The Day the Space Program Died...

Ok, maybe not entirely, but I had a Don McLean refrain pop into my head when I was coming up with a title...

I saw blurbs and articles this morning that made me go, "Really... it's been 25 years since the Challenger?" (For those so inclined, YouTube has plenty of clips available...)

For those to young to remember, the Challenger was to a generation of youth our equvalent of Kennedy's assassination or 9/11 (long before that same generation lived through 9/11). We were raised in a decade where space was just starting to be utilized, and the space program was being promoted in all sorts of ways (like SpaceCamp). But what really struck home for us was that one of the members of the crew was a teacher.

Here's why that mattered: A current teacher going into space (for a special program) was a big deal, so schools all over the country were tuning in - holding assemblies in gymnasiums, etc. - to watch the launch live. LIVE!

We were all a-titter, sitting at our desks or on gym floors, some excited by the shuttle launch, others just by the fact there was a momentary reprieve from regular classwork. The countdown began, and soon we all staring, transfixed by the smoke as the rockets prepared for take-off. Then the roar and raw power of the red flame pushing the shuttle higher, higher, until (thanks to a faulty O-ring as reports would later suggest) we watched the vessel and her crew pushed to infinity.

We left our gyms and classrooms in silence; awkward attempts were made to carry on with the day. When I got home from school that afternoon, I remember Peter Jennings on ABC anchoring continuing coverage of the aftermath (remember, this was in the time before there were dozens of 24-hour news channels).

Twenty-five years later, it's something that still stings, and is still clearly burned into memory, and I think Reagan handled it well enough to keep his speech around.