America Back in Space With Majestic Launch of Discovery : Green Means ‘Go!’ : 800,000 Rooters Try to Give the Team a Lift

Green was the color of the day Thursday as tens of thousands of people jammed themselves into vantage points along 15 miles of the Florida coast to watch Discovery’s flawless liftoff.

Green ribbons fluttered from car antennas, buttonholes and lapels. Little girls tied them in their pony tails.

“It just means Go!” explained Judy Brooke, a fifth-grade teacher from Mary Esther, Fla., who carried a fat roll of ribbon and a pair of scissors for those who arrived undecorated.

And go the shuttle did, as crowds estimated to be as large as 800,000 clapped and shrieked encouragement to Discovery in its mission of reviving the nation’s manned space program.

“There’s more than just $2 billion riding on this. It’s the future of the whole system,” Ray Kotchkowski of Union, N.J., exclaimed as the shuttle rose, ponderously at first, on a ball of bright orange flame.

“I’m so excited I can’t think,” said Bob Lakin, a defense worker who flew from his home in Cedar Falls, Iowa, to watch the launch. “We needed this.”

From a range of 10 miles, Discovery rose, deceptively soundless. As it bored its way into low-lying clouds and briefly disappeared, the cheering and clapping died away. Thousands of those watching, evidently with the Challenger disaster on their minds, seemed to wait for visible proof that the spacecraft was still intact.

Long seconds later, an accelerating Discovery pierced the clouds, trailing a thick plume of white exhaust against a clear blue sky, and its ragged thunder at last washed over the crowd.

The cheering resumed, only to subside again until the shuttle shrank to a faraway speck, free of its two strap-on booster rockets and safely past the 73-second mark--the moment at which the Challenger exploded 32 months ago.

Tens of thousands of people had positioned themselves the night before along U.S. Route 1 and shoreline roads, sleeping in campers, their cars or on blankets spread near the water’s edge from Cocoa Beach to Titusville, at 12 miles the nearest town to the launch site.

Many, like the Kotchkowskis, drove hundreds of miles to witness an event they felt carried a tinge of history.

“It’s a marvelous feat,” Kotchkowski, a retired insurance appraiser, said as Discovery vanished from view. He had enough faith that it would succeed, and roughly on time, he said, that he had programmed his VCR at home last week to record television coverage of the launch.

“Oh, you can see it on television,” his wife, Pauline added, “but to be here--this is something. It’s fantastic!”

The crowds were smaller than the million people NASA had anticipated, a throng that would have equalled the record set by Apollo 11, the first moon landing mission, in July of 1969.

Estimates Vary

A spokeswoman for the Brevard County Sheriff’s Department estimated the viewing public at 250,000, slightly more than the average for shuttle launchings. Some local news organizations, however, estimated that 800,000 watched from roadsides and shorelines, based on helicopter surveys of traffic jams that stretched 40 miles west to Orlando.

NASA officials said a record 5,000 media representatives applied for accreditation to attend the launching. Another 2,000 VIPs, ranging from members of Congress to entertainment figures, watched from special viewing areas set aside by the space agency, and broke into cheers, applause and a chorus of “Go! Go!” when Discovery climbed out of the exhaust cloud on the launch pad.

Among the VIPs reportedly were William P. Rogers, the former secretary of state who headed the presidential commission that investigated the Challenger accident.

Two relatives of astronauts killed in the Challenger disaster also watched the launch from the VIP area. Scott Smith, son of Challenger pilot Michael Smith, and Claude Onizuka, a brother of Challenger mission specialist Ellison Onizuka, joined the families of the five Discovery astronauts to observe from the roof of a NASA building about nine miles from the pad, NASA officials said.

In a reflection of a new sensitivity to safety that has permeated the manned space program, the Air Force moved the VIP viewing area from its customary site about 3 miles from the launch pad to a new site 6 miles away.

The Air Force also sought to ban news media from the grandstands they normally occupy next to the heavily reinforced launch control center about 4 miles from the pad, citing a new safety analysis indicating that an explosion shortly after liftoff could send one of the booster rockets streaking toward the press site.

In a Solomonic compromise, NASA agreed to limit the number of reporters, photographers and television technicians to 1,800 and moved the rest to a more distant site.

“The Air Force is being very conservative,” observed a shuttle engineer assigned for the day to directing traffic at the space center. “They’d move Titusville if they could.”

Despite the smaller than expected crowds, the resumption of shuttle flights has brought a collective sigh of relief from local businesses, which are heavily dependent on tourism, for which the Kennedy Space Center and regular shuttle launches are the biggest drawing cards.

“People used to take tourists for granted, but when the Challenger disaster happened, thousands of people were thrown out of work and real estate prices plummeted,” Ralph McMullen, Brevard County’s newly hired head of tourism development, said in an interview.

“Discovery is the best thing that’s happened to us,” McMullen noted. “Most people are staying here two or three days, and you’re looking at $30 million a day being pumped into the local economy.

“We’ve got 8,300 hotel rooms and 4,000 designated campsites, and we’ve basically filled them all.”

While many businesses put up traditional signs of encouragement such as “Fly High Discovery” and “Godspeed,” the several branches of First American Bank, still contending with a depressed real estate market, probably cut closer to the sentiments of local merchants with signs that said: “Welcome Visitors, Nice to Have You.”

Launch Parties

Local lounges, including the Shuttle Bar and Grill on Route 3, just south of the space center, advertised launch parties and happy hours extended over the duration of the mission.

And out at Gator Jungle in nearby Christmas, Fla., business was up 20% as about 200 visitors a day paid to watch 4,000 alligators and crocodiles competing for the 1,000 pounds of chicken tossed to them daily at 3 p.m.

Amid Discovery’s success, the Challenger’s loss drew muted attention, but it was not forgotten.

Local newspapers drew attention to a Challenger memorial in Titusville. It was remembered as well at the Christa McAuliffe Elementary School and the Ronald McNair Middle School, named for two of the seven who died.

And thousands of the local residents who lined the roads to watch Discovery carried a small memento provided by the state: The current version of Florida license plates bears the name Challenger in script beneath the image of a space shuttle blasting off.