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I can see a dozen picture-perfect blue sky launches on TV, video and postcards.
But none of that can replicate the moment when red-orange tongues of flame erupted from the base of the solid rocket boosters and Atlantis went sailing up into the clouds. None of those can capture the sound. And the cameras cut away, never showing you the apocalyptic clouds of smoke that billow around the launch site long after the shuttle is out of sight, or the way the vapor trail twists as it drifts downwind, like a helical stairway to the stars.
I love you, OV-104. That final flight always should've been yours. I hope you have a safe flight home to KSC, where you belong.
But none of that can replicate the moment when red-orange tongues of flame erupted from the base of the solid rocket boosters and Atlantis went sailing up into the clouds. None of those can capture the sound. And the cameras cut away, never showing you the apocalyptic clouds of smoke that billow around the launch site long after the shuttle is out of sight, or the way the vapor trail twists as it drifts downwind, like a helical stairway to the stars.
I love you, OV-104. That final flight always should've been yours. I hope you have a safe flight home to KSC, where you belong.
