Trees for the Forest

A week after the Columbia disaster, it has become another tragedy for us to endure. Comediennes on Star Search yell out to “Save the Shuttle” at the end of their acts, while little 10 year old girls are able to bring us to tears with songs of love, because our emotions are that much closer to the surface.

The pain is less, but the numbness is still there. Much like imagining those jumping from the heights of the Twin Towers (I was fortunate not to see any footage of that), imagining what it might have been like to have an inkling that things were coming apart for the astronauts, is the pain that will not go away.

Even so, we move closer to war.

More pain is coming.

The country is in shock again.

I remember witnessing the Challenger disaster on TV with my classmates in the school library 17 years ago. One of those JFK moments for me, no doubt, but that was when we, as a country, cared more about the takings off and landings of shuttles.

Now, when we (certainly I) didn’t care as much, we are shocked to attention. The first shuttle, our favorite, aptly named Columbia, is now gone.

These vessels for space travel, we cannot forget, were and are always tools for their passengers. Those passengers are obliterated, along with their tool.

I called my mother this morning during the time it was first being reported, not knowing anything had happened. “Good morning!”… “I don’t know if I want to qualify it,” she intoned… The moment she mentioned if I had heard anything about the Columbia, I knew something horrible had happened, and knew that the morning was not good at all. Turning on the ubiquitous news channels, I was quickly brought up to painful speed.

I am still in shock, as I can imagine many are. Death from out of nowhere, for those in pursuit of something noble. Our baby steps in that regard, continue to falter. We will not be stopped, but rather slowly yet surely we will learn these hard lessons about taking grandeur for granted.