Yesterday, 28 January 2010 was the day that NASA paused to remember all those whom have fallen in their pursuit of human ambition.
There are no great limits to growth, because there are no limits to the human imagination, intelligence, and sense of wonder.
It takes a lot of gumption to put your trust into the workings of a barely controlled man-made directed explosion, much more so if that explosion is attached to unique, ahead-of-the-curve technology in the most sophisticated piece of equipment ever built. However, the crews of Apollo 1, Challenger, and Columbia had done just that. They placed their complete and total trust into a mechanical monstrosity designed and built by the greatest minds and the lowest bidder, respectively. They placed their very being into the hands of friends and colleagues, knowing full well they were living and working at the edge of human knowledge, the point in which the unknown becomes known; the edge of science. With science, ignorant darkness begets declaratory light, knowledge transcends incomprehension, and the unknown is peeled back to reveal the grains of knowledge hidden deep within the beauty of Nature.
Science isn’t always simple, or safe. No-one intended for the men and women of NASA to die, but they all knew it would be a risk. Everyone knew that with complex systems, there were many unknowns, and although we, as scientists and engineers, can account for many of them, there are many more that simply cannot be comprehended. These unknowns are quantified as risk, and as such, as pioneers, we have to take those risks. We take them, and learn from them. We take them, and wrestle with them. We take risks, because the payoff is so great. The pursuit of truth is littered with the bodies of brave men and women, scientists and common folk alike. It is a tragedy when people die, and so, to you, the memories of all whom have died in the pursuit of science; to you, the crews of Apollo 1, Challenger, and Columbia, I raise my glass.
The crew of the space shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and ’slipped the surly bonds of earth’ to ‘touch the face of God –Ronald Reagan
While I am not old enough to remember either Apollo 1, or Challenger, I do remember the Columbia accident quite clearly. I was in a Red Cross CPR class through the Boy Scouts of America, and like many of the people in the class, it was nothing more than a refresher course. So, I was talking to the instructors and other students, all old friends, when one of the fellow students walks in, looking quite shell-shocked.
“Did you hear that Columbia blew up?”, she asked. We all looked at each other, waiting for the punch-line, which never came. “Yeah, it disintegrated in the air over Texas, and it is presumed everyone aboard is dead.” With that, the instructors turned on the TV, and we watched the news briefly, then began the class. I was unable to concentrate on the material, just going through it by rote, not really paying attention, or even caring. My mind was with the Columbia, wondering if there were any survivors, what happened, and why the shuttle had failed to protect its precious cargo of flesh and knowledge.
Despite the setbacks in the NASA program, despite the difficulties, despite the risk, I still want to be an astronaut.
