On NASA's Day of Rememberance
I almost didn't go to see the talk. I had a lot of work to do, and an overview of microgravity experiments on the shuttle wasn't of much interest to me, but it was my chance to meet an astronaut, so I decided to go.
She was enthusiastic, looking forward to a shuttle science mission after so many space station missions. I had never been a great fan of the manned space program, the high cost and dangers associated with sending people into space had never seemed to be outweighed by the scientific benefits, but I understood the symbolism of being able to send people into such a harsh environment. It was a symbol of our ability to do the impossible, to conquer space, and to achieve great things. The astronaut's enthusiasm was contagious, and she did a good job winning over a fairly skeptical group of scientists. I didn't talk to her after the talk, but I was happy to have seen an astronaut and excited about a dedicated science mission for the shuttle.
I was only vaguely aware that the mission had launched when it did. I remember seeing an article about it somewhere and thinking that the astronaut I met was now in space, but I soon was engrossed in other things. I recall lying in bed days later, listening to NPR and drowsing. It was the weekend, cold, and I had nowhere to go. At a regular news update they mentioned that the shuttle was overdue for landing. I knew the shuttle couldn't circle around to make a second approach, or cruise around in the atmosphere. I knew something had gone horribly wrong. For a moment I wondered again, is this the shuttle with that astronaut I met? I turned on the television and waited and soon my fears were confirmed. The enthusiastic astronaut I had seen was dead.
I sometimes wonder what she thought as the shuttle ripped apart. Was she even aware of it? I imagine that she was probably feeling relieved that her mission was over, that it had been successful, and even somewhat sad that her time in space was over as the shuttle began its reentry. I imagine that she may have been anxious as sensors began giving out, and as the ship itself began to break apart. I also imagine in those moments before she died she thought about the future astronauts and what this tragedy might mean to the manned space program. Her thoughts might have also touched on the implications for future science missions on the shuttle.
I didn't know this astronaut well at all. My own view is that the dangers and risks far outweigh the benefits of sending men and women into space, but I imagine that she would disagree even now. I do know that when trying to do the impossible, people get hurt. As we move forward we should remember that there is danger associated with each new achievement and temper our strides with this knowledge. We need to remember those who died to help us achieve what we already have, and it is our responsibility to make sure their sacrifices were not in vain, but tragic steps on the road to making the impossile visions of the future the realities of today.
She was enthusiastic, looking forward to a shuttle science mission after so many space station missions. I had never been a great fan of the manned space program, the high cost and dangers associated with sending people into space had never seemed to be outweighed by the scientific benefits, but I understood the symbolism of being able to send people into such a harsh environment. It was a symbol of our ability to do the impossible, to conquer space, and to achieve great things. The astronaut's enthusiasm was contagious, and she did a good job winning over a fairly skeptical group of scientists. I didn't talk to her after the talk, but I was happy to have seen an astronaut and excited about a dedicated science mission for the shuttle.
I was only vaguely aware that the mission had launched when it did. I remember seeing an article about it somewhere and thinking that the astronaut I met was now in space, but I soon was engrossed in other things. I recall lying in bed days later, listening to NPR and drowsing. It was the weekend, cold, and I had nowhere to go. At a regular news update they mentioned that the shuttle was overdue for landing. I knew the shuttle couldn't circle around to make a second approach, or cruise around in the atmosphere. I knew something had gone horribly wrong. For a moment I wondered again, is this the shuttle with that astronaut I met? I turned on the television and waited and soon my fears were confirmed. The enthusiastic astronaut I had seen was dead.
I sometimes wonder what she thought as the shuttle ripped apart. Was she even aware of it? I imagine that she was probably feeling relieved that her mission was over, that it had been successful, and even somewhat sad that her time in space was over as the shuttle began its reentry. I imagine that she may have been anxious as sensors began giving out, and as the ship itself began to break apart. I also imagine in those moments before she died she thought about the future astronauts and what this tragedy might mean to the manned space program. Her thoughts might have also touched on the implications for future science missions on the shuttle.
I didn't know this astronaut well at all. My own view is that the dangers and risks far outweigh the benefits of sending men and women into space, but I imagine that she would disagree even now. I do know that when trying to do the impossible, people get hurt. As we move forward we should remember that there is danger associated with each new achievement and temper our strides with this knowledge. We need to remember those who died to help us achieve what we already have, and it is our responsibility to make sure their sacrifices were not in vain, but tragic steps on the road to making the impossile visions of the future the realities of today.