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Moments Frozen in Time in Our Collective Memory: The Challenger Explosion – 52 Ancestors #387

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On January 28th, 1986, a bright, sunny Florida morning, the space shuttle Challenger exploded 73 seconds after launch, killing all 7 crew members aboard. Later, we learned that their deaths probably occurred instantaneously or within seconds after the explosion ripped the capsule apart, but we didn’t know that at the time. Thank goodness they didn’t suffer and may have been blessedly unconscious, unaware of what was happening.

In the US, many people still listened to and watched the shuttle launches. This launch, in particular, was more widely viewed because teacher Crista McAuliffe was among the crew members. The launch feed was piped into many classrooms, including to Crista’s own students who had been celebrating and cheering wildly, then fell into stunned silence.

Newspapers.com shared this image today.

Most people who are old enough to recall remember exactly what they were doing that day.

I was driving on Interstate 96 in Michigan, on the way to the Hewlett Packard office where I worked. I was listening to the launch on the radio, as I did most space launches, given that I was then and remain a space geek. This launch, this time, though, was different.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Of course, I couldn’t see the images in the car, but I can still hear the newscaster’s voice and recall vividly where I was on the expressway. I knew I was only about 10 minutes from the office.

I clung to every word along the way. The newscaster didn’t tell us outright that the Challenger had exploded, but simply that there was something wrong, and there had been a “major malfunction,” followed by complete and utter silence. That NEVER happens on air. Never. I turned the radio up, but it was still eerily silent.

After what seemed like the longest minute or two ever, he simply said that the “vehicle had exploded.” We know now that he was listening to mission control and was probaby trying to digest what he was hearing, and weighing exactly what to say, knowing he had to say something.

He spoke dryly in very measured tones of “recovery and contingency procedures,” and then that they had “impact in the water.” You could tell he was well-trained, but the lack of urgency, panic and shock in his voice allowed us to be hopeful that it wasn’t as bad as the situation suggested.

Remember, I was in a vehicle and couldn’t see anything. I was shocked and numb. Tears began to slip down my cheeks, but I couldn’t cry because I had to drive. I needed to get to that television and see what was transpiring. Maybe I was misunderstanding.

I wanted to believe that the capsule had simply fallen into the ocean and the crew would be picked up. Maybe it was just the booster and the capsule itself was alright. Maybe.

This launch had been previously delayed. I already had a bad feeling about it. I wanted to be wrong.

You can view the NASA video here. It’s still very difficult for me to watch.

When I arrived at the office about 10 minutes later, everyone was clustered tightly around the single small television on the premises, in dead silence. Many were crying.

By this time, more commentary had emerged. I have no idea who was speaking, but the explosion and pieces cascading in graceful smokey arched contrails into the ocean was replaying. I was horrified. When I saw all those separate pieces, I realized what we were watching.

I knew that Crista’s parents and children were in the stands watching, along with the families of the other astronauts. Nothing prepares you to watch that, even though everyone knew space travel held inherent risk.

Given that a school teacher was allowed to join the crew, we believed that perhaps space travel had become safter and one day, more civilians would join those ranks.

The difference between this disaster and others is that in an instant, it was burned with a branding iron into the collective consciousness of an entire set of generations.

We witnessed it, then again and again on replay, and it was shockingly horrible. Most of us remember vividly where we were at the time.

Many were confused at first. We didn’t believe or maybe understand what we saw. We were in collective shock. No, no, this couldn’t possibly be real.

Slowly, as the day wore on, our worst fears were realized and we understood that we had witnessed the deaths of 7 incredibly brave people in the clear, blue sky above Cape Kennedy.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

This was never supposed to happen.

High Flight

The poem High Flight was written by John Gillespie Magee, Jr. in 1941, but was quickly associated with the Challenger accident when then-President Reagan spoke some of these legendary words to a shocked and grieving nation in his public address to the country in lieu of the previously planned State-of-the-Union. His speech still makes me cry – it was and is incredibly inspirational, as is “High Flight.”

“Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds –
and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of –
wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hovering there I’ve chased the shouting wind along
and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.

“Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
and, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
the high untrespassed sanctity of space,
put out my hand and touched the face of God.”

By Tim1965 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16542681

High Flight is carved on the back of the Challenger Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery where the co-mingled cremated remains of the crew were laid to rest that May.

By Jtesla16 – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6930389

For years, I had a copy of High Flight magneted to my filing cabinet, the words brought me comfort, honoring the pioneering spirit of those brave souls, along with others less famous and often forgotten.

Dave’s Departure

Twenty-six years later, on the same day in 2012, about the same time, my brother Dave slipped his bonds of earth too.

Not long before, Dave took this picture through the windshield of his big rig in the mountains someplace out west, probably on his last run. I always think of him, “there,” in that light. I think of them “there” too.

This day and date are forever seared into my memory. Those two events are now forever linked by a common day in terms of grief and disbelief, but also because of bravery, inspiration, admiration and love.

Share Your Memories?

What are your memories of the Challenger explosion? Have you shared them with your family members? Where were you? How did it affect you?

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