requiem
Everyone is by now aware of the accident that claimed the lives of everyone aboard Columbia this morning. NASA has a good summary of what’s known so far, and is minimally sensationalist; I hope they’ll keep it up to date. It’s quite possible that more people have died driving to work at NASA over the last 17 years than perished in the Columbia and Challenger accidents combined, but there’s still something tragic — and perhaps even oddly beautiful, though that sounds more morbid than I want it to — about people losing their lives in pursuit of human knowledge and exploration. The space program, for all its too-human faults, has been of tremendous symbolic and practical value to the cause of scientific discovery for more than fifty years now, and there’s still a twinkle of “hero” that I hear everytime I come across the word “astronaut”.
My heart also goes out to the supporters of the Israeli and Indian space programs; what a shame that their first in-flight contributions would be such bitter sacrifice. I hope that they don’t lose sight of the larger dream, as the US will not (according to comments today from President Bush).
Since the dawn of mankind’s quest to “slip the surly bonds of Earth“, space travel has been a fragile balance of risk and adventure. Happily, Richard Nixon never had to deliver the speech written for him in the event that Apollo 11′s crew were lost, but William Safire’s words seem appropriate for today:
In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man. [...] Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man’s search will not be denied.