t-keela, what can I say but “oh man”? What a thing for you to have witnessed. I hope you’re ok.
I appreciate the concern mate, man I had to console some folks today that were in shock. This little boy, about 10yrs/old was home alone and a piece hit the field next to his house. His parents were across the road (closeby anyway)
his words:He was out playing in this pasture and all of a sudden there was a like a loud noise and the next thing he knew the pasture just “lit up”…[the wind was blowing pretty good by then]
The kid took off his t-shirt and fought the blaze until he realized there was no way he could put it out. When I got there he was burned from his waist to his forehead [like a BAD sunburn]
The fire dept. couldn’t get to it, they’ve been busy ALL DAY all this kid could think of was their new house…he was in tears and hyperventilating.
My brother and I grabbed a rake and cut some green pine tops and whipped out about 6-7 acres of tall dry coastal. Wore our asses out but we got it out before it could get away. About the time we got it out the fire dept. showed up.
That was the second fire of the day for me. Although I did see several others, at one time I heard there were several dozen fires in the local area at one time.
Brother and I walked outta that bottom and the kid looked at us and we at him…he was looking a lot better. He said thanks and I replied back don’t worry 'bout it. Just holler if you need anything.
Me and brother went back to where we had just finished putting out an earlier fire this morning.
and g-nite to all…let there be Peace in the morning.
A few random thoughts… I grew up about 8 miles away from mission control. (Johnson Space Center) It is actually located about 25 miles south of downtown Houston in what was Clear Lake City. This is on Galveston Bay, midway between Houston and Galveston. (Later annexed by the city of Houston)
I lived there from 1965, age of 6, until 1992. My dad was a subcontractor (through Soutwestern Bell) at NASA. We never called it Mission Control, just nasa. In the 60’/70’s the space program was the ultimate thing down there. Hell, everybody I knew it seemed, had a mom or dad, brother, sister etc working for nasa.
During elementary/jr high I probably visited nasa on class trips 15 or 20 times, and a bunch more out of school. In class, there was always a big tracking map in the wall, and we followed the missions.
It was great! Back then, you could just drive in, park, and walk all over the complex, except for mission control itself. We were really stoked during the Apollo program. My sister and I were young, but even at a tender age, you could sense the excitement and pride around the area.
Hell, when we first moved there, around the start of the Gemini program, mom and dad used to take us to a subdivision named Nassua Bay, where the astronauts lived, just to cruise around and maybe see an Astronaut. Many people did the same.
I was 10 at the time, and vividly remember when Neil and Buzz walked on the moon. The whole family gathered around the old black and white tv to watch. Everybody wanted to be an astronaut.
I guess we just felt people around us were making history, and because we lived there, and so many people worked for nasa, we felt a part of it.
Pardon my somewhat drunken ramblings… It is a sad day.
Er, that would be Nassau Bay.
I’m only just reading about this now. I was out all day and didn’t even glance at the TV.
Very sad day. My condolences to the families and friends of those killed.
When I was in 5th grade, our teacher announced to the class that the Challenger had exploded. We were stunned. I went home sick that day. To this day, everytime I see the footage, with the spark and the cloud of smoke, and that booster rocket scrolling across the sky like a lost puppy it feels like someone is sitting on my chest.
Today I had that feeling. I work graves, so I was asleep. My roomie woke me up and told me what had happened. He knew I would want to know. I popped on the TV and sat, stunned, watching fireballs drift across the sky and knowing that once again, our angels had fallen.
It took two and a half years before we launced a shuttle again after Challenger. I am praying and dreaming that tomorrow afternoon, Bush will come on television and tell everyone that a launch is going up in a week. Now is the time, now is when we need to get back on the horse, strap on our helmets and ride this beast until we’ve got it.
If you asked every astronaut, every cosmonaut, every NASA employee if we should stop, they would give you a resounding HELL NO.
Let us put our angels back in the sky.
A number of my childhood friends grew up with fathers as astronauts.
My dad was Payload Scientist for five Space Shuttle Missions (STS - 56, -64, -69, -87, and -95.)
I got up at 05.30 this morning._ Long day at work
ahead of me. I got the heads up about the landing from CNN as I was getting ready.
Aroung 08:40, I got the phone call._ A bit later, I
started posting and reading email via my cellphone.
Soon after, the sattellite feed (video and muzak) in
all Wal*Mart stores was switched over to CNN.
The flag at my store is on the roof, raised and
lowered by a small motor controlled by turning a key
in a junction box at ground level.__ It tooke a few
tries to get it to half-mast. I think some other
stuff happened, the whole day is a fog right now.
I’m keeping seven people I’d
never have thought of in my thoughts and prayers.
I don’t pray very often…
I watched the sunset today._
It was beautiful.
And I’m crying again.
I was busy yesterday, legitimately. Yesterday was a day my church held a day of services and workshops dedicated to fighting racism. It’s a project I’ve been involved in for the past several years. When Columbia exploded, I was sitting at a registration desk in the narthex, the lobby, of the church. It’s downtown, so I stayed there during the service. The church is Trinity Cathedral in downtown Pittsburgh, so there are homeless people who come in seeking shelter from the cold. I heard the Bishop say something about Columbia, but I was too far away and I couldn’t hear much. At lunch, I asked someone what had happened and he told me, but there were things to be done. I got home yesterday but I was exhausted and I knew I couldn’t deal with it, although I watched a bit of television and saw this thread and others. So help me, I wanted to have just a little more time before it became real.
Well, it’s Sunday morning. I’ve read about the tragedy in the newspaper, including the biographies of the astronauts and I’ve got CNN on. It’s real. I want to weep.
I was in high school when the Columbia first launched. It was such a fantastic dream, riding a column of fire to glory. We watched it in school, and it was such a marvelous thing to me, everything I dreamed of. It even cost me a friendship – my fascination with the space shuttle was one interest too many for a friend of mine. Still, I wondered if there’d be room for a poet on the shuttle.
In college, I became friends with a girl whose cousin made a trip on the space shuttle. At first, she was just this wierd person who was always sitting and waiting for us to open the cafeteria for breakfast on weekend mornings. One weekend she wasn’t there. The next weekend, we asked her, “Where were you?” “I was watching my cousin get shot into space.” “You are in space,” we replied. One thing led to another, and we wound up becoming good friends.
I was studying in Japan when the Challenger exploded. Like today, it didn’t seem real. I saw still photos in the international edition of Newsweek and I tried to wrap my mind around it. I remember hearing the poem Hodge posted and it resonated with me. I remember feeling a dream had died, and my shock when a week later I read that people back home were talking about discontinuing the space program. “They can’t!” I remember thinking. “If nothing else, I’ll go!” A year later, I saw film footage for the first time. It rattled me.
I haven’t seen film footage of Columbia’s explosion yet. I think I’m still processing the information. The people I would choose to mourn it with are several hundred miles away, moved or traveling. There’s also a Mensa RG near Indianapolis this weekend. It sounds like a great time, and I would have loved to have gone to it. It’s a weekend filled with good food, conversation, and fun, not to mention more geeks than you can shake a stick at. I wonder how they’re handling it, but I think I know. They’re also probably banding together and mourning, and information’s probably available on a constant basis for those who want it. Like I’ve told you, it’s a neat bunch of people.
Human remains have been found near Hemphill, Texas, and I’ve read about other scraps of fabric. On CNN, I’ve heard the relatives of those who died talk about them. I’ve also read the stories posted here. I thought 2003 would be better. I thought we could move beyond the tragedy of September 11th, and move on. Now, I’m not so sure.
I was busy yesterday, trying to change the world, trying to nudge it a little closer to the point where what matters is “not the color of a man’s skin, but the content of his character,” to misquote Martin Luther King, Jr. I’ve heard the biographies of the astronauts on CNN and seen their photos. I couldn’t help notice that of these seven people, one was an Israeli, one was black, and one was Indian, an naturalized citizen like me. All of them pursued and caught their dream. Perhaps, looking at this crew, we’re succeeding?
Rick Husband, Michael Anderson, David Brown, Kalpana Chawla, Laurel Clark, Willy McCool (talk about a name for a pilot!), Ilan Ramon, I salute you, and I thank you for chasing those dreams. I don’t know what your religions are, but still I ask that God watch over you, and keep you, and look after your families who are all too aware of your absence. I’m sure long after the news hit, some of them were still looking to the west, hoping that what they’d heard couldn’t possibly be true, and wishing that Columbia might somehow miraculously appear, battered, but intact. Isn’t that the way it happens in the movies? This isn’t the movies, and all I can do is mourn.
CJ
No, no shame on me. The fact that some Americans have come to have considerable distrust of their government is infintely more important that the unfortunate death of seven people who, in any event, were ready to give their lives for the space program. Upcoming victims of the war on Iraq are no willing to die.
UnuMondo
I got home from work yesterday morning, fired up the PC and flipped on NPR. My goal was to catch the last of the morning news as I filed my tax return on-line. My big worry was that my refund would be too small to pay my rent and property taxes this month. I heard the newscaster say that NASA was reporting they’d lost contact with Columbia. “Not really a big deal,” I thought. After all, communications are always pretty spotty as the shuttle comes down. Then I heard him say that the shuttle had broken up over Texas. I popped open another window and flashed over to the Dope looking for a thread. I panicked when I didn’t find one. I grabbed a link to the story on CNN and started this.
I think called a buddy to tell him the news. He and I had talked about going to see Columbia take-off. We didn’t go because I didn’t have the money. I figured he’d still be asleep and be pissed at being woken up. I also figured he’d be really pissed if I didn’t wake him up.
I let his phone ring about twenty times before I tried his cell phone. He didn’t answer that, so I left a message. After I hung up, he called, groggily and angrily he asked, “You called?”
“Yeah, the space shuttle just blew up.” I told him.
“What? No fuckin’ way!” It’s amazing how we can stumble around half-asleep most mornings of our lives and then suddenly snap to full alertnes when someone hands us bad news.
“Yeah, turn on the TV, it’s all over the news.”
“Thanks.” <click>
I went back to doing my taxes and listening to the news. I didn’t really feel anything other than a sad emptiness. Finished my taxes alternated between CNN and the Dope to keep track of what was happening. Eventually, I fell asleep watching CNN. When I awoke, Larry King was interviewing a former shuttle astronaut.
I stumbled into the shower and that’s when I broke down. I cried until the water turned cold. When I was seventeen, I wanted to join the Air Force so that one day I could become an astronaut. I didn’t do it because my mother went into hysterics every time I brought the subject up. I will always regret not joining up.
Tonight at work, no one seemed to care about what happened. Luckily, no one said anything about the space program being a waste of money. If they had, I’d have killed them with my bare hands.
The good news is that it looks like my tax refund’s going to be large enough to pay my rent, property taxes and take care of a few other bills. Plus, there should be enough money left over for me to be able to take a trip to watch the next shuttle launch.
I hope that it’s soon.
Give it a rest, UnuMondo. Your attempt at perspective is misguided and poorly timed. Pick another day for your battles: this tragedy has affected a lot of people, and this thread is the place where they vent, share, and grieve. Anything else is just damn tacky, and it will not happen here.
My father was chief engineer of rocket design at Rocketdyne/Boeing for years (yes, I am the daughter of a bona fide rocket scientist). The engine cones for the space shuttles was one of the company’s main contributions, though not its only one, to the space program.
This makes all of the Space Shuttles very near and dear to our hearts. Although not a part of the creation of Columbia or Challenger, Dad was privy to much of their classified information. This includes the Challenger disaster. Years ago–perhaps 4-5 years after the loss of that spacecraft–my father brought home a tabloid. A tabloid! My logic-ruled father! But why? Because its headline story was a transcript of the cockpit voice recorder of the lost shuttle. This was long before NASA acknowledged the crew was still conscious (at least, some of them), that the cabin separated intact, and that it was the contact with the water that killed many of them. Dad breathed not a word about that tabloid, wouldn’t allow us to ask anything, and was deeply disturbed the rest of that evening.
Dad is in Ohio right now handling the affairs following the death of his mother. I am concerned for him. Although he is retired from the program, each of the shuttles was very dear to him, and this blow, like with many people, will affect him quite personally.
As a teacher, I just finished our Astronomy unit. As their unit-ending project, several students made models of a space shuttle, or drew detailed diagrams of them. Several visited the NASA web site and read about the impending launch (another classroom watched the launch live in their room). As a class, we had a rather in-depth (for 5th grade) discussion of the Challenger disaster, which upset some of the students greatly. A video showing the first 10 years of space shuttle flight (hey, I’m a teacher, oiur videos aren’t exactly the newest stuff) had shown the infamous explosion–but then the return to space just a few years later.
We’ll have a discussion, I’m sure, again tomorrow. I’ll likely use one of the better space shuttle models to try to explain some of the theories of what happened. Maybe it could be the subject of this week’s quickwrite…“Do we return to space?” I hope they say, “Yes.”
Only 7 people died in that tragedy yesterday. But the hopes and dreams of millions were wounded along with them.
How about shame on the fact that we now live in a world where that’s a plausible thought for people to have. Now every time there’s a disaster or major accident, people have to be reassured that terrorism wasn’t involved. The plane crash in Charlotte a few weeks ago, the pharmaceutical plant explosion in Kinston last week, the Columbia…newscasters have to come out and say that it was a real accident, no terrorism. Actually, it’s kind of pitiable. (pityable?)
My heart goes out to the friends and familys of the Columbia crew. I had to work a double yesterday and was stuck watching the news coverage as I would pass by the bar T.V. (I too was in school when the Challenger disaster happened). I am one of those that really didn’t think I would see another one of those in my lifetime. And hope to never see one again. I am still in shock.
Nitpick, Grelby: there were 16 manned operations in the Apollo spacecraft: “Apollo 1” (so named posthumously), Apollos 7 thru 17, Skylabs missions 1-3, and the ASTP in '75. Apollos 2,3,4,5 were unmanned tests.
Has anyone seen this Time article?
I was at an academic team meet at the time. The officials didn’t want to tell us about it for fear that it would interfere with the competition. They were right.
Sad sad day. I heard that they found remains of the astronauts…
I am so grateful no one on the ground was hit by debris.
I had to run an errand this morning, and all the flags where at half staff. I cried all the way home.
In the immortal words of Dana Whitaker of Sports Night, “I have had enough to know that I have had enough! I want something good to happen right now, immediately! Not next week, not tomorrow, right now!”
It hurts. It hurts so damn bad.
My condolences for all who have to suffer this loss.
I was dumbstruck, I was at an interview for a job at GT and someone came and said to our group “Columbia blew up” and I didn’t comprehend for several minutes. Being from Orlando we always stopped class to walk outside and watch the shuttle, or stayed up late to watch night launches from our Orlando home. It struck really close to home in me, the thought of another shuttle blowing up. I was too young to remember the first one but I had a picture up on my wall of Challenger since I was in elementary school - it’s still there in my room at home.
I have several friends hoping to work for NASA, I hope there is reform but I am struggling with the idea of shutting them down. I don’t think they will but it is definitely scary for many of my friends who want to work there.
Did anyone else here Iraqi’s are calling this God’s revenge?