Our number one priority was to see Atlantis. Danny and I grew up, went to college and fell in love during the shuttle age. Rockets are put together from balsawood kits by other 5th graders and shot off down by the railroad tracks outside of town. Shuttles are the thing of Luke Skywalker and James T. Kirk. I’m aware that’s not entirely true. In fact, due to the shuttle program shutdown in 2011, NASA has returned to rockets (including those that can be used over and over again) to explore the final frontier. But, oh, the space shuttles. How I love them!
Enterprise.
Columbia.
Challenger.
Discovery.
Atlantis.
Endeavor.
I refuse to ruin it for you but NASA doesn’t just store its old shuttle in a big warehouse where visitors can peruse by on their way to pick up some space dots (Dipping Dots) at the kiosk outside. No. These people do everything big and bold and with emotion behind every punch. One does not just walk into the space shuttle exhibit. One is finessed through the doors by two incredible video presentations and a surprise that caused our group to break into spontaneous applause and even some tears.
The shuttle itself is the only one of the remaining four (you know what happened to the “C” shuttles) displayed with its cargo bay doors open so it looks like it is in action—perhaps placing crucial pieces on the International Space Station or repairing the Hubble telescope or giving an astronaut a spacewalk before breakfast. It is magnificent. As Americans, there are so many experiences we should have in life—The Grand Canyon, Lady Liberty, The Lincoln Memorial, the mighty Mississippi and please, oh, please get yourself to a space shuttle.
The dreams of a nation rested on these big, white and black machines. When I was little I thought they looked like killer whales and I was reminded of that as I stood before the perfectly-lit shuttle. My husband is a giant and his arms are outrageously long (according to the measurements we did at the Corpus aquarium, he has the wingspan of a bald eagle). Without too much difficulty, he could have touched Atlantis. It was that close to him. I begged him not to because I’m a rule follower (and the docent was right there!) and as I calmly explained, if he got me thrown out of the exhibit, I’d divorce him on the spot. I understood his longing, though. Atlantis glowed. She was full of spunk and “let’s go.” I think if we’d strapped her on to a couple rocket boosters and that big, orange, fuel tank, she would have gone right back up into that starry sky.
The Atlantis building is enormous and has three levels to explore, all of which direct guests back to the incredible shuttle itself, which is suspended in air in the center of the cavernous structure. I wore a cardigan but was covered in goosebumps anyway. My sister lives in San Francisco and during every visit, I make some comment about how Jody lives in a postcard. Well, this was like that. Being that close to a ship that made 33 trips into outer space is surreal. It feels like being in a postcard of something incredibly special and untouchable, just out of reach but at the same time, part of all of us.
We pulled ourselves away long enough to experience the many, many other exhibits encompassed by the Atlantis display. We slid down the huge slide, Paige crawled through the tubes of the ISS (International Space Station), we discussed how astronauts “go” in space. We sat in a replica of the cockpit complete with all the switches and buttons an almost-eight-year old needs to reach pure bliss. We even experienced a shuttle simulator that astronauts say best captures what real take offs feel like. I held my tongue between my front teeth because I thought I was going to swallow it. We did it all. However, every 15 minutes or so, we couldn’t help but stare back at Atlantis, maybe just to make sure she was still there or was really real. I don’t know. She’s just so beautiful that it’s honestly hard to look away.
Below Atlantis in a quiet hallway, NASA honors each of the 14 astronauts lost in the Challenger and the Columbia. Each one has a glass box of items precious to them and a brief biography of who they were beyond national heroes. We whisper explained it to the girls but I think it’s one of those things you have to live through to understand like JFK’s assassination or 9/11. Fortunately, our children don’t have those “remember where you were” memories associated with anything tragic. I feel compelled to write the word “yet” here but I won’t.
We spent a few minutes spinning shuttle tires, playing in an interactive simulator that gave us the chance to make repairs on the ISS and then sadly realized that if we were going to make it through the other KSC buildings, we had to take our leave of Atlantis. Danny took the girls through to the gift shop in search of astronaut ice cream. I double backed and stood by Atlantis for a few more minutes of solitude with my fantastic shuttle. She’s yours, too. Go say hello.