January 28, 1986.
It was a Tuesday . . . just like this year.
I was eight.
I was a second-grade student at Douglass Park Elementary watching a historical moment. The first space mission with a civilian onboard.
A school teacher.
Someone I could see on a regular basis became an astronaut, heading to the stars, going to a place many of us have dreamed of, like myself. Dreamers that have their eyes to the skies, wondering what's out there and if they're looking back at us. Anyway, the crew of the Challenger was preparing for a regular routine space mission. Moments after lifting off, disaster happened right in front of my eight-year-old eyes.
This past Saturday, I turned eight years old again, witnessing yet another space tragedy. When I saw the NASA warning, I kind of cringed about what happened. Was there a fuel shortage and the crew of the Columbia couldn't make it home? Was there oxygen deprevation? When I saw the bright, cometlike streak of light come across my television set, a cold chill hit me.
"Not again."
The Columbia completed yet another routine mission. Unfortunately, the crew didn't make it back home.
McCool.
Husband.
Anderson.
Brown.
Chawla.
Clark.
Ramon.
The first Israeli in space. The first Indian in space. Five Americans.
All gone. In a bright streak of light, the crew of the Columbia were gone, never coming home, never touching terra firma again.
Space travel is always filled with dangers and risks. Cartoons and movies are testament to that. But these guys and gals knew the risks and faced them head on with bravery, valor, and honor. These lost astronauts are now treated as heroes around the world, from Israel and India to Florida and Texas to the homestates of many of the Americans, like my homestate, where Dr. David Brown came from. His connection to my area affected the mindset of just about everybody here, from Eastern Virginia Medical School just across the Elizabeth to William and Mary, where he recently gave the commencement address.
At this time, I'm at a loss for words. I have nothing witty to say, because this isn't the time for humor. I have nothing wise to say, because there's nothing I could say to reflect on this sad event. All I can say is goodbye to the brave crew of the Columbia. They have already been to the stars, now they're heading towards the heavens.
Jeff Harris
CNX Creator/Webmaster
February 3, 2003
