Spectators cheer as Discovery launched Thursday. (AP)

By Joel Achenbach
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, October 30, 1998; Page A23

CAPE CANAVERAL, Oct. 29 � The many first-timers watching today's launch of the space shuttle learned something that veteran launch watchers have always known: It's a good show. It doesn't last long � it's a snap compared to the buildup � but it doesn't leave anyone feeling cheated.

There are different strategies for taking in a shuttle launch. The best strategy is to be a famous person, a president, a NASA launch control official, a member of the press corps or someone who is impersonating a member of the press corps.

Most people watched John Glenn's return to space from at least five miles away, a distance at which the shuttle looks rather toy-like. The NASA causeway across the Banana River draws a lot of space-industry families, bused-in schoolchildren and hard-core launch fans who requested car passes six months earlier.

There's a slightly different feel in Titusville, west of the space center, where you are more likely to find the old folks in earth-flattening RVs, the hucksters who feed off crowds � "Limited edition John Glenn coins, only 10,000 made!" � and the tattooed beer drinkers on the tailgates of pickup trucks.

Survival at a shuttle launch requires preparation and patience. In the long hours of waiting, a person has a chance to contemplate many of the subtle issues of existence, the basic needs, the calls and cries of nature. There are matters of food, beverage, sunblock. The importance of a comfortable seat looms larger by the hour. There are Seinfeld moments, such as when Kelley Hewett decided to buy barbecue flavored Fritos instead of potato chips because there is greater chip density in a Fritos bag.

"You just can't get a good bag of chips anymore," she said, parked on a lawn chair in the baking sun.

About a quarter of a million people showed up to wave goodbye to Glenn. All week, and for months, NASA wanted a smooth and routine launch of Discovery. Perhaps that was impossible from the moment, eight months ago, when NASA revealed that the old hero would return to astronautics. Routine was never an option.

This was a launch that drew everyone from the president to Sean Connery to the Kennedy clan to that actor who was in "Titanic" and was last seen ducking out the back door of Bernard's Surf restaurant Wednesday night. It almost seemed inevitable that something weird would happen, and so it did � right at blastoff, a door panel fell off the shuttle and bounced off the main engine.

NASA officials did not sound exercised about the door panel, indicating that a missing door panel on a spaceship was not necessarily as horrifying as it might seem to the inexperienced observer. Glenn himself sounded enthralled as he floated above Hawaii � "Zero G and I feel fine," he said, echoing his young self.

Glenn has not missed a beat in this whole affair. He seems incapable of saying anything outrageous or terribly memorable. He reported that the view of Hawaii from space was "gorgeous."

Glenn's first historic flight was scrubbed repeatedly because of weather and technical problems. This one would have been a tough one to scrub, with the logistics of the presidential visit, the heavy hype in the press and the big crowds.

Robert Gass of Fort Lauderdale had been to 14 previous launches and may have been the most excited person on the Cape who was not actually inside the shuttle. He is an accountant, age 37. His father dragged him out of bed as a child to make him watch rocket launches. This time he brought about 20 friends to the NASA causeway. He kept a running patter, anticipating each word from Launch Control. He announced his emotional state as it varied minute to minute. He waxed philosophical about the dangers.

"Human beings are flawed. Mistakes happen. I worry until the boosters fall off," he said.

Gass gave brief seminars on the Russian space program, the tale of astronaut Deke Slayton's heart murmur, Alan Shepard's refusal to let a technical glitch ruin his moon landing, and the G-forces inside the Atlas rocket that first put Glenn in orbit.

"The Atlas was designed as an ICBM. When it went up, you got crushed," Gass said.

A loudspeaker burped information in flat, tinny tones: "We are continuing to hold . . . "

"It's taking too long. I don't like this," Gass said, pacing.

The loudspeaker said: "At this time, we are go."

Gass was elated again. He gave another seminar, this time on what the launch would look and sound like.

"All of a sudden the sound comes and it starts to rumble and it starts to rumble louder, then it crackles, and then your stomach starts to shake."

The poll of the launch team began, his favorite part. This was where the launch director asks everyone for a "Go" or "No Go" assessment.

"ATC."

"Go."

"TVC."

"Go."

"LTS."

"LTS is go."

On down the line. Discovery was a go.

"This is gonna be great!" Gass said.

The loudspeaker said: "Range is no go."

The crowd moaned and squirmed. There is nothing quite as excruciating as waiting for the controlled explosion of a space shuttle and having something go wrong.

"Some idiot's violating the airspace," Gass said.

He was right. There were two unscheduled holds due to private planes intruding into the airspace surrounding the Kennedy Space Center. Another hold, scheduled, had dragged on for eight extra minutes. When NASA puts a launch on hold and you're on a causeway in the middle of the Banana River, with every car blocked in for miles, time grinds to a halt.

Over in Titusville, there were options. Specifically, a person could cross U.S. Highway 1 and grab some chow at Dogs R Us. The chow at Dogs R Us includes hot dogs. Denise Guy ("I'm a girl but I'm a Guy") explained that it's a popular local hangout.

"They got every style hot dog you can imagine. They got Mexican hot dogs, they got German hot dogs . . . "

"They got Italian hot dogs, a chili hot dog," interjected her cousin, Debbie Corum. "A hot dog with relish and . . . "

So it went for hours, and hours.

Bill Hancock drove in the night before in his Chevy Silverado with the king cab. He calls himself "Bubba" and identified his ethnicity as Country. He brought a jumbo bag of boiled peanuts. He grilled some steaks on an outdoor stove. Through the long night he drank beer and argued the deficits of the president. (Not a unanimous opinion: One Cocoa Beach establishment, The Lido, put a friendly greeting of "Welcome President Clinton" on its marquee. It's a strip club.)

Hancock did not sleep much and by this morning, he had become quite friendly if a bit obtuse. He attempted to explain his support for Glenn's mission.

"Hopefully, somehow, someday, that'll help out � " He paused, a long time.

"Scientific research," said his friend, Ray House.

"I was going to say something like that, but not exactly that," Hancock said. He sipped his beer, and took another stab at it.

"We waiting for the ol' man to hit the rocks!"

Several observers agreed that they were unfamiliar with that locution.

As the launch neared, it became easier for everyone to concentrate. On the NASA causeway people paid attention to every burp of the loudspeakers. On the shuttle, an old man was getting strapped in for an amazing ride.

The final countdown began.

"Ten, nine, eight . . . "

First came a white cloud. The cloud enveloped the shuttle. For a moment there was nothing to see but the billowing vapor. Slowly the shuttle lifted up through the cloud, powered by an orange flame. The sound arrived. It rumbled. It crackled. It made a person's belly shake.

The vapor trail was bright and spectacular, and the shuttle passed in an arc overhead, exploding into space, dropping behind two tiny dots, the solid rocket boosters.

"Within 30 seconds," lectured Gass, "it was already 25 miles up and it was going 3,900 miles an hour."

The loudspeaker said: "An uneventful climb into orbit today for the seven-member crew of Discovery."