Freelance space writer Roger Guillemette has witnessed close to 100 rocket launches since 1975. On Wednesday (April 1), he was on the ground at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center, reporting live on the Artemis II moon launch for Live Science. Here’s what he saw at the historic liftoff:
There was palpable excitement at the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) press site for the Artemis II launch, unlike anything I’ve experienced in my many years of reporting on human spaceflight from this iconic location.
Journalists from all over the world — both grizzled veterans and wide-eyed newcomers — were positively giddy about witnessing astronauts returning to the moon after so many decades.
Bright television lights glowed atop the news organization trailers along “media row” as the major networks assembled their A-teams to cover the landmark event. Morning and evening national newscasts originated from KSC, with the Vehicle Assembly Building’s huge American flag and NASA “meatball” logo (first unveiled in 1959) serving as a dramatic backdrop. What was old suddenly felt new again.
Those of us on the older end of the age spectrum have fuzzy, fading memories of the Apollo era. For me, the historic Apollo 11 lunar landing mission in July 1969 filled the week of my 10th birthday; a few years later, in December 1972, a buddy and I “camped out” in his finished basement, watching color (!) television until after midnight to see Apollo 17 light up the heavens over Florida’s Space Coast on what would be the final crewed voyage to the moon for 50 years and counting.
You don’t simply watch the mighty rocket rise — you feel it, shaking the ground beneath you, its powerful, staccato thumping reverberating through your chest.
After those heady years of the “moon race,” the closest experience to Artemis II for me was the first flight of the space shuttle Columbia, STS-1, in April 1981. As a college senior, I stood just a few hundred yards from the spot where I watched Artemis II, witnessing a brand-new, never-flown space plane soar skyward into the dawn. I remember watching Columbia leap off the launchpad while I softly whispered, “Go, go,” with tears welling in my eyes. I found myself unconsciously doing the same for Artemis II (now with a few added colorful epithets).
Artemis II’s launch was impossibly bright to witness in person. Still images or video simply do not capture the sheer brilliance and intensity of the Space Launch System’s ignition and liftoff. Seeing the brilliant white-orange plume concentrate beneath the rocket was like looking at the sun itself, and it appeared much more dazzling than any space shuttle launch I ever witnessed. You don’t simply watch the mighty rocket rise — you feel it, shaking the ground beneath you, its powerful, staccato thumping reverberating through your chest.
More than five decades after Apollo 17 astronauts Gene Cernan and Harrison “Jack” Schmitt reluctantly departed the spectacular rolling hills and massive boulders of the lunar valley known as Taurus-Littrow, the United States (with its international partners) is once again taking the bold steps to continue exploring the strange new world it abandoned generations ago.
The goal has always been in sight. On a clear winter night, it rides high in the heavens, bringing light to barren, snow-covered landscapes. On a cool autumn evening, it hangs impossibly large on the eastern horizon, casting a warm orange glow on farmers and stargazers alike — each witness sharing the feeling that they can almost reach up and touch it.
Almost.
The goal has never been out of sight. It beckons us all to stop and renew an old acquaintance: our neighbor, the moon.
