[From the first mission of Columbia, to the loss of Challenger, to the loss of Columbia, I hope for a coming human view from space (and not only to benefit wealthy tourists).]
January 28, 2011:
Twenty-five years ago, I stepped out of my family's house in Ormond Beach, Florida (just north of Daytona Beach), to watch a space shuttle blast into Earth orbit. In the five years prior to 1986, on occasion I was among many classmates, teachers and staff, who stepped out from junior high and high school buildings to see shuttles draw their curved white lines into space. But that day 25 years ago, I saw a damnable thing: the bright, expanding cloud from the initial explosion of the shuttle Challenger. It seemed at first to be a blossoming white cloud of exhaust, from my perspective, but that appearance grew less probable in moments.
I knew what that white cloud truly meant when I returned to the TV inside. That bulging cloud showed some leery orange, too, and from it, the pair of external booster rockets went flailing about, alone and confused, suddenly without purpose, burning through their fuel.
It was a stunning realization that the shuttle was gone, with her crew of seven, including a first, a schoolteacher. She had become as famous as any pop star by the time of the launch.
President Ronald Reagan was supposed to give the annual State of the Union address that evening, at the U.S. Capitol; instead, he spoke about the tragedy, giving a respectful, memorable speech that was broadcast live from the White House.
Another space shuttle did not launch for more than two years after the tragedy.
Years later, as if fate were mocking man's striving for the stars as well as our attention to anniversaries, just days after the 17th anniversary of the Challenger disaster, the shuttle Columbia crew perished in 2003, as their craft was returning them from orbit.
I, with my wife, was in the midst of an 800-mile move from Tennessee to South Florida that late January. I saw images of a shuttle, and its breaking up, on the muted TV in our hotel room, and thought, for a moment, that it was a news piece remembering the Challenger disaster. My wife commented that she believed it was past the anniversary, and, thinking she was correct, I turned up the volume on the TV.
The shuttle Columbia -- the first orbiter to launch into space in the early 1980s -- and her crew were lost after reentering Earth's atmosphere. Reentry has always been one of the most rigorous tests of engineering, from structural to flight. It was not long before they would have touched down safely at Cape Canaveral, but instead, wreckage was discovered for miles along the tragic, final path of NASA's Columbia orbiter. Among the crew on that mission was a first as well, scientist who was the first-ever astronaut from his home country, that of Israel.
This year marks eight years since the Columbia tragedy. It occurred little more than 16 months after September 11th stunned the country (and the world), and months before we invaded Iraq as part of our response to that attack on innocent citizens.
Despite these tragedies -- and as astronauts would insist -- I think we deserve to see a plan for the coming decades, for NASA to plot a path into space, that's as enthralling as the 1960s-70s moon landings. Putting up satellites and developing a space station are terrific things, and so is space tourism, but I think we're gaining nothing from our national, or international, space expenses, if not for the awesome spectacle of man conquering our solar system, and challenging the grandest of nature's unforgiving realities.
Otherwise, we might as well all just be something far less than we ought to aspire to be, or inspire others toward. It should not be a burden, but human space exploration ought to be a priority, to see what's out there, humanizing the experience of space travel.
- Jon O