The Space Program's Week of Sorrow

There's been a lot of press and social network attention paid to today's thirtieth anniversary of the explosion during liftoff of the Challenger, which killed all seven aboard (I'm horrified to read that they were not killed instantly, as originally reported, but likely survived several minutes until they hit the water). I'm reminded by friends of mine who are great space enthusiasts that the three tragedies that have befallen the U.S. space program--the Challenger, the fire that killed the three astronauts of Apollo 1 in 1967, and the disintegration of the Columbia in 2003, all amazingly happened within five days on the calendar. Truly, this is a week of sorrow for NASA.

I'm too young to remember Apollo 1, though my friend Bob, three days older than I am, remembers that The Flintstones was pre-empted with the news. An electrical fire, and the malfunction of an escape door, led to three men dying horrible deaths. One of the men was Gus Grissom, who was one of the original Gemini astronauts.

I certainly remember the Challenger, and today everyone old enough is having one of those "where were you" moments, especially those who were kids at the time, because of Christa McAuliffe, the teacher on board. Shuttle launches were not big news by then, but this one was, and many students watched on TVs at their schools. I was working as a copy editor at a publisher of legal books. I don't know how she knew--we were allowed to listen to radios there, that must have been it--but my co-worker Judy told me what had happened. It seems weird to say this, but in the absence of the Internet and smartphones you couldn't get news that quickly. I must have put on my Walk-man, and then I called Bob, who was my roommate at the time and a law student. "Turn on the TV," I told him.

There was a lot of talk of O-rings, and Ronald Reagan, the "Great Communicator," actually did a nice job of being consoler-in-chief. I recall that his aides came into the Oval Office and told him what had happened. "Isn't that the one with the teacher?" he asked, and regardless of politics, I feel for what the man had to go through. I also feel for those who watched the thing happen live, whether on TV or in person. The latter included McAuliffe's parents, who were being filmed, their puzzled reactions as they saw the bull-horned shape smoke cloud above them, knowing their daughter was dead.

The Columbia happened, if I recall correctly, on a Saturday morning, February 1, 2003. I was watching TV, and the news broke. Once again I called Bob, and got his wife, and broke the news (I also called to inform Bob about 9/11. He must cringe a bit whenever I call him). This crash was caused by insulation breaking off and tearing a hole in the wing during liftoff. On re-entry, the wing couldn't withstand the heat and the ship broke apart over Texas. My brother-in-law, a pilot, actually saw what happened from his plane that day.

These three tragedies cost 17 lives, but in the long run, their lives were not lost in vain, as it is essential for our species that we continue to explore space. We have a space station, but money and logistics have kept us from further human exploration. One day the Earth will cease to be. Man be long extinct by then anyway, but whatever animal or vegetable is dominant will have to leave the planet or perish.

The bravery of anyone who straps themselves on top of a rocket and is hurtled out of the atmosphere is incredibly brave, as anything can go wrong and there's little recourse for rescue. During this week, it's a good thing to honor those who died in the pursuit of knowledge.