By Calvin Phillips, 2020 Matthew Isakowitz Fellow
The last time I saw a rocket launch must have been before I was 10 years old. The memory is so vague that I can only remember parking our van in the rain on the side of a road to watch it. I couldn’t even tell you what rocket it was. Yet at 24 years old, I was an aerospace engineer and aspiring rocket propulsion engineer…and I had never seen a rocket launch in my adult life. I set my sights on making SpaceX’s crewed Demo-2 mission, what I consider, my “first” rocket launch. Knowing how much my passion has grown for space and rocketry, I knew watching astronauts launch from the U.S. for the first time since 2011 was going to make me emotional.
The launch was planned for Wednesday, May 27, 2020. In order to get the best view, I had a plan. I would drive down to Florida on Monday, spend the night at my cousin’s house, and find a good parking spot on Tuesday night for the planned launch on Wednesday. Due to COVID-19 precautions, all of the parking spots you could normally get were closed, so I used Google Maps to find the closest road to park on. This turned out to be the northernmost bridge to the base. Come Tuesday night, my girlfriend and I drove to the bridge that had large “No Parking Overnight” signs posted everywhere with dozens of RVs parked next to them. We decided that such a historic event would allow an exception to these rules, so we drove as far as we could and parked on the side of the road.
We debated for a while if we should park right next to the water so people couldn’t park in front of us and obscure our view. We decided against it for what we thought was a high ground position: one that left about 50 feet between us and the water’s edge. We blew up the air mattress in the back of our borrowed van and slept through the night. Come morning, cars were beginning to park in the space between us and the water, but we were up high and our tripod was set up to clearly show we had every intention of getting a good video of the launch.
As the day passed, more and more people came in. The weather wasn’t looking the best and it was drizzling quite a bit. I passed the time on my phone and watched the other enthusiasts joining us. I remember staring at the ceiling of the van and saying, “The worst-case scenario is someone coming in with one of those tall sports tents and setting it up right in front of the van.” We decided to go for a bathroom break which took us about 30 minutes due to the long line, and when we came back I just had to laugh in despair. There it was, the large sports tent, exactly where I said it would be. Now our launch view from the shelter of the van was completely gone. The people huddled underneath the tent then incorrectly pointed to the main shore of Florida and talked amongst themselves that the rocket would be launched from “over there” and how the people with good views must’ve been waiting since yesterday (cue internal screaming). That’s when the rain started to pour down.
At this point we decided that the champagne couldn’t wait until the launch and we popped it open to drown out some of the feelings we were having at the moment. The rain stopped and the sun came out and the launch was still good to go, but now we didn’t have any champagne left. I took it upon myself to fix that problem, now about two hours out from the launch time. I walked 45 minutes across the bridge to find masses of people filing onto the bridge and cops now blocking cars from entering. I bought a new bottle of champagne and began my walk back. When I got to the bridge, the police were no longer letting anyone else onto the bridge. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get worse. Fortunately, I told the officer the shortened version of my story, and after confirming my car was on the bridge, he let me pass. I was back for maybe 15 minutes before they scrubbed the launch. Queue a two-hour ride back and two days spent killing time at the beach and Disney Springs before round two on Saturday, May 30.
Friday night we had a plan. If there was unoccupied space, people were going to fill it. We went to Home Depot and bought PVC pipe to claim some territory to secure the best view of the launch. We were going to stick them in the ground around the van so that people knew this time that this was our spot. We also decided that parking by the water wasn’t so bad even if we couldn’t see the full height of the launch tower. No one was going to try to set up in the three-foot space between us and the water, right? We went to our spot much earlier in the evening this time, set up our PVC, and put in a RedBox movie to fall asleep to.
This time we slept in a little later because we felt confident that our new strategy meant we didn’t need to watch out for spot poachers. The trunk of the van was pointed straight out to the water and our spot was definitely as secure as could be, until I sat up. There they were. One person had decided to set up a lawn chair right at the back of the van between us at the water. Their feet were literally in the water. At this point, I was just trying to think back to people I could have wronged recently to understand the karmic justice I was receiving.
But, for the most part it was fine—we decided the previous night that we were going to sit on top of the van this time with the tripod to get a completely unobstructed view no matter what. The weather was much better. Our new champagne bottle was ready to go. The cell service was so bad that trying to get an accurate countdown was impossible. I stood at the ready, camera rolling 20 minutes before the launch time. News reporters were all along the road, many of whom were going around and interviewing people. We watched this transpire while we sat on top of the van waiting to start recording. We lost sight of the reporters as we set our focus on the launch pad.
When the rocket launched, I thought I was going to be able to keep it together. It took about 50 seconds for the sound to hit us, but the glare of the Merlin engines had me going immediately. I struggled to keep the rocket in the camera’s view because you couldn’t see it on the finder, and my eyes were filling with tears. I kept yelling out to my girlfriend, “Do you see that, babe?! Do you hear it?!” I gave up on recording as I felt the tears stream down my face.
Once the rocket was above the clouds, and all that was left was the low rumble of the rocket itself and chants of “USA, USA,” I sat down and let the tears roll. We poured our glasses of champagne and sat in silence, soaking in the moment. That’s when one of the camera operators came over and recorded us—champagne in hand, tears still streaming. I never saw if we made it on the news or not. If we did, I’m glad to have been part of that historic moment, and if not, well, maybe it’s for the best because I couldn’t stop crying. It was just such an emotional and career confirming moment for me.
Even though I didn’t have a hand in this launch, I saw where my future was headed and all the work that led me to stand at that spot. It took several years for SpaceX and NASA to get to this point—a journey that started long before the Space Shuttle was cancelled. Thank you to my colleagues at NASA, SpaceX, and the hundreds of other players that had a hand in this launch. I hope that one day I can carry the torch when my turn comes to achieve things that someone my age will find inspiring as well.
