The Shuttle Challenger and Confronting My Mortality
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We will return
Ed Note: Today is the 31st Anniversary of the Shuttle Challenger disaster. This article originally appeared on January 28th, 2016.
Thirty years ago today was the first time I had to confront my own eventual death. I was only ten at the time, and I was on my way to the hospital. There was something going on with my health, and not a single doctor had been able to figure out the problem. My legs were feeling heavy and tired, there was blood in my urine, and in addition to the physical symptoms there were visible red dots showing up on my legs. Every day I would get a few new red dots, and my parents would take me to see a new specialist. Having doctors not know what was happening to my body started me on path to thinking I was going to die, soon. On January 28th, 1986 I was visiting a dermatologist in order to see if the red dots had any explanation. The doctor quickly diagnosed me with having a little known, at the time, illness called Henoch-Scholein purpura. I was immediately sent to the hospital and spent the next few months being released and readmitted as they treated the illness. I was going to be ok, I did not die.
January 28th, 1986 marked the launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger. This launch was going to be extra special because a civilian, a school teacher, was going to be on the ship. The Challenger was the work horse of the U.S. space program, and this launch was going to reignite the public excitement for manned space missions. Christa McAuliffe's journey to being an astronaut was presented to the entire nation. Many school aged children, myself included, were given lesson plans revolving around the civilian school teacher turned astronaut. McAuliffe's journey into space was going to be the first step to regular civilian space travel. I was convinced that getting off planet earth was going to be as routine and safe as it was to get from my house to school. Seventy-three seconds after the launch of mission STS-51-L the entire planet was reminded of the extreme danger space exploration holds.
The Challenger disaster was the harsh beginning to the end of serious US space exploration. We would not send another person into space for nearly two years. Politicians would use the disaster to dry up most of NASA's federal funding. The public quickly lost interest in all things related to exploration beyond our planet. The country was relating to Christa McAuliffe because she was going to be the first non-astronaut to go into space. The truth is that Christa McAuliffe was put through an immense training and safety program to make her competent to go on the shuttle, she was not like one of us. When the Challenger broke apart over the Atlantic Ocean, the regular persons dream of going into space ended. The thought of death was greater than our willingness to take the risk.
What happened off the coast of Florida on that chilly January morning was not a mere random accident. Politicians, news people, and businessmen demanded the launch of the Challenger, although many people in the scientific community warned of a looming catastrophe. NASA administrators were being pressured by people in Washington DC to make the launch date. Many of the engineers at NASA, and around the world, knew that the cold weather could cause issues with vital parts of the shuttle. A failure would definitely lead to disaster. Anti-science hubris caused the death of those seven astronauts, and crippled the US Space program. Many in the scientific community tried to speak out. Mechanical engineer Roger Boisjoly tried to get the launch scrapped in the days leading up to the disaster. Mr Boisjoly was not listened to, was not commended for his ethics, he was shunned by people in his own company and had to resign. Speaking out for astronaut safety was damaging to his career. By letting people who are good at politics make safety judgement calls over the advice of the scientific community was going to eventual lead to disaster. January 28th, 1986 saw that disaster.
When I got settled into my hospital room that night, my mother turned on the news so she could see what had happened in Florida that morning. We had heard from people in the emergency room about the disaster. It was heartbreaking to watch. I felt personally guilty because I was so worried about my own mortality, and just that very morning seven of our best citizens were killed by political hubris. I was still very afraid for my own well being, but I was sad for the families of the Challenger astronauts. They had to deal with unexpected death that day. In the weeks that followed, my ten year old mind was consumed with all the news surrounding the Challenger disaster. I was a child surrounded by sick people, and I was constantly thinking about those seven astronauts. I was constantly thinking about death.
The last thirty years have not quenched my thirst for knowledge concerning the Challenger disaster. As an adult I visit the Challenger memorial every time I make it out to Arlington National Cemetery. I am married to a mechanical engineer who learned scientific ethics from Roger Boisjoly. I work every single day to expose the arrogance and folly of those in the government who care more about fundraising than they do for the safety of their own constituents. Janurary 28th, 1986 was the first day I had to deal with death. It was also the first day that I decided to do something about it. One day I hope to go into outer space.
RD Kulik
RD is the Head Editor for SeedSing.
