#35 - Our Challenger
The news came over the radio. The space shuttle Challenger just exploded, taking with it all seven astronauts. It was a heavy blow to the heart and a kick in the guts. That great heaving rocket effectively evaporated on its way to the heavens.
From its beginning, I have been a faithful follower of the American Space Program, which, in its quest to explore the greatest of unknowns, has thrilled and inspired virtually all of the truest adventurers in the world. The cost in human, material and financial resources has been enormous and oftentimes difficult to justify to the less adventurous and those more preoccupied with earthly concerns. Yet somehow we have always managed to come up with whatever it takes, and in just a few short years, we have already nearly reached the outer limits of our solar system.
That we have gone so far so fast, I think, is a manifestation of the boundless human mind’s insatiable thirst for knowledge, its desperate need to know everything and to know it now within the puny little time span allotted to us. We'll never reach the end of it all, but will never stop trying.
The news of that awful, awful accident stunned all of us to the core. It stunned the friends of America everywhere and, I dare say, stunned the ever-reaching family of mankind in total. For a time, there will be talk about the price we are paying, whether it's worth it and whether or not we should reconsider the whole business of space. The media, as they are wont to do, have felt duty-bound to report every riveting image in full color detail, from the spectacular explosion of the hurtling spacecraft to the sad and private torment of the astronauts’ families. This again is another manifestation of our need to know and to witness, but "the news" in this instance has played an unfortunate role in driving the whole matter of this accident into the ground, comparing its impact to that of presidential assassinations and the bombing of Pearl Harbor, questioning the wisdom of our manned space program and, indeed, whether this one regrettable experience might even jeopardize the whole future of the greatest adventure we ever set out upon.
God knows, the American spirit is no stranger to dangerous challenges. In fact, our most magnificent achievements have nearly always been measured in terms of seemingly insurmountable obstacles that often go hand in hand with the unknown. It is our nature.
Space is no different. It is an infinity of unknown obstacles and is a damned dangerous place to go. As my neighbor (a man who seen his share of hairy situations) put it, "That kind of danger goes with the territory. Sometimes I think the cautionary element of society would have us all living in a cotton lined box!” His remark was not a cold-blooded aside; it was his passionate utterance of how he views a plain and simple truth.
Rather than falling away from this widely witnessed spaceship explosion in hopeless despair, I feel we should and will soon rebound from this one day’s painful setback with a renewed determination to “get right back on the horse.” The challenge is too tantalizing to let it die.
As for the astronauts lost, some positive things can be said. They are not likely to have suffered or known a moment of dread. In the instant of that sudden and catastrophic event, they were, first, extremely busy and for the most part would certainly have been at the very zenith of human emotions in the realization their career aspirations. Each knew exactly what he or she was doing, accepted the risks involved and thrilled at the chance to go. They were the chosen few and were well aware of it.
And so were we all. Their deaths drew the focus of America and the world to them and their story, with sadness it is true, but not under the evil shroud of an assassination or an act of war. It was rather a welling up with tears and national pride. They were on their way to the outer limits for adventure and knowledge. We sent them there, and they took us with them.