[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 147 (2001), Part 10]
[House]
[Pages 13719-13720]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



                LAUNCH OF THE SPACE SHUTTLE ``ATLANTIS''

  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under a previous order of the House, the 
gentleman from Indiana (Mr. Pence) is recognized for 5 minutes.
  Mr. PENCE. Mr. Speaker, soon after I was appointed the only freshman 
member of the Subcommittee on Space and Aeronautics of the Committee on 
Science, I determined to tour the Kennedy Space Center and witness the 
launch of a manned mission to space.
  Just before dawn on Thursday, July 12, I fulfilled that goal and was 
left not only with a profound sense of appreciation for those who make 
our space program work, but also with an enhanced sense of pride in 
being an American.
  We arrived at Cape Canaveral at midnight in the company of 9-year 
veteran NASA Administrator Daniel Goldin. On the way to the launch 
site, our group of seven Members of Congress and their staffs was 
confronted with the sight of the Shuttle Atlantis, just one mile away. 
The shuttle and booster rockets stood straight up, steaming in the 
darkness, illuminated by billion-watt searchlights.
  With its 18 million pounds of hardware, fuel, and payload, the bright 
white craft stood, as Astronaut Edward Lu told me that evening, 
``creaking and steaming like an animal waiting to leap into space.''
  Moments later, shortly after 1 a.m., an attack helicopter appeared, 
Mr. Speaker, flying low, search lights and guns sweeping the road 
between the astronauts' residence building and the 1 A launch site.

                              {time}  2215

  After the gunship completed its reconnaissance, the bus carrying the 
five brave astronauts of STS-104 sped past our group. With all the 
enthusiasm of schoolchildren seeing Santa at the Macy's Parade, seven 
Members of Congress frantically waved as the bus conveying the crew 
sped past on its way to the launch tower.
  From the launch area, we traveled to the Apollo Center where the 
viewing stands were already filled with family members and friends of 
the crew, anxiously milling about in nervous conversation. We took our 
seats.
  With the 4:30 a.m. announcement that we were ``go for launch'' 
booming over the public address system, the clock began to run.
  At 5 minutes to launch, the ``Star Spangled Banner'' blared out of 
the speakers at the viewing stand, and all those in attendance solemnly 
rose to their feet.
  Mr. Speaker, the phrase ``the rockets' red glare'' froze in those 
morning hours in my mind as I listened to our national anthem. I 
thought of another night sky some 150 years ago by the light of rockets 
of a different sort when Francis Scott Key penned those magnificent 
lines about the United States of America.
  The rocket cleared the tower. Moments after, a burst of light 
appeared before the gantry way. The moment the main orbiter engines 
reached the top of the tower, Mr. Speaker, the humid Florida night sky 
turned as bright as day. The same instant, the sound with all its 
earthshaking force struck our location like a hurricane. The Earth 
shook and an explosion of hot air rushed past. I felt as if the wind 
had been knocked out of me, the sound only becoming louder as the 
rocket climbed in the early morning sky.
  Mr. Speaker, it was as though the Earth gave birth to a piece of sun 
and was sending it home. Atlantis seemed almost lazy in its rate of 
ascent. As the ship climbed, the light from the rocket which had, at 
first, shone dimly like the dawn, turned to midday brightness, 
revealing a blue sky and leaving shadows on the landscape.
  I turned to look at my wife. Karen stood with wet eyes in that other 
worldly brilliance. I was nearly overcome with emotion. But there was 
still serious work to be done.
  The shuttle climbed, leaving in its wake a sycamore-like column of 
smoke that seemed a pillar holding heaven itself. When the vehicle 
jettisoned its temporary booster rockets the crowd broke out into 
applause, but NASA Administrator Daniel Goldin would have none of it. 
His demeanor remained silent and stern. He explained that he did not 
celebrate launches until 8 minutes and 30 seconds into the launch. At 
that time the main engine cutoff occurred and the astronauts safely 
reached orbit.
  As the light faded and the sky returned to the darkness of night, 
Atlantis appeared as a red dot disappearing into the Northeast sky. 
Still visible 160 miles away, we heard the words ``main engine cutoff'' 
on the public address system. The entire crowd broke into applause, 
relief and tears.
  Later that morning I had the honor of speaking to over 100 mission 
specialists in the Firing Room. I would have called it mission control, 
but I learned that title belongs in Houston.
  I made a few comments to those Purdue graduates on hand and then told 
all the heroes wearing headsets how the words of the national anthem 
that morning had struck me. I thanked them for their professionalism, 
for another safe launch, and for the inspiration which their teamwork 
and their

[[Page 13720]]

spirit of exploration continues to provide to all Americans.
  After sharing a meal of beans and cornbread with the crew, which is a 
traditional post-launch fare at NASA, we boarded a plane to Washington. 
As I drifted off to sleep, Mr. Speaker, the words of our national 
anthem rang in my ears, and I became more convinced than ever that the 
rockets' red glare still gives proof in the air that this is the land 
of the free and the home of the brave.

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