It Was 23 Years Ago Today…
… that the Challenger space shuttle exploded 73 seconds after launch. Where were you? I was sitting in a college algebra classroom when I heard about it, and had several more classes to suffer through before I could finally get home and watch the footage on TV. I remember the most upsetting thing about the disaster was watching Christa McAuliffe’s mother’s reaction to the explosion. I can’t even imagine such dismay. My heart breaks again just thinking of it… Poor woman.
But the most morbidly fascinating thing about the accident is wondering what became of the crew after the space shuttle broke up. The crew compartment remained intact after the explosion, so it’s possible that the crew retained consciousness for at least part of the three long minutes it took the compartment to impact the ocean surface, although it’s more likely that they lost consciousness due to lost pressure in the compartment. However, I can’t help but think what it might have been like to be aware that you are falling to your death and being completely helpless to do anything to save yourself. You certainly can’t say that’s a boring way to die.
Here is the official NASA report on the probable cause of the crew’s demise.
The Fate Of The Challenger’s Crew
I remember that awful day. I was in the fourth grade and there had beena lot of excitement about the launch because of the “teacher in space” angle. I think we were going to watch the launch in class, but it snowed the day before and school was cancelled on the 28th.
I don’t remember much about the actual disaster as it was shown on TV; must’ve been too young for it to really register.
But ever since then, I have hated it when the launch is replayed on TV or something. Hindsight is 20/20, and it’s just awful to hear the guy counting down and doing his play-by-play thing, and at the time he has no idea, nobody has any idea, that anything is wrong. But we as viewers do know how it’s going to turn out, and now as then, everone is powerless to do a single thing to avert the accident.
I was a senior in HS, and was skipping class and eating a late breakfast/early lunch at the Bagel Place. I saw it all happen on TV. I had major flashbacks a few years back with Colombia.
I was sitting in a classroom as well. It was my homeroom I think. I remember the school secretary on the intercom announcing what had happened – it was clear that she was crying. I saw the footage right after school at a teacher’s house. I was completely enthralled. It was such a strange sight and being in a teacher’s home – making the teacher herself seem unusually human – made it all the stranger. I was also totally fascinated by the disaster and often wondered what the crew went through.
Years later I worked for a woman whose father turned out to have been a NASA engineer who was on duty during the disastrous Challenger launch. Her account of that day was like nothing I’d ever heard. Apparently the launch site was on complete lock down all day and long into the night. No one was allowed to leave the premises while they tried to figure out what the hell had gone wrong and work on recovering what was left of the shuttle and crew. So she remembers her family being terribly upset about the disaster itself and very worried for her father who had been incommunicado all day. I was, of course, dying to hear as many details as I could, but it was clear that it was still a sensitive issue for her and her family. I can barely imagine what it must’ve been like to have had a parent working on that mission. She did say that she heard from her father that the recovered crew compartment was in a very grisly state. . .but that was the most I could get out of her. Fascinating.
I remembered watching the very first shuttle launch, and had eagerly watched footage of every one after that.
I was in grade eight, and found out upon getting home from school. I walked into the house and my Mom told me, and it was all over the news. I watched it explode over and over again, horrified.
It was the last shuttle launch I watched.
I was only 3 when this happened, so I don’t really remember much about it. It has contributed to my odd fear of outer space.
I found out years later that one of the librarians at my elementary school was one of the alternates, I think, to be on the Challenger. He was an amazing man and selfish as it is I’m very glad that we didn’t lose him. He used to show us episodes of The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery on rainy days.
I was driving down dorchester ave in fields corner ( a neighborhood in boston) in my datsun pickup listening to WBUR, the local NPR outlet when the news came over the radio. I’ll never forget that.
My sister knew a woman who was working for NASA in the control room that day; as Maika reports, as soon as it happened they locked the doors and said no one could enter or leave until they knew what had happened. She said that at first they couldn’t believe it, because the crew was still sending them information after they saw the explosion…and continued to send messages until the crew compartment splashed down. So someone was still alive, and still conscious, all the way to the water, according to her.
My boyfriend knew the man who did the wiring harnesses for Fat Man and Little Boy, and who spent the end of his career refusing to work on anything more significant than toggle switches. I am surrounded by those steeped in morbidity, with no stories of my own. Sigh.
I was a junior in college and had actually cut a class to ’study’ in the tv room of the dorm. They cut into the program that was ‘on in the background while I studied’ to report on the explosion. It’s one of the few events from my life where I know exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard the news.
Being of a morbid bent myself, I’ve often wondered if the crew were conscious during the fall. Falling for that long, aware of exactly what’s happening and that you can’t do a damn thing about it … a strange way to go.
Here’s a link to the official transcript of the crew’s comments during the launch. The last line is chilling.
http://history.nasa.gov/transcript.html
I think that that would be the worst part, Erin, knowing what’s happening and being unable to do anything about it while the seconds are ticking away.
I was 25 years old and on that very day, I was moving to Orlando, Florida.
What a welcome.
4 years later, I moved back home to Baton Rouge, LA and the EXXON refinery exploded.