Daniel's Trip to NASA, Part 3

            I’m writing this final blog post as I wait in the airport for my return flight to Philadelphia. I got here very early to beat the crowd of Disney World visitors leaving Orlando. Reflecting on the past couple days, the main thing I can say is that they were... overwhelming. In a good way.

            On the 24th of July, I met up with Bob Granath for an interview. Bob worked for NASA for 35 years, mainly as a public affairs specialist. Over his career, he wrote many articles communicating NASA’s activities to the public, and met with the media frequently. He retired this February, and is now a “docent” at the Kennedy Space Center, meaning he occasionally returns to help give tours and to talk to people like me.

I didn't take many pictures that morning, so here's Bob Granath's LinkedIn photo.

            For some reason, though, Bob’s annual pass to enter the Visitor Complex wasn’t working, so he had to wait in a long line to renew it. I was surprised that he had to wait in the same line as a normal visitor; I would’ve thought that Bob would receive some special treatment in return for his many years of service to NASA. The fact that he was treated like a tourist felt a bit disrespectful.

            Nevertheless, I joined him in the line, where we spent over half an hour. Not wanting to waste time, I began asking him questions while we waited. He explained that he first became interested in science communication when he was a grade-schooler and America’s space program had just begun. Hearing how NASA’s public relations workers communicated the agency’s activities to a young audience inspired him to go into that line of work himself. (This story reminds me of how I was always very interested in educational YouTube channels as a kid, and decided to start making some videos myself.)

            Bob also explained that the Visitor Complex was founded in 1963. It began tiny, but grew into a real tourist attraction, especially under the leadership of Delaware North, who was selected to operate the Center in 1995. Apparently, the exhibits are designed by Delaware North in conjunction with NASA, which is a little different from what I had heard a few days earlier. No taxpayer dollars are used to fund the Visitor Complex, and the profits go directly to Delaware North.

The KSC Visitor Complex in 1969.

            Once Bob got his updated pass, we scouted around for a good place to do an on-camera interview. He suggested that the Heroes and Legends exhibit might have some quiet areas. I had initially hoped that he might be able to get us into a private conference room or something, but by now it had become clear that Bob unfortunately didn’t have much special authority at the Visitor Complex. So, we sat in a bench inside the Heroes and Legends exhibit and taped our interview, with a new crowd of people passing by us approximately every ten minutes.

            This, obviously, didn’t make for the best filming conditions, but we made do with what we had. If you want to see the full interview, you can find it here: https://youtu.be/Puurou3sLhE. I'm hoping to use this footage in the video I'm making about NASA's future, but I’ll definitely have to do some audio enhancements for it to be usable.

            For our interview, many of the questions were just repeats of what I asked Bob during our long wait in line. The main difference came when we discussed NASA’s vision for the future. Bob emphasized that, since the end of the Space Shuttle program, the Kennedy Space Center has transitioned to serving as a “multi-user spaceport.” This shift has taken place under the leadership of Bob Cabana, KSC’s current director. Being a multi-user spaceport means that KSC mainly coordinates the launches for various private companies, including SpaceX, Boeing, and Blue Origin.

A brief clip from my interview with Bob, where he talks about that vision.

            Based on that, I asked Bob to comment on Time magazine’s latest cover story about “the next space race.” Bob asserted, as I expected he would, that NASA is more interested in collaborating with private companies than competing with them. I asked him if he felt NASA could trust a company like SpaceX to be a faithful partner, when Elon Musk has expressed interest in sending astronauts to the Moon and to Mars through SpaceX alone, free from governmental restrictions. Bob didn’t feel qualified to answer that one. I also asked if the KSC might soon become nothing more than a port from which private companies take off into space. He remained optimistic that NASA’s role in space exploration would be larger than this.

Time Magazine’s latest cover image.

            Furthermore, I asked him about NASA leasing Launchpad 39A to SpaceX, and if he felt that this betrayed the history of the pad. He said that this move was essential to the vision of KSC as a multi-user spaceport. And, surprisingly, I started to agree that this move made sense. I think that designating the pad as a historic landmark and then never using it again would conflict with the notion that space exploration is a continuous process that is continuing today. Many astronauts emphasize this idea, saying that their actions will pave the way for those who will eventually go out to explore other planets and even other galaxies. Ensuring that Launchpad 39A continues to be used for space travel actually seems like the best way to preserve this message, rather than letting it sit unused. And since NASA can’t get anything or anyone into space right now, it’s logical to let SpaceX use it instead.

            Bob and I covered a lot of interesting subjects in our interview, so I recommend skimming through the full video. (Again, it can be found here: https://youtu.be/Puurou3sLhE.) Once we were done and went our separate ways, I walked around the Visitor Complex as I waited for the SpaceX CRS-18 launch that was scheduled for 6:24pm. I had received a ticket for that launch from Emily McLeod who, among other responsibilities, works in Communication and Public Engagement for the KSC. We had sent a few emails back and forth prior to my trip. She’s the one who helped me coordinate my interview with Bob Granath, and she decided to send me a ticket to a launch as well.

            A free ticket? Now that was a nice surprise, and I was very grateful. I had been expecting to pay to see the manned launch that was planned for late July — this would’ve been the first manned launch from US soil since 2011. I was disappointed when that mission was pushed back by a few months, so I was willing to buy a ticket to any launch that might coincide with my trip. Now, through Emily, I had a free ticket, and I could tell my friends and family that NASA invited me personally to see a launch. That alone was exciting enough, but I had no idea about the VIP treatment I was about to receive.

            Eventually, on the 24th, I figured out where NASA’s invited guests were supposed to report to pick up their official launch passes. It was in an office near the gates of the Complex, but with an entrance purposely obscured from view so random visitors wouldn’t wander inside. Once they looked up my email and found that I was indeed on the list, they gave me a badge that said “SpaceX VIP” as well as a SpaceX water bottle. They also invited me to take as many NASA stickers and bookmarks as I wanted. That was super cool — who doesn’t love free stuff? Then, after loading us up with swag, I figured they’d now bus us out to watch the launch with everyone else. But again, I was wrong.

The SpaceX merch was only the beginning.

            NASA’s guests were told to proceed to a special bus-boarding area. Like the office itself, the lot’s entrance was obscured from view, and required us to pass through a gate between some wall-shaped hedges. There were about 250 invited guests, spread across four or five busses. Once we boarded, they informed us that we would be taken to the fifth floor of a building right across from NASA’s iconic Vehicle Assembly Building. Once there, there would be a balcony from which we could watch the launch. I was shocked, and excitedly texted my parents the news.

            The view was even better than I had hoped. You could see nearly every KSC launchpad, and SpaceX’s Falcon 9 rocket was clearly in view (although a bit far away, for safety reasons). Plus, the event had free catering. There was even a presentation which began at T-minus one hour, beginning with a speech by Bob Cabana, the director of the KSC himself. Like Bob Granath had told me in our interview that morning, Bob Cabana emphasized how excited he was that the KSC has become a multi-user spaceport. He looked forward to many more successful collaborations between SpaceX and NASA.

The view from the balcony.

            There were a few other speakers as well. One man told us about the various experiments that were getting launched into space as part of this mission, from Goodyear tires to cellular research (and even Nickelodeon’s famous green slime). Another suited fellow emphasized how excited he was that we will soon be able to industrialize space. He repeated himself; “Just think about that... Humanity stands on the verge of industrializing space.” I thought about it. I don’t think my internal reaction was the one he was hoping for.

            Once the presentation was over, we all went out to the balcony to watch the launch. While I enjoyed this special, once-in-a-lifetime experience, I couldn’t help but notice that this bourgeois treatment for NASA’s invited guests was in stark contrast to the bland treatment of regular visitors. While the Visitor Complex does have interesting and well-crafted exhibits, there were still many travelers who must’ve felt let down by the lackluster celebrations on Apollo 11’s anniversary. In particular, I compared our treatment to that of retired NASA workers like Bob Granath; despite 35 years of service to NASA, the Visitor Complex treated him like just another tourist. I suppose Delaware North holds most of the blame for that, though.

You know you're at a fancy event when they give you those tiny plates.

            Throughout the evening, I tried to figure out who these other invited guests were. I initially assumed that they must be wealthy donors to receive such a lush reception. In reality, I was able to infer (from a bit of eavesdropping and other context clues) that many of the invited guests were from the teams who designed the experiments that were getting launched to the Space Station on SpaceX’s rocket. Knowing this made me feel a bit more comfortable about the whole event; if anyone deserves a special reception from NASA, it’s these inventive scientists and their families. However, this also made me feel even more out of place than I already did. I always feel a bit uncomfortable at fancy events, but that feeling was amplified when I realized that most of the people around me did something to actually contribute to this mission. I suspected that I only got in because of my college.harvard.edu email account.

            Although, I do suppose that my role as a visiting researcher warranted my presence at the event, since NASA wanted me to get a better sense of the agency’s culture. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the experience. It felt really cool to be treated like a VIP by NASA, an organization I’ve admired since I was a kid. So, I did my best to take everything in and amp myself up. I was about to see a rocket go into space!

Me and the boys boutta head to the Moon.

            The launch was cancelled in the last 30 seconds. The weather was just a bit too unfavorable. The mission was rescheduled for 6:01pm on the following day, and since July 25th would be my last full day in Florida, this new window would be my final chance to view a launch during my trip. The weather forecast predicted storms, so I prepared for the worst.

            I returned to the Visitor Complex the following day at noon. I had bought tickets for a second lunch with an astronaut, this time with Al Worden. Al Worden, now 87 years old, flew the Command Module for Apollo 15 in 1971. This makes him one of only 24 humans who have been to the Moon (although he didn’t get to set foot on the surface). Al seemed like a funny and interesting guy. He told us that the launch of Apollo 15 was so smooth that he and his crewmates couldn’t even tell that they had lifted off. He also told us that, even though he had a World Record for being the most isolated man in history, he never felt lonely as he flew around the Moon. (He further pointed out the irony of having a “World” record for a feat he accomplished while orbiting the Moon.) He even informed us that he and his crewmates were the only Apollo astronauts that refused to turn over their solid waste to NASA doctors for inspection after they landed.

Al laying out his response to the common question, "Was it lonely up there?"

            They didn’t give us any time to ask questions. I’m not sure if that was Al’s decision or the moderator’s. We did get to take photos with him, though. I expected meeting an Apollo astronaut to be the obvious highlight of my trip, but I think getting invited to NASA’s private launch viewing takes the cake.

Me and Al.

            So, that afternoon, I returned to the secret bus entrance. NASA reinvites all its guests in the event of a launch delay, so they brought us right back to the fifth floor balcony. The event was essentially a repeat of the previous day, with the same guests and the same catering. The only difference was that this time, there was no big presentation — what more could they say?

            I claimed a spot along the balcony half an hour before launch. Since the previous launch was cancelled at the last half-minute, I was mentally prepared for another letdown tonight. It had been raining off-and-on all day, with 50% odds of a successful launch. I kept my eyes on one of the balcony’s many countdown timers. Once it hit thirty seconds — the same time at which the previous launch had been cancelled — a voice over the PA said “We’re go for launch.” At that point, everyone on the balcony cheered.

            We all joined in for the final ten-second countdown. Then, a plume of smoke appeared beneath the rocket, and it began to lift (rather slowly) off the ground with a jet of fire behind it. As it rose higher, the immensely bright fire was far more visible than the rocket itself. I alternated between watching it with my bare eyes and through my binoculars. I also filmed the first minute, but without really paying attention to if my phone’s footage was any good. After a few minutes of tracking the rocket through my binoculars, I’m fairly certain I saw the Falcon 9 separate from the capsule that would continue on to the space station. It was hard to tell for sure, though, because it was so tiny at that point.

My footage actually turned out pretty well, but you can find much better videos of the launch online.

            They told us that the rocket was scheduled to land about eight minutes after it launched. While this was not a particularly historic launch, reusable rockets that can land safely are a relatively new invention. I heard someone nearby say that he’s seen many rocket launches, but this would be his first time seeing a rocket landing.

            After losing sight of the rocket, I eventually heard the crowd stir around me, and I noticed that it was once again visible as it returned to Earth. I watched its descent through my binoculars. It looked to be falling incredibly fast, but then another jet of fire appeared below it and it began to slow down. It also went from an angled descent to becoming perfectly perpendicular to the ground. Then, I witnessed its landing. It honestly looked like a delicate touchdown, but the sonic boom that hit us a few seconds later indicated just how much force was packed into that landing. Still, I have to congratulate SpaceX for making the launch and safe landing of a rocket look routine. The organization has come a long way.

Heading to space.

            As we filed out of the event, they gave us CRS-18 mission patches and T-shirts, which apparently they only do in the event of a successful mission. It honestly felt like they were doing too much at that point, but I was still grateful. Seeing that rocket launch from inside the heart of NASA’s Florida HQ was a truly memorable experience, and a great conclusion to my trip; I really do appreciate being sent that ticket. Plus, I'm incredibly grateful for the Rosenkrantz grant that made this whole trip possible. Unfortunately, though, I think the rest of my summer is going to be pretty boring in comparison!

Daniel's Trip to NASA, Part 2

When I arrived to the Visitor Complex on the 20th of July, exactly fifty years after man first landed on the Moon, I must say that I was pretty disappointed. I was hoping that NASA might invite some Apollo-era guest speakers for a public event, or put some special Apollo 11 artifacts on display. Instead, the Visitor Complex had a tiny hula-hooping contest and a field of some 60s-era cars. Now, I can’t claim that I was surprised or misled. The Kennedy Space Center website was very upfront about the events it was hosting to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Apollo 11, so I knew in advance that the Visitor Complex wasn’t doing anything huge on July 20th. But, I still clung to some naive hope that I might be pleasantly surprised — perhaps Buzz Aldrin would drop in for an unscheduled speech. But alas, no luck.

The antique cars. They also had Armstrong's personal car at the front of the Complex.

That’s not to say that the Visitor Complex had no special events celebrating Apollo 11. On the 16th of July (the fiftieth anniversary of the launch of Apollo 11), there was a “Launch Flashback Event” which included a bus tour around the Space Center and couple Apollo-era guests. That event, however, was $175, so it was only accessible to die-hard space enthusiasts willing to shell out that kind of money. There was also a Duran Duran concert in the evening for another $99. Then, on the 20th, there was a “Lunar Landing Add-On Enhancement” where you could view Moon landing footage in a catered conference room for $50. That one sold out before I could consider if it was worthwhile to buy a ticket.

So, while the Visitor Complex had a few Apollo 11 celebrations, I was surprised that NASA didn’t treat it like a bigger deal. The Moon landing is, to some, the most iconic moment in American history, and it is certainly the most iconic moment in NASA’s history. I thought that NASA would want to go all-out in celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of Apollo 11, especially as a way to reinvigorate public interest in the agency. Instead, it felt like NASA gave half-hearted attention to the Moon landing. Again, this is just my perception, based mainly on what I saw at the KSC Visitor Complex; I’m not fully aware of what events NASA may have hosted at its other locations, such as those in Houston and Washington, DC. Furthermore, I can’t really blame NASA for not celebrating the fiftieth anniversary in the specific way that I would’ve wanted them to. (I was mainly just hoping for cool guest speakers.)

Nothing commemorates the Moon landing better than four hula hoops and one DJ tent.

But, in addition to what I saw (or didn’t see) at the Visitor Complex, I was also struck by the fact that NASA was willing to lease out the historic Launchpad 39A to SpaceX and let them completely remodel it. 39A was the launchpad for Apollo 4, 6, 8, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17, as well as many other missions; I would’ve thought that by now it would be an officially-designated historic landmark. Instead, it currently bears the logo of SpaceX and looks completely different from how it did during the Apollo-era.

SpaceX's "sleek" redesign of Launchpad 39A.

So, standing in the Visitor Complex on July 20th, I wound up asking myself a difficult question: does NASA care about its history?

This is, obviously, a complex question that really requires a research paper instead of a blog post. But if I were to hypothetically write that paper, I’d probably begin by analyzing the culture at NASA. Do the (primarily) STEM-educated people who work there have a disdain for the humanities and social sciences, including history? Or, perhaps, I’d base my analysis on money. How much of NASA’s budget goes to its History Division? Is the agency well-funded enough to care about its history, or must it focus on the missions and goals of the future? I think this is an important subject, and I might return to it in the future.

However, it’s also worth noting that the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex is technically run by a private company called Delaware North, not NASA itself. This distinction was made clear to me when I tried to present a launch ticket that NASA had sent me at the Visitor Complex information booth. The woman working there said something along the lines of “We don’t do anything with NASA directly.” I then became curious about this Delaware North / NASA relationship. Is it Delaware North that I should be disappointed with regarding the lackluster celebrations on July 20th? And who designs the exhibits at the Visitor Complex: Delaware North, or NASA? I couldn’t find much written online about this relationship, so I talked to one of NASA’s Communicators who works at the Complex. He said that Delaware North is responsible for the business side of the Complex, making sure everything runs smoothly. The exhibits, though, are still designed by NASA itself, and the events at the Complex are typically scheduled by NASA as well.

So, with the confirmation that NASA is indeed responsible for the exhibits at the Visitor Complex, I decided to focus on one specific exhibit and perform a deeper analysis. Specifically, I wanted to observe how NASA communicates its history and goals to the public in an engaging and easy-to-understand way. (Analyzing how science is communicated is particularly interesting to me as someone who makes educational YouTube videos.) So, on the 21st of July, I spent several hours taking notes on the Space Shuttle Atlantis exhibit. It’s one of the newest exhibits at the Visitor Complex, and, with a price tag of $100 million, it’s likely the most expensive. This exhibit is on the far end of the Complex, but visitors are beckoned there by the giant orange model of the Space Shuttle rocket which can be seen from any part of the Complex.

If my math is right, then the real Space Shuttle rocket isn't as big as this giant model.

After passing under the rocket model and through the doors to the exhibit, you then proceed up a ramp. On the walls going up the ramp are numerous quotes about the Space Shuttle, including “It is an extraordinary flying machine, the most extraordinary that man has ever built” and “When I saw that Shuttle take off at dusk, it was the most unbelievable experience.” As far as the design of the exhibit, it makes sense to include brief quotes along these walls, as people only have the time to read a sentence or two every few yards as they move continuously up the ramp to the main exhibit. But furthermore, these opening quotes set the tone of the exhibit: what you are about to see is going to be extraordinary, unbelievable, and “one of the greatest engineering accomplishments” of all time. Prepare to be amazed.

Another one of those quotes.

Once at the top of the ramp, you enter a room where the first of two six-minute videos will be shown. The room can get crowded, and only has a few benches along the back walls, so most people choose to sit on the floor. The first video is a fictionalized history of the Space Shuttle program, where actors portray various NASA engineers asked to design a vehicle that can take off like a rocket and land like an airplane. The film emphasizes that this is a very difficult task of engineering, showing the numerous pitfalls along the way, which further bolsters the idea that the Space Shuttle is an extraordinary machine like none other before it. The engineers in the short film are portrayed by men and women of all races, and while I think this is helpful for young visitors to see, it also blurs the unfortunate fact that NASA has been historically dominated by white men until very recently.

The second short film includes real footage of Space Shuttle launches and landings. When it ends, the screen lifts up to reveal the main exhibit: a massive room with the Space Shuttle Atlantis hanging from the ceiling. One of the interesting parts of the exhibit is that, up to this point, it has not been clear that you are going to see the real Atlantis. This surprising turn of events adds to the sense of awe that the exhibit has been trying to evoke from the start.

The grand unveiling, dramatic music and all.

Around the walls of the Atlantis exhibit are colorful information panels that combine images with text. One section includes information about the Shuttle’s engineering, from the heat of the engines to the chemical composition of the fuel. Another area discusses the Hubble Space Telescope, and how the Shuttle program was essential to keep it running. I noticed that these information panels generally include three main types of text. First is the huge header text that says what the panel will be about; if you’re walking quickly around the exhibit, this is the first thing you’d see, and if the title seems interesting you may stop to read the whole thing. Next we have the medium-sized text, which has one or two sentences of key information. This is probably as far as most people get before getting bored and moving on, so the exhibit designers have to do their best to provide all the most important info here. Then, there’s the tiny text that goes into even greater detail, often in full paragraphs. This is likely only read by the true space enthusiasts; even I found myself skimming these sections.

This panel does a good job at illustrating what I mean.

In addition to that, some panels also include little text boxes which begin with “Hey grade schoolers!” or “Hey middle schoolers!” or “Hey high schoolers!” Those boxes generally feature a scientific fact related to the Shuttle program written to be understandable to that specific age group. While I appreciate the attempt to make science understandable to younger audiences, I don’t really get this approach. If I’m a middle schooler, and I see a box saying it’s for grade schoolers, I might feel like I should ignore it. So, I think another header might have worked better, like “Hey, young scientists!” Plus, the text in these boxes was too small; most kids will ignore them altogether. I did, however, appreciate the other little boxes labelled “Space Geek Facts.” These were slightly more advanced scientific fun facts about the Space Shuttle. Teens and adults were probably the target audience for these boxes, so it made sense for the text to be on the smaller side.

This panel had both a "Hey, Grade Schoolers!" (dark blue) and a Space Geek Fact (light blue).

Besides information panels, any modern museum exhibit would be incomplete without many interactive elements, especially if that exhibit is designed to be inclusive to kids. The Atlantis exhibit had plenty of these elements, from touch screens with information about specific Space Shuttle missions to round enclosures that detect the motions of people’s arms so they can practice performing spacewalks on a screen. This latter interactive element drew long lines of children, more so than any other part of the exhibit.

A zoomed-out view of part of the Atlantis exhibit.

All this is just what I observed about the top floor of the exhibit. The main thing I noticed about the bottom floor was that it increased the amount of interactive elements compared to the top floor. I think this makes a lot of sense, since many people be getting bored by the time they reach the bottom, and will only be interested in interactive and visually-stimulating exhibit pieces. The bottom floor also leads you to a Space Shuttle simulator. Like any thorough researcher, I decided to try out the simulator myself. It was a really cool experience; they strap you to a chair in a moving room with about twenty other people, and then flip the whole room up and down to simulate a Space Shuttle launch. So, overall, the bottom floor continued the trend of trying to induce awe and excitement towards the Shuttle Program.

I enjoyed the time I spent analyzing the exhibit; I learned a lot about NASA's approach to science communication. Then, yesterday, I attended lunch with an astronaut. Astronaut lunches are hosted almost every day at the Visitor Complex (for an added fee), with the specific astronaut switching out every few days. On the 22nd, it was Marcos Pontes, Brazil’s first ever astronaut. I wasn’t sure at first how many tickets are sold to each lunch; I knew it wasn’t a one-on-one thing, but I thought maybe I would be in a conference room with about 50 other people. In reality, the event was held in a dining hall with over 200 people in attendance, mostly families with young kids. So, while it was a pretty impersonal event, I’m still glad I went, as I got the chance to examine yet another aspect of how NASA interacts with the public.

A small part of Pontes' lunchtime presentation.

Pontes was an interesting speaker. He talked about his youth in Brazil, and how other kids told him that only the wealthy can become pilots, but his mother encouraged him nonetheless — the sort of stuff you’d expect to hear in an astronaut biopic. He encouraged all the young people in the room to work hard and follow their dreams, which is obviously a bit of a cliche, but I felt that he meant it. He then spoke for a while about life in space, from eating, to sleeping, to going to the bathroom. At the end, there was time for about six or seven questions. The moderator primarily called on the young kids, as I would have. The kids mostly asked Pontes more specifics about daily life in space; one asked, “Is there bread in space?” and another inquired, “Do you live in space?”

The event concluded with a line to take photographs with Pontes. I got one, and it turned out nicely. I said “Obrigado” on my way out (which is about the full extent of my Portuguese), to which Pontes responded “De nada.”

Me and Marcos.

Today, I’m taking some time to prepare for my interview with docent Bob Granath tomorrow. I was just reading the latest Time magazine cover story about the new “Space Race” between various nations and private space companies. It’s a fascinating article, and I look forward to asking Bob his thoughts. Unfortunately, things aren’t looking good for the launch scheduled for tomorrow, as there’s likely to be a thunderstorm. But maybe some good luck will come through — I’ll keep hoping!

Daniel's Trip to NASA, Part 1

Hello, everyone! My name’s Daniel, and I’m using my Rosenkrantz Grant to visit the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) on Merritt Island, Florida! I’ve always been fascinated by NASA and its history, and this summer is the perfect time to visit the KSC, because July 20th marks the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11’s safe landing on the moon. While the KSC is a great place to learn about NASA’s history, I’m particularly interested in where NASA is heading in the future, and how they communicate their vision to the general public.

I arrived in Orlando, Florida a couple days ago (after multiple delays to my flight). From Orlando, it’s a 40-minute drive to my hotel in Titusville. Then, it’s another 25 minutes to reach the KSC Visitor Complex. Driving into the Complex, the first thing you notice is a giant Space Shuttle rocket peeking out above the buildings.

Like most things at the Visitor Complex, this turned out to just be a replica of the real thing.

Entering the Complex, I had to first pose for my photo to be taken so they could print out my Multiday Admission Pass. Receiving the lanyard and my pass felt very official — I suppose NASA wants each of its visitors to feel like a Guest of Honor. Then, upon walking into the Complex, you’re greeted by the “Rocket Garden,” a set of eight rockets from the 1960s stood on display.

These were, in fact, real rockets, but they were never actually used.

I then spent the rest of that initial visit to the Visitor Complex at the Space Shuttle Atlantis exhibit, which is one of the newest (and most expensive) additions to the Visitor Complex. Now, before my trip to Florida, I didn’t care much about the Space Shuttle program. All my interest in NASA was related to the Moon landings of the past and the (planned) Mars landings of the future, with the Space Shuttle era seeming like a bit of a waste of time. But that opinion changed when I saw this exhibit. It begins with an introductory video about the Shuttle program, describing the ingenuity that led to designing a spacecraft that launches like a rocket and lands like an airplane. Then, when the video concluded, the screen lifted up to reveal the main exhibit, which has the real Space Shuttle Atlantis hanging from the ceiling.

This thing flew into space on 33 missions, its final one being in 2011.

This big reveal did induce a sense of awe towards the Space Shuttle program, especially because this was one of the few objects at the KSC which is not a replica, but the real deal. I was also stunned by the size of the Atlantis, as I know how much thrust is required to get even a small payload into space. Designing an awe-inducing exhibit was certainly NASA’s intention. The agency is probably well-aware that the Shuttle era is not particularly interesting to most Americans, but if a single exhibit can help to change that belief, that’s a big win for NASA. The agency wants as many people as possible to be interested and enthusiastic about its programs, as this public excitement will pressure the federal government into giving NASA a larger budget. A lack of public enthusiasm was one of the reasons for NASA’s budget decline which forced the agency to retire the Space Shuttle program in 2011.

I spent my second day at the KSC exploring the Visitor Complex, acquainting myself with the various exhibits on display. I began at an exhibit called Journey to Mars: Explorers Wanted. This exhibit was targeted towards grade- and middle-schoolers, and it laid out the basic facts about what a mission to Mars would entail. It did so in a very visual way, with interactive games and full-scale Mars rover replicas, so it was clearly designed to hold the attention of younger kids. In fact, every half hour, a man at the center of the exhibit would give a presentation on the types of jobs that exist at NASA. Each time, this presentation concluded with a cheesy video showing a group of kids coordinating a rocket launch. In a very obvious way, this was meant to demonstrate that children are the future of NASA, and that they are especially needed for the Mars missions planned for the 2030s. However, this does contradict a statistic I saw in a later exhibit, which stated that the average age of the modern NASA astronaut is an elderly 48 years old (versus 39 years old in the 1960s). Despite what it claims, NASA seems to prefer seasoned veterans over fresh youth.

I didn't realize the Curiosity rover was that big.

Yesterday, I also returned to the Space Shuttle Atlantis exhibit, this time focusing on the bottom floor. What intrigued me the most was a section memorializing those who died in the Challenger and Columbia disasters. I had wondered how NASA would handle discussing these accidents, especially when so much of the Visitor Complex is oriented towards children. The disasters were ignored in the film about the Shuttle program that plays at the beginning of the Atlantis exhibit; this memorial is one of the few instances in the Complex where the accidents are directly addressed. I found the memorial to be a tasteful one. Personal objects of each of the seven Challenger passengers line one side of a hallway, while items from the passengers of the Columbia line the other side. From Ronald McNair’s black belt to Kalpana Chalwa’s bird-watching binoculars, these items allow you to feel a personal connection to each of the fourteen people who gave their lives for the Space Shuttle program. At the end of the hall, you can also see pieces of the wreckage of the Challenger and Columbia shuttles.

A surprisingly eloquent quote from George W. Bush, in response to the 2003 Columbia disaster.

The final main exhibit I explored yesterday was Heroes and Legends. This is actually the first exhibit you see when you walk through the gates to the Visitor Complex. Inside, the exhibit begins with dozens of children and astronauts answering the question “Who is your hero?” While the video shows that there’s no right answer to this question, the exhibit goes on to suggest (through additional videos and exhibit pieces) that astronauts are, objectively, heroes. I think this idea is worthy of debate, but it doesn’t surprise me that NASA would want to make this argument, as portraying astronauts as “heroes” and “legends” is very helpful for the agency to build up its brand. With thousands of people working for NASA, it’s helpful to allow the public to associate specific individual “heroes” (Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin) with the agency itself. These well-known astronauts are, essentially, the mascots of NASA — and any good organization needs an easily-recognizable mascot.

Does standing with these guys make me a hero by association?

Then, today, I ventured out of the Visitor Complex on a bus tour in order to explore more of the Kennedy Space Complex. The tour passed by NASA’s old headquarters (which had very few glass windows, to prevent against Soviet spying) and then its nearby new headquarters (which was almost entirely made of glass). It also took us past the massive Vehicle Assembly Building, which is where rockets are pieced together. It’s a beautiful building, and I got a couple Facebook-worthy photos out in front of it.

It's even bigger than it looks in this photo.

Then, we went to Launchpad 39A, which is where many Apollo missions launched from, including Apollo 11. Surprisingly, it’s now owned and operated by SpaceX, and was completely remodeled recently. To me, this is a big testament to the fact that NASA’s glory days are behind it. As it stands, NASA does not have the capability to launch anything into space. American astronauts are launched on Russian rockets, while American goods are launched by private companies like Boeing and SpaceX. The fact that SpaceX has completely taken over NASA’s most historic launchpad represents the fact that the old era of public spaceflight may be ending, and a new era of private spaceflight is taking over.

I'm hoping to make a YouTube video on NASA's future with some of the footage from my trip.

The tour ended in the Apollo/Saturn V Center, which houses a massive Saturn V rocket. The Saturn V is the biggest type of rocket NASA has ever built (so far), and was used to get humans to the Moon. This center also has interesting exhibits on the Moon landings, including replicas of the Lunar Lander and the Lunar Roving Vehicle. I found it interesting that this building, dedicated to the Moon missions, is separated from the rest of the Visitor Complex by a couple miles, when the Moon landings are what the public is generally most interested in. The layout of the Visitor Complex seems to suggest that NASA is more interested in displaying its recent history (the Space Shuttle program) and its future (the missions to Mars) rather than its distant past.

The Saturn V is too big to photograph, so here's just the back part of it.

I’ve had an awesome trip so far. Over the next few days, I hope to do a closer analysis of a couple specific exhibits in the Visitor Complex. I’ll also interview some of the people who work here about how NASA communicates its mission to an average person. And, if all goes right, I’ll be seeing a SpaceX Falcon 9 launch on the 24th. It was already delayed from the 21st, so send good wishes that it doesn’t get delayed again!