Discovery.

Yesterday I sat at my desk and watched a live cast of the shuttle launch on my computer, watched it dwindle into the sky and listened to the voice of the shuttle commander call off each stage closer to success and later, watched the fuel tank detach and the shuttle fall upwards and away into space.

I remembered the day in grade school when they pulled us out of class and we stood in groups around monitors set up in the hallways, watched that first shuttle take off with no real idea of what it meant, glad to be out of the classroom and dimly conscious of the the fact that this was a significant moment. 

The space program continued in the background, and soon there was no particular notice paid to launch days, to successful missions, to the astonishing fact of it all.  It became a commonplace event until that January day when the shuttle made it only 73 seconds into her journey.  I was in high school then, and I think it was the first time I understood the illusion that is safety.  I worked in the kitchen there, and our cook was a cousin of one of the astronauts.  I remember his face when he realized it was true, and watching the images on television over and over and again, that white contrail in the sky and the hollow feeling it left behind.

In 2003 I was numb to it.  After 9/11 and the war and the build up to the invasion of Iraq and the general sense that the world was ending, horrifying things had become everyday events and I had lost my capacity to be grieved by individual tragedies.   I heard the news third hand and noticed the memorial notice at a local church remotely, as I drove home every day.

But yesterday I sat and watched human beings fly into the heavens.  Live.  On a computer the size of an old fashioned salesman's sample case, one that is more powerful that anything that any one other than NASA might have used in 1981, but which we now take for granted.  The hair on my arms stood straight out with a chill of wonder that many might call childlike, but which I think is truly the property of an adult, wonder you can't feel until you understand the fragility and resilience of human beings.  Wonder my teachers must have felt as we shuffled our feet in that school hallway all those years ago.

My god, the things that men can do. 

I am sure there is politics and infighting, that the lowest common denominators of life are a factor in the space program, but there is something pure about it too.  This is a thing that we do because we can, because there are still things we don't understand, because discovery is an end it itself, because it is possible, and we want to know what's out there.

We started with nudity and a sheep, and many someones figured out shearing and carding and spinning and weaving and knitting and animal husbandry and how to roast mutton.  We started with calling the stars after the gods of our imagination and assigning portents to comets of rock and fire and now we can fly among them.

The domestic part of me, the part that watched the Challenger burn in the sky, all it can think is please come safely home so you can wave jubilantly to the crown that waits to greet you and know that you touched the sky...and the rest of me just says thank you for doing this, for all of us.

It is anything but commonplace.

Comments

[Celia]

I was in high school when they first walked on the moon. We saw them on TV and then went outside in the evening heat and gazed at moon in awe.

[Teresa C]

I'm a little older than you, when Challenger went up I was sitting knitting while my baby was napping. They weren't even broadcasting it, they had to break into regular programming to report it. Because of it, we will probably not look at any launch the same way and they will always be broadcast.

Funny, I am always asking myself, "Who had the idea to......" and removing the fleece from a sheep to making a fabric out of it and wearing it....I mean really! Rockets into space, boiling a lobster and eating the insides....it all amazes me. All of it.

[Childe]

Well said.

[Heidi]

*sniffle* Excellent post.

[Mary]

For some reason, this launch was a rebirth for me. I am older - I was in college when John Kennedy was killed and was raising children when the Challenger died. I don't know what drew me to my computer yesterday, but I kept looking to see when the headlines changed from preparing to launch. We've prepared, technologically, emotionally, spiritually for a long time. I walked into a meeting with my face blotchy from the tears that celebrated that successful takeoff, my heart full of prayer that they would return safely to earth and to their families, full of memories and tales of space.

I, too, found myself complacent about the progress we made in space, forgetting that every second of progress came at the hands of a person, both in space and on the ground. I hope to never become complacent again. Whether or not I truly understand what they do, and what it takes for these missions to occur, I want to always watch, and do these men and women honor as they risk all they are in the fragile shell of a space bourne vehicle.

[Lee Ann]

I was too nervous to watch this one, having watched the Challenger with a girl who was a former student of Christa McAuliffe. But I did see it later on Euronews and felt an enormous sense of relief watching that shuttle disappear into the blue, even though I knew ahead of time that it did so safely.

But despite my nervousness, both my husband and I would deeply love to be on such an adventure, because it's possible. There are times when one has to say that just because it's possible does not mean we should do it, but when it comes to space exploration, it's a whole new realm of wonder, of need to reach out to whatever is out there, of need to know and be known. The question, to me, has never been "are we alone?" Even on a statistical level, it's just not possible that we are the only living creatures in the universe. Rather, the question has always been "how long before we meet our neighbors?" Not in my lifetime, most likely. But the need to reach out speaks to what is good in the human spirit. And the more we can focus on that, the better.

Dude, I love reading you.

[stephanie]

Damn fine thinking on your part there.
Makes me feel terrible that I didn't even know they were up there.

[--Deb]

A wonderful post. I am a big fan of the space program and think that trying to reach the stars is a brave endeavor for mankind. I was only 2 when we landed on the moon, but can still remember the Wow-factor and sense of purpose and optimism that we could do such a remarkable thing. I think that one of the reasons the Challenger disaster WAS such a disaster was because we'd never had anything go so wrong in space before. The Apollo 1 crew who burned on the launchpad, by then, were a distant memory (one I didn't know about until years later), and anyway, that had happened here, on Earth, as part of a fire. A common occurance in an uncommon place. Not nearly the same thing as that spectacular explosion of the Challenger. I was a freshman in college then, and remember tuning into my scratchy-picture television and being awed by that plume of white smoke against that blue, blue sky--ironically beautiful. Since then, though, as you say, we've become inured to these repeated blows to the human psyche. We're numb. And we've lost sight of the magic that is space flight--because really, leaving our planet? That's an amazing thing! Thank you for reminding us.

[Risa]

Beautifully put. I too sat in front of my computer at work and watched the launch yesterday. I felt the hairs stand on end and a tear of joy as it successfully made orbit. I too pray for their safe return. I welcome the exploration and the discovery.

[June]

What a great, thoughtful post. I remember thinking in 2003 that if they had landed safely, it barely would have made the news, shuttle journeys having become sort of ho-hum by then. But who could forget the Challenger disaster? My former 2nd grade teacher had applied to go on that mission but (obviously) didn't make the cut. I was in jr. high when it happened - we were so stunned, even at that age when a kid like me could hardly comprehend the idea of death.

[margene]

I remember so well when man walked on the moon. The wonder and awe of it is still with me. We are so capable of all that is good and of all that is not. Amen to them coming home safely.

[Cara]

I can't watch anymore. I was in high school as well when Challenger (that's the one with the teacher right?) exploded - we were all watching - it was such a big deal. And then the one in 1993 - I won't watch again. To many bad thoughts already.