A Sad Day

Today is a sad day for the world, and especially the U.S. and Israel. The loss of the Shuttle Columbia is a tragedy that will have repercussions for the entire space program, and for the history of mankind. Thinking of this loss I am immediately brought back to a time in Elementary School on Jan. 28, 1986. On that day while playing at recess a classmate told me that the Challenger had exploded on liftoff. I thought that it was a sick joke. I denied that it was even a possibility. To me at that time, the Space Shuttle was invincible. At that time (and for years after) I wanted to be an astronaut. For the entire day, even after seeing the footage of the shuttle breaking apart in a fireball of fuel, I denied that it could happen. For another day, I held out hope that Christie McAuliffe and her crewmates were still alive. Eventually I was able to come to terms with the facts of the dissaster. While many of my classmates dealt with the tragedy by telling off color jokes, I was unable to laugh. I can still remember many of these jokes, but to this day I can not find them even the slightest bit funny.

So now, listening to coverage on NPR of the disaster, I realize how much I have grown and how much I am the same. I now can accept that this has happened immediately, and that the crew of the shuttle is dead. For years I have given up my dream of being an astronaut and settled down to more realistic job aspirations. But I still feel the same weight on my chest. I still feel the pain when I look at the faces of the astronauts walking toward their doomed shuttle. I still am deeply connected to the space program in a totally personal way.