"T-minus... - Mim memory

Mim & I had bid our parents farewell, nipped past Philadelphia Wilmington Baltimore, skirted past D.C., spent our first night "south of Richmond," slogged through what felt like the interminable Carolinas, swapped Georgia march monster stories, felt a thrill seeing "Welcome to Florida!" amid a grove of palm trees, wandered around super old St. Augustine, drove down Daytona Beach, walked a post-dawn shoreline, heard the roar of three fighter jets, met a fellow Pennsylvanian who befriended & fed us & showed us the road to a great vantage point for seeing the launch, had been parked for hours with a fabulous view of the Apollo 12 - we had done ALL of that, but none of it really registerd until we heard the "voice of Mission Control" say, "We have T-minus 10 minutes & counting."

When we heard that on the radios playing all around us, all eyes turned toward the launch pad.  People spoke quietly to each other, but the frisbees were put down, dogs went back on leashes, children were called to parents, couples held hands or drapped an arm around the other.  

Not exactly our view - add at least a mile!

As the minutes were counted off, the excitement rose.  

I don't remember who first noticed the dark grey clouds massing to the north of the launch pad.  None of us knew a cool, misty rain was falling at the launch site.  Down range, there were some clouds overhead, but patches of blue sky, too.  The possibility they might delay the launch for weather never occurred to us - not on the long drive down, not even now.

And the count kept winding down.  When it hit 5 minutes, people were pacing with excitement, but everything & everyone went silent when it hit "T-minus one minute & counting..."  All faces were trained on the slim white rocket, that looked almost surreal against the grey clouds behind & above it.

"T-minus 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...  We have ignition... we have lift off."