_Live From Cape Canaveral_ - Jay Barbree [64]
I was seated at my microphone with a perfect view through a wall-wide window. Apollo 11, atop its Saturn V, was only three miles away, being bathed by an early-morning sun. The countdown kept ticking along, and my colleague Russ Ward was moving to his microphone to give me a break when I felt a finger tap me on the shoulder. A hesitant, stuttering voice asked, “Is it, ahh…is it okay if we watch from here?”
I turned. Jimmy Stewart and his wife, Gloria, were standing behind me, smiling pleasantly.
I came to my feet with instant respect. “Mr. Stewart,” I said, “you and your dear wife may stand anywhere you wish.”
He thanked me, they both smiled, and I had to turn my attention back to the business at hand. I often wondered what it would have been like to visit with the Stewarts for a moment, but the countdown was entering the serious stage and we were on the air nonstop.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control. We are now less than sixteen minutes away from the planned liftoff for the Apollo 11 space vehicle. All still going well…”
The count sailed smoothly down through arming the escape system. Range safety went to “green all the way.” Launch Control tested the systems for power transfer to the Saturn V. The lunar module named Eagle was now alive on its own internal power.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control. We’ve passed the eleven-minute mark. All is still GO.”
Ten minutes. Armstrong, Collins, and Aldrin’s command ship, Columbia, was now on its own power systems, and the massive crowd of a million-plus tensed as one.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control.” Jack King’s voice was now musical. “We’ve passed the six-minute mark in our countdown for Apollo 11. Now five minutes, fifty-two seconds and counting. We’re on time at the present for our planned liftoff at thirty-two minutes past the hour.”
The launch team armed the destruct system, and the access walkway leading to the astronauts and their ship Columbia swung back out of the way.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control. T-minus three minutes ten seconds. Apollo 11 is now on its automatic sequencer…”
The long-awaited “initiate firing command” had just slipped the rest of the countdown into computers.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control. We’re GO. The target for the Apollo 11 astronauts, the moon, will be 218,096 miles away at liftoff…”
T-minus fifty seconds. Saturn V went to full internal power. The dragon was stirring. Butterflies swirled deep in Armstrong, Collins, and Aldrin.
“This is Apollo/Saturn Launch Control,” Jack King was now singing. “Neil Armstrong just reported back. It’s been a real smooth countdown.
“Our transfer is completed on an internal power with the launch vehicle. All the second-stage tanks now pressurized.
“Thirty-five seconds and counting. Astronauts reported, feels good.
“T-minus twenty-five seconds.
“Twenty seconds and counting.
“T-minus fifteen seconds, guidance is internal, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, ignition sequence starts.”
Far below Armstrong, Collins, and Aldrin, a torrent appeared instantly, exploding beneath the five mighty engines of the first stage. Twenty-eight thousand gallons of water smashing into curving flame buckets to absorb the mighty rocket’s fire.
Apollo 11’s Saturn V roared to life, but it was anchored to its launch pad by huge hold-down arms, chaining it to Earth until computers judged it was howling with full energy.
“SIX, FIVE, FOUR…”
And chunks and sheets and flakes of ice fell steadily from the coatings formed by the super-cold oxidizers and propellants on the huge fuel tanks. Apollo 11 was ready to leave, Saturn V’s mighty engines were screaming, get the hell outta the way…
“THREE, TWO, ONE, ZERO, all engines running, LIFTOFF. We have a liftoff, thirty-two minutes past the hour. Liftoff of Apollo 11. Tower cleared.”
The astronauts felt a gentle sense of motion, but it wasn’t that way outside.
The earth shook. It shook for all to feel, and in a firestorm of flame and crackling thunder Apollo 11 began its journey. Birds flew for safety, wildlife fled for shelter,