_Live From Cape Canaveral_ - Jay Barbree [8]
I rushed back to my office. A message from Jim Kitchell in New York waited. I returned his call and learned Jim was already on the story. We compared notes on what each of us knew, and I was quickly on my way to see a few solid sources. I had no idea only eighty-eight people nationwide were officially in the know, and I was greeted with blank faces. Then, good old RCA, NBC’s parent company came through. The playback unit and transmitter were being put together by RCA, and my source played me the tape. I had it all. But as the “spook” had said, there was little I could do. We could film, record, and stand by. Nothing more.
I phoned Kitchell and he flew cameraman Bruce Powell down from Chicago. Atlas 10B roared from a freshly darkened Earth at 6:02 P.M. Eastern time, December 18, 1958.
And God! What a launch!
10B climbed into the darkness, the Atlas’s thrust lighting the night as hundreds of launches had before. But then, a little more than a minute off the ground, the rocket instantly reappeared from the darkness. The line of shadow cast by Earth stretched far over our heads, and now Atlas 10B was rushing across a lit sky above our darkness. It was bathed in sunlight from a sun that had already disappeared beyond the Cape’s horizon.
We stood frozen by what we saw. Rocket flames growing blood-red followed by dazzling blues and greens and yellows, all creating a shimmering aurora in space. We were looking at a multicolored sky alive and dancing. It was as if the gods were welcoming Ike’s message with their own shimmering Christmas tree.
Atlas 10B lifts off with Project Score. (USAF).
No one had ever seen before or will ever see again this incredible sight. The temperature, the moisture in the air, and the light rays from a hidden sun were just right. The stunning colors and lights glimmered and lingered in the heavens, and official phones were ringing off their walls. Some thought the world was ending. Others thought the rocket had blown up.
Meanwhile, inside Range Control, those who were tracking the Atlas were watching the big rocket grab for all of Earth’s rotational push. 10B needed all the help it could get to make it into orbit. It was headed due east and off the safety charts. The range safety officer (RSO) was about to have a fit. He was reaching for the destruct button to blow the Atlas to harmless debris when he felt a hand grab his wrist. General Donald Yates stood over his shoulder with a firm grip. “Don’t push that button, Captain,” the general ordered. “I’ll take full responsibility.”
“But, Sir,” the air force captain protested, “if we have a failure the missile could hit Africa.”
“Big deal,” the general bellowed. “A lot of jungle out there.” Yates released his grip. “Don’t touch that damn button, Captain. That’s a direct order.”
The range safety officer leaned back in his chair and began to sweat. General Yates held his breath, and an anxious White House awaited word.
Five minutes after Atlas 10B’s magnificent liftoff, the rocket sailed into Earth orbit and became the planet’s largest and heaviest man-made satellite.
Other press members reported it as a routine launch. I didn’t report anything. I grinned as NBC cameraman Powell sped away for his chartered plane to our Jacksonville affiliate. If the whole damn scheme worked, we’d have an NBC network report.
The air force returned the news media to Headquarters Building 425 at Patrick Air Force Base, where we had left our cars. Immediately, everyone was off the bus and off to the bars, believing the story was over.
Major Ken Grine, our air force escort, decided to stay in his office, and I decided to stay with him. We both knew why we were waiting, and two hours after 10B’s launch, direct from the White House we had confirmation from the President himself.
“Tonight,” Ike began, “An Atlas satellite was launched into orbit from Cape Canaveral. On board is this recorded message by me.”
The President turned and pointed to the White House radio technician:
This is the President of the United States speaking. Through the marvels of