years later that photo would be on the cover of my book on Skylab and ASTP.
Our final stop was the legendary VAB, the Vehicle Assembly
Building. For any space-buff, the VAB is pretty much the monolith that marks
the center of the American spaceflight universe. Now, I was finally going to not only see it,
but actually go inside! Getting off the bus we all did what every first-time
visitor does; we craned our necks until we nearly fell over backward and looked
straight up the side. As we entered the transfer isle through the standard
doorway on the north side, I found that the VAB is so huge that it plays a
trick on your brain. Your mind shrinks it down into proportions that you can
handle. As a result, the massive openings into the high bays through which the
launch vehicle stages are passed seem big, but not as large as they actually
are. When the tour guide told us that those openings are as tall as a football
field is wide- it simply boggled my mind. Another unexpected aspect of the
inner VAB is the lattice of crossing I-beams and girders. I had always imagined
it as being far more open and hangar-like, but the only real open space is the
transfer aisle. The high bays are so filled with platforms and access workings
that they completely hide the big launch vehicles until it is time to roll them
out.
In fact, as we stood in the transfer aisle, directly to our
right, at the other end of the VAB the fully stacked Skylab 2 Saturn IB was
being prepared on its “milk stool” launch pedestal in high bay 1. Across the
aisle from it, in high bay 2 was the fully stacked Skylab 1 Saturn V on its
mobile launcher. Additionally, there were two Saturn V S-II second stages in
storage in the other high bays and as many as four S-IVB stages in storage in
the low bays. We could not see a hint of any of them.
Leaving the VAB we headed back to the visitor’s center. As
we passed the VAB on our way out I saw that they had the lower doors open on
high bay 2 and you could see the base of the mobile launcher for Skylab 1! For
a moment the white and silver of the SA-513 booster glinted at me! Grabbing my
Instamatic camera, I snapped a picture. It was one of the only photos that I
took that day that came out in focus.
It was not until decades later that I discovered that my
visit to the VAB had come at the worst time. You see, just five days earlier
the Skylab 2 vehicle had been rolled back to the VAB after having resided at
Pad 39B since the 8th of September. The vehicle was rolled back to the pad
again just 19 days after I left! Additionally, the Skylab 1 Saturn V was rolled
out to LC-39A on April 16th. So, over an eight-month period, between September
of 1972 and May of 1973 there had been a Saturn launch vehicle on one of the
pads at LC-39, but I happened to visit there on one of the 24 days where there
was nothing on the pads.
Just my luck.
We got back to the visitor’s center with just five minutes
remaining before the gift shop closed. My Dad gave me a pat on the shoulder and
pointed to all of the space stuff for sale and simply said,
“Just go!”
This was my part of that two-week vacation and now I had a
mountain of space goodies and only 300 seconds to figure out what I wanted. My
hands were not big enough. I nabbed books, patches, stickers, post cards and a
Cashulette Saturn V model with its LUT and dumped the whole pile at the cash
register.
That night, in the hotel, I lay on the floor looking over my
“stuff” smiling gleefully with my head still spinning. I even took the time to
put the decals on my new Saturn V, the rest of the construction would have to
wait until I got home and found my glue. The following day, my dad said that I
had been cheated a bit in that we got to KSC so late that I did not have the
chance to see the rocket garden at the visitor’s center and I had not really
had time to “shop” in the gift store. So, before heading out to Disney World,
we returned to the KSC visitor’s center once again and I gave my dad the guided
tour of the rockets before I hit the gift shop once more. My Dad warned on the
way out,
“That’s it- do not expect to buy a lot of souvenirs at
Disney.”
“Like what?” I frowned and replied.
Indeed, I had all I wanted.
Forty years later- almost to the day, I was once again on
the KSC tour bus on my way to the VAB. For more than 30 years the VAB had been
off-limits to tours because Shuttle SRB segments were being stored there. Now,
with the end of the Shuttle program, tours were once again allowed- but only
until the SRB segments for the new SLS launch vehicle begin arriving. Thus, on
that year’s annual family outing to Disney, I requested that we should take our
kids and do the VAB tour. Much has changed since 1973, of course. Now the cost
of a single ticket on the tour is more than the cost of taking the entire
family back then. Of course, gas cost just 32 cents a gallon back in 1973 too.
In 2013 the launch vehicle that was being readied to be the Skylab rescue
vehicle back in 1973 now rested in the rocket garden, badly in need of a paint
job. And the VAB, stood empty- devoid of flight vehicles of any sort and having
no firm idea as to when another launch vehicle will be stacked within it. It
was somewhat sad to see it that way. As we left, I snapped a single photo of
the VAB to match the one I had taken four decades earlier.
When we got to the visitor’s center gift shop that Sunday
night, we had just 10 minutes left before they closed. I thought of my dad,
pointed my daughters toward all the space stuff and said,
“Just Go!”
So, they did, but not nearly with the zeal of their father
four decades earlier. In short order my youngest one took me by the hand and
led me over to a series of shelves with boxed space toys on it.
“I want that Daddy,” she said, pointing her tiny finger
toward a Saturn V, nearly the same size as my Cashulette model.
Looking around at all of the stuffed toys and sparkly
doo-dads and gizmos designed and packaged to catch a kid’s attention, I asked
skeptically,
“You want that?”
“Yes,” she replied firmly, “it’s a Saturn V.”
Well I’ll be…
It must be genetic.
