I have this memory from childhood where I’m laying in bed with a bad case of the flu; Mom was working a weird nursing shift so she was sleeping on the couch, and Dad was at work. So I was pretty much on my own, miserable and unable to sleep. To pass the time, I read through a Time-Life book on the Space Race. This light blue book with an image of a launching Saturn V on the cover was the start of what has become a lifelong fascination with space exploration.

As exciting as space exploration was – and for a child, the world of Mercury, Gemini, Apollo, Skylab, and the up-and-coming Space Transportation System aka Space Shuttle were – there was still a dangerous and tragic side. On that sick day I read about how John Glenn’s retro-rocket problems with Friendship 7, how Neil Armstrong and Dave Scott almost died on Gemini 8, and – most upsetting – the fire that claimed the lives of the crew of Apollo 1. When I talked to Mom about, she looked me in the eyes and told me – in that pragmatic nurse way – that sometimes things don’t go right and that people do die. Then she added on that to die while doing what we loved to do and wanted to do maybe wasn’t that bad after all.

Years later I sat with the rest of my eighth grade class and watched in horror as Challenger disintegrated 73 seconds after launch taking with it the woman who was to become the first teacher in space, Akron native Judy Resnik, and five other astronauts. Nearly twenty years later I watched as superheated chunks of debris rained down as Columbia broke apart on her return from space.

As he set foot on the moon, Apollo 15 Commander Dave Scott stated simply that “Man must explore”. Apollo 1 Commander Gus Grissom reminded people that “We’re in a risky business….the conquest of space is worth the risk of life”.

One of the highlights of our trip to Kennedy Space Center was a stop at the Astronauts Memorial. As I stood in front of the giant polished mirror and traced the astronauts names, I was reminded of the words of George W. Bush speaking about Columbia and her crew. “This cause of exploration and discovery is not an option we choose it is a desire written in the human heart. We are that part of creation which seeks to understand all creation. We find the best among us, send them forth into unmapped darkness and pray they will return. They go in peace for all mankind and all mankind is in their debt.”

Today’s poem goes back to an earlier memorial service, where the words of a young man cut down in the throes of WWII were used by President Ronald Reagan to help a nation – and a young eighth grader – some closure on an earlier tragedy.

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. Hov’ring 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 ever 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.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr