|
None of us had never seen a space shuttle lauch before, so the prospects were exciting.
It was cold--the night before especially. The previous night, while driving, we noticed how large the moon looked on the horizon, and how red it looked. My mother remarked that some people saw that as an omen of bad things.
So that morning we were driving along I-4 in Volusia County, Florida, just past the bridge over Lake Monroe. We were beginning to make the long drive back to our home back north. Knowing that the space shuttle was scheduled to launch that morning, our eyes constantly scoured the horizon for any sign. It seemed like forever.
Until I saw a bright light slowly rising, followed by a pure white contrail. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I told my parents, and they pulled the car over. We all got out, and several other cars had also pulled off to the shoulder and watched as well.
The plume continued to rise, and my father took out his camera and begun to snap pictures. Nothing seemed odd or abnormal--even when the plume seperated into two contrails. We assumed that was how all space shuttle launches were.
My father took several more pictures of the curious two pronged plume, and after it appeared the plume had stopped rising, we got back in the car and began driving, excited at seeing our first space shuttle launch.
My mother decided to switch on the radio. On was a news bulletin.
"The space shuttle has exploded."
My mom gasped.
My father would note that he saw that two pronged cloud of death as far north as the St. John's River in Jacksonville, and how haunting it was, that reminder of death.
We pulled into a McDonalds to have lunch. The entire dining room was silent, in shock. I remember hearing another child remark to his mother as to why the shuttle exploded.
I was 6 years old, but I knew about life and death. I knew those 7 astronauts had perished. On cartoons that I watched, when a character exploded, all you saw was their face covered in soot, which they then shook off and went back to business. I knew that wasn't real. I knew that wasn't actually the case for those on the space shuttle that day.
Yet something in my six year old mind wanted that to be real. That the astronauts were safe. That they hadn't died, that they were found safely and could return back to their familes. It was a conscious denial on my part, not to dwell on that grim fact, to pretend what I knew wasn't real. But what's a six year old to do?
The explosion of the Space Shuttle Challenger on January 28, 1986 was undoubtedly the most notable moment I ever witnessed in person. It would be interesting how I would have reacted if I witnessed it as an adult. But part of me thinks I might have reacted the same way, that I would have hoped--against reality--that those 7 brave souls were safe and sound.
|