The Construction of Space Shuttle Launch Complex 39-B

And here we find ourselves looking, up-close and personal, at the very Thor-Able engine nozzle which I placed Kai's unwilling hand upon, that fateful first day at The Museum. Kai is very young, but by this time already, the seeds were sprouting which grew into a standing leitmotif between the two of us wherein Kai is the "adult" and Dad is the "child" and we were forever finding ourselves in situations wherein Dad was laughingly unable to resist the impulse to seize the moment in a way that may or may not have been all so well-advised from a "Stay between the lines," point of view, but was always guaranteed to result in an EXPERIENCE. And it was never just any old experience, but it was always an experience that defined living life to the very fullest, stopping near-short of placing yourself in actual danger, or seriously-forbidden territory, and in so doing created memories that never fade, and no end of stories that could be told with a wry smile and twinkling eyes. Kai always had a strong sense of the dubiousness of these sorts of things (which made him the adult, of course), but in the end could plainly see for himself (again, even at such a young age) that whatever it was that his "child" of a father was proposing, was just too cool to resist doing, and moments are made for seizing, and... yeah, let's do this. Here we see Kai's feet beneath the nozzle of the Thor-Able, and if I know Kai, he was not just idly standing around in there with his mind drifting, but instead was doing a little seizing of the moment for himself, with perhaps the tips of his fingers running softly across inner lining of that nozzle, the part that comes in direct contact with the fire, giving things a good and proper consideration there in the cool dimness, of size and feel, of force and energy, and how metal is made and shaped and textured, and the marvelous way that heat-exchanger tubes are close-fit brazed to one another, and perhaps even the smell of it all, too. Kai misses very little, and is one to use all of his senses when appraising things.

And then Dad says "Let's drive the Atlas!" and who in all the world could resist a thing like that? The stretcher which carries the ICBM was a whole totally cool thing, all to itself, and down low, way back at the back end of it on both sides, it had little driver's cabs, complete with a nice big steering wheel and everything, just in front of those very-steerable indeed, rear wheels. So you could drive the Atlas! And of course Kai has his usual very sensible (adult) reservations about things, but Dad's jumping around like the little kid that he is, saying "Let's do it!" and now he's got his hands on the little door handle, and it's unlocked, and the door opens right up on a set of hinges that are still in perfect working order, and there's this nice comfortable seat to sit on, and that large military-looking steering wheel is right there, just begging to have someone's hands placed on it, and now Dad's helping me up and into the cab, and... yeah, let's do this. And so we did. And how many other little kids do you know, who have driven an Atlas? Close the door, pick up the camera, click, and it's done, and it's done for a lifetime, and nobody will ever be able to take it away from us again, ever. And then you get out, and close the door and be sure it's properly latched once again, and you stand there looking up at that stainless steel behemoth resting placidly on its side, supported by its yellow stretcher, and it's flight hardware, and in the case of the Atlas, that means that it's basically a gigantic stainless steel balloon, which means it must constantly be kept pressurized, lest the balloon collapse under its own weight, and we walk around the stretcher some more, and there lies a very common-looking gray pressurized-gas bottle, no different from the kind of metal bottle you might find on a ironworker's torch kit, and the thin metal line coming off its top snakes around into the inner opacities of the stretcher, and in the breezeless calm and heat you can hear it, giving off a faint hiss, and somehow that makes the astounding piece of flight hardware sitting right in front of you even more real than it already was, and isn't this just the finest day imaginable to be out here all alone, with all of this to ourselves, and all the time in the world to consider it all, and enjoy it all, and bathe in the glow of each other's company while we do it? Yes. Yes it is.

It's funny how a thing so evil can be turned into a thing so wondrous by a small child. This machine, this Atlas intercontinental ballistic missile, was purpose-designed and built with a cruelty beyond imagining. Designed with cold-blooded intent, sharply focused, diligently pursued and backed by the full resources of an entire nation state…

...to incinerate the populations, children, women, and men, of whole cities, in a single stroke.

An instantaneous Flash of Death.

And yet somehow…

It is also a thing of sublime beauty. A Chariot of Fire which rises high above. Farther and faster than anything else which had ever come before it. A thing that eclipses all other things which fly. A thing that flies so high that it joins the stars which dwell in the heavens above, and becomes a star itself. A literal star plainly visible to your own eye, moving in silent stately grace across the heavens above.

And if you are a small child, and you are properly possessed of that Sense of Wonder which so many adults have somehow lost somewhere along the way, you can tease these two intertwined diametrically-opposed concepts apart, place the evil aside, put it in a place where it does not, can not, enter you, and then resonate with, and fly with, a Great Chariot as it ascends heavenward.

And now we find ourselves across the grass, back toward the blockhouse along the line of the pad power and instrumentation cable trench, away from the recumbent Atlas, and no end of marvels and wonders are to be found here too, and the Sparrow, sitting there on its stanchions, is too good an opportunity to pass up, and so it is not passed up, and it gets ridden, for a short while, and more wonders call us onward, and who knew that preparing for nuclear war could be this much fun?

And the Cape is also a place where wildlife can be found. In the quieter corners, a variety of creatures can occasionally be glimpsed, and today Kai has walked over to an armadillo, placed himself at a sensible distance from it, and the two of them consider one another quietly, unhurriedly, neither one of them being quite sure what the other might do next. And after a few moments, Kai moves away and leaves the armadillo in peace, and heads back toward the displays in the museum.