On this date, forty-seven years ago, from the windy steppes of Kazakhstan, a missile, originally designed to deliver a deadly warhead, sundered the skies. But its payload was not a bomb, but a basketball-sized sphere of metal with transponders. Its destination was not another territory on earth, but the semi-permanent freefall of outer space. It was the first object since the dawn of time, crafted by humans, to enter orbit around our planet. It was the beginning of the space age.

As I write these words, it’s still dark in Mojave, California. If it’s a typical night there, the winds are high, even howling, rattling the rafters of the airport hangars, many of which were built years before that first satellite launch. But in an hour or so, the rising sun will slowly illuminate the desert, and the winds will die down. A crowd will be gathered to watch an ungainly-looking aircraft, resembling mating birds or insects, as it taxis out to challenge the heavens for the second time within less than a week.

If today’s flight is successful, and the prize is won, many may look back on this anniversary as a dual one. October 4th will not only be commemorated as the day that the old space age began, but perhaps, the new one as well.