CLASS NOTES The Dream Is Alive
	By Rick Steinhaus '82 "Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . ignition sequence . . . two . . . one . . . liftoff of the shuttle Discovery with a crew of six astronauts and one American legend." These were the carefully selected words of NASA launch commentator Lisa Malone. To be there in person, witnessing the explosive launch off Kennedy Space Center pad 39-B, is truly the experience of a lifetime. Television does not do it justice. My brother Peter (TV-R ’78) is the reason I’m at the Kennedy Space Center for the biggest media blitz in NASA history. Thousands of journalists and spectators from around the world have flocked to the Space Coast to witness the historic return of John Glenn to space. Peter is covering the launch as an anchor/reporter for CBS Radio News. It’s his 13th mission in the "hot seat" at the CBS Broadcast Center. But this time he’s got a lot of company. We’re among Brokaw, Rather, and countless others who are here to watch the 92nd shuttle mission. I am really here just as a spectator. But for my older brother this will be one of the longest and most gratifying days of 20-plus years as a broadcaster. For Peter the day began at 3:45 a.m. His 50-minute drive through the darkness to the KSC took two to three times longer this morning because of traffic congestion. His reports lead the 6:00 and 7:00 a.m. CBS newscasts, as John Glenn’s launch is the biggest news story for this Thursday, October 29. All the media people I speak with today acknowledge the importance of a "good news" story for the country, and this most certainly is it. Security around the Cape is extremely tight. After picking up my press credentials, I clear various checkpoints and arrive at the press area at 8:45 a.m., a good five hours before launch time. Legends galore: Peter Steinhaus and his fiancée, Rebecca Rourk, with Walter Cronkite.   Peter Steinhaus with CBS News correspondent Christopher Glenn. It’s hard to believe I’m here. I have vivid memories of my family huddled around our old color TV watching the story of Apollo 11 unfold. Peter was the consummate space junkie. This kid knew everything about the space program. He even set up a tripod and 35 mm camera in front of the TV, so he could take snapshots — which he subsequently had enlarged and sent to the astronauts for autographs. To my amazement, they came back, signed! It’s about noon now. The weather is perfect. The media folks are in a frenzy. I’m standing on the roof of the CBS broadcast center, which sounds more impressive than it is. All the networks have built these three-story shacks to house their TV and radio people. The view of the launch is unequaled from this site. Ten feet from me, on the NBC roof, Matt Lauer is grabbing a quick sandwich between his segments on MSNBC. Peter will have no such respite until much later. I get him a candy bar and a soda from the NASA snack wagon. At this point, he’s running on adrenaline. At 1:30 I make my way down from the roof and out along the shoreline, right next to the big digital countdown clock that all the TV feeds are showing. Anticipation is mounting. Technological Crazy-Quilt After a built-in "hold" in the countdown at T-minus-9-minutes, the countdown resumes, only to be held again. The working media — CBS, NBC, Fox, et al. — are a good 300 yards behind us. The thousands of us who have ventured to the shoreline are just enough within range to hear the launch announcements from Lisa Malone. By cell phone I’m in touch with my wife, who’s home in New York, watching on TV. She’s 1,100 miles away but actually has a better handle on why the launch is delayed. Get this: I’m 1,000 feet from Walter Cronkite, who’s beaming his broadcast up to a satellite, which beams down to the TV in our living room on West 57th Street, where my wife gets the up-to-the minute info, beams it back off another satellite to me via cell phone. I’m amused by the irony, humbled by the technology. The count-down resumes, only to be held again at T-minus 1:30. There’s a report of unauthorized air traffic in the shuttle launch path, probably sightseers. Once the airspace is cleared, the final 1:30 ticks off quickly. It takes seconds for the roar of Discovery’s engines to reach us, and there’s no mistaking it. The plumes of steam and smoke, the bright fire of the rockets’ afterburners against a deep blue sky — it moves you, both physically and emotionally. I was a junior TV-R major at IC when the first shuttle mission lifted off in the spring of ’81. Back then we all gathered around the TV in Terrace 4-B to watch the first post–Apollo era launch. Of course, since then shuttle launches and landings have become so commonplace (Challenger notwithstanding) that we often overlook the wonder and beauty of this achievement. But for Peter, who has embraced each launch with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning, John Glenn’s return to space was more than historic; it was a chance to fulfill a childhood fantasy. "I think I've got the best job in the world," he tells me, "but on days like this, it’s even better. I always love being in the middle of a big story, but this one is just a little more special. I was almost six years old when Glenn flew the first time, and I have some memories of that day. But the memories from this one will be vivid. I’ll always be glad I covered it." And Discovery lifted off "with a crew of six astronaut heroes and one American legend" . . . and the dreams of two IC graduates — one who got to broadcast it to America, the other who got to tag along for the ride.  Rick Steinhaus is an on-air personality at 106.7 Lite FM in New York; his on-air name is Rick Sommers. He also writes freelance for a hockey magazine, does voice-over work, and performs as a stand-up comic. Peter Steinhaus uses the profes-sional name Peter King.