The Magic is Back!
On a thundering pillar of fire, Discovery carries the nation's hopes aloft again

By Leon Jaroff

For the more than 1 million Americans who crowded the beaches and causeways around the Kennedy Space Center last week, and for millions of other Americans clustered around TV sets, the tension was palpable. As the countdown clock flashed out the number of seconds until lift-off, the eyes of an entire nation focused on Launch Pad 39-B and the gleaming white shuttle Discovery, flanked by its two solid rocket boosters and clinging to the side of the giant, rust- colored external fuel tank. In the minds of many, however, another vision intruded: the hellish yellow-orange burst in the middle of a Y-shaped cloud that 32 months earlier had marked the destruction of the shuttle Challenger.

Finally, spectators joined in for the last 15 seconds of countdown, the engines ignited and the shuttle rose majestically from the pad, carrying its crew of five veteran astronauts. Over the space center's loudspeakers came the triumphant announcement: "Americans return to space, as Discovery clears the tower." But the cheers were muted as the crowd -- many with clenched fists, gritted teeth and teary eyes -- nervously watched the spacecraft rise on its pillar of flame, then begin its roll out over the Atlantic. Again the visions of Challenger arose. Now the loudspeakers carried the voice of Mission Control in Houston, which took over from the Kennedy controllers seven seconds into the flight. "Go at throttle up," Houston called at around the 70-second mark, and more than a few stomachs knotted. That was the last command heard by the crew of Challenger, which exploded seconds later. "I was saying 'Please, please' as Discovery passed the 73-second mark," says Psam Ordener, wife of a Houston space engineer.

Discovery commander Rick Hauck promptly answered with a laconic "Roger go," bringing a smattering of applause and cheers that grew into a chorus near the two-minute mark, when the spacecraft successfully jettisoned its two spent solid rocket boosters. But experienced space observers did not relax until Discovery shut down its three main engines 6 1/2 minutes later, shucked off its external fuel tank, then slipped safely into orbit about 180 miles above the earth a half hour later. Declared elated space engineer John Kaltenbach: "This was the one that had to fly. It looks damn good. Oh, it just feels so good!"

The nation's collective sigh of relief could have launched a thousand shuttles. President Reagan opened an awards ceremony in the White House Rose Garden with the dramatic announcement, "America is back in space." Admitted Reagan: "I think I had my fingers crossed like everybody else." In St. Charles, Mo., just after completing a campaign speech, George Bush got word about Discovery and hurriedly retook the stage. "I thought you might be interested," he told the crowd. "The shuttle is launched successfully, and America is back in space. We're back! America is back!" The crowd roared its approval. Declared Michael Dukakis, campaigning in New Jersey: "We're very proud of the astronauts."

Six hours later, Americans had more good news from space as they watched the televised deployment from Discovery's cargo bay of the $100 million Tracking and Data Relay Satellite. And so, on the first day of its scheduled four-day mission, the five-man Discovery crew achieved one of its major goals -- sending TDRS toward its designated orbit -- and seemed well on its way toward the other: a successful test flight of the newly refurbished shuttle. Discovery's leap into space seemed at last to have given the nation, as well as NASA, a long-needed catharsis, purging it of the lingering horror of the Challenger disaster, restoring the battered pride of Americans in their technological prowess and providing new impetus to a languishing space program.

Despite all the euphoria, some tough questions remained, not only about the future of the shuttle program but also about where the Discovery mission would lead the country's space program in the years ahead. Since the Challenger tragedy, America's lead over the Soviets has slipped, ambitious plans for scientific experiments in space have stalled, and commercial and military payloads have for the most part been grounded. Declared J.R. Thompson, director of the Marshall Space Flight Center in Alabama: "One good launch doesn't make a space program, but it's a damn good start!"

It certainly was. As the shuttle eased into orbit, mission commander Hauck felt only delight at the immediate tasks at hand. "We're looking forward to the next four days," he said. "We have a lot to do, and we're going to have a lot of fun doing it." Several hours later, astronauts Mike Lounge and David Hilmers, manipulating controls in the cabin, raised and tilted the TDRS package in the cargo bay, and activated springs that pushed it out of the open doors into space. After Hauck and pilot Dick Covey had maneuvered the shuttle to a safe 45 miles away, the TDRS rocket ignited, sending the satellite farther away from earth. Later that night, the TDRS rocket's second stage precisely nudged the satellite into a geosynchronous orbit, where it hovered 22,250 miles above the Pacific Ocean.

There, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, it unfolded two huge solar panels and two large umbrella-like antennas. Together with its sister satellite, TDRS-1 (already in orbit over the Atlantic), the new TDRS will give NASA the ability to communicate through a single ground installation with dozens of U.S. civil and military satellites.

While the other astronauts continued to check out Discovery's systems, Pinky Nelson began the first of eleven science experiments: growing crystals, which form more precisely in zero gravity, of specialized proteins such as gamma interferon and an enzyme found in the AIDS virus. By studying the crystals, scientists at the Center for Macromolecular Crystallography at the University of Alabama-Birmingham hope to learn more about the structure of the proteins, which may enable researchers to create new disease-fighting drugs. Other experiments scheduled during the mission included the production and study of crystalline organic thin films, evaluation of an onboard infrared communications system and the production in four space furnaces of special metallic alloys.

What may have been the biggest surprise of the mission's first three days was a bracing wake-up call recorded by comedian Robin Williams, patterned after the tag line of his movie Good Morning, Vietnam. At 5:30 a.m. Friday, the astronauts heard blaring from a cabin loudspeaker: "Gooooood Morning, Discovery! Rise and shine. Time to start doing that shuttle shuffle. Hey! Here's a little song coming from the billions of us to the five of you."