Columbia, Ten Years On
Posted on February 1st, 2013 by Ian Blackthorne

Ten years ago today, the space shuttle Columbia broke up during re-entry. This is a particularly interesting entry on the subject from Wayne Hale, a former flight director and manager, quoting a member of the Columbia Accident Investigation Board.

Wayne Hale’s Blog

The rest of his After Ten Years series continues to provide interesting reading and insight to the accident. As for me, I’ll repost what I wrote as an editorial for the Celestial Prime Alliance’s website at the time. Looking back on it, it seems a bit raw and naive, but it’s a snapshot.

 

“Because It’s There”

originally published in the Celestial Prime Journal, February 14, 2003

Columbia’s return to Earth on February 1, 2003, wasn’t supposed to look a thing like the planned deorbit of the Russian space station Mir. Unfortunately, pictures of the two events are eerily similar. Spacecraft failing the hellish trials of returning to our planet’s surface look the same whether or not they carry our heroes. The laws of physics are oblivious to the way things should be and instead dictate the way things are.

Astronauts are heroes despite the criticism the manned space program is receiving in the wake of this disaster. By going boldly on a dangerous ride into a hostile environment they fulfill the basic desire of humanity to continually explore the unknown. Critics point out that manned spaceflight is too dangerous, but the astronauts are fully aware of the risks involved in spaceflight and are more than willing to take them.

Gus Grissom, perhaps one of the greatest pilots NASA has ever had the good fortune to employ, said, “If we die, we want people to accept it. We’re in a risky business, and we hope that if anything happens to us it will not delay the program. The conquest of space is worth the risk of life.” A few weeks later, he died in the tragic launchpad fire during the test of the Apollo I spacecraft. At least the Columbia astronauts got to experience spaceflight before they died; they felt weightlessness, performed their experiments, and stared in awe at the breathtaking sight of Earth from orbit, all the while e-mailing their families about what the experience was like. They made a conscious decision to risk death in order to experience these wonders that so many have only dreamed of.

There has been a trend preceding the three losses of life in the US space program: public apathy about spaceflight. Before the Apollo I tragedy, the public had come to view spaceflight as routine during the successes of the Gemini program. Only a few years later, after just two successful moon landings, the public again lost interest until Apollo XIII almost claimed three more lives. During the next sixteen years, the public briefly regained interest in spaceflight on three occasions: the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, the first few launches of the space shuttle, and the historic flight of Sally Ride aboard Challenger.

Once more, the successes made riding a controlled explosion into space seem routine, until our interest was again jarred by the loss of seven aboard the very ship that carried the first American woman into space. I was in first grade at the time, attending an elementary school where my father taught, and we were watching the launch that morning since school was cancelled because of snow. Seeing the Challenger explode against that stark blue winter sky was devastating to a little boy with dreams of being an astronaut.

Two and a half years would pass before the Discovery put us back into space and all seemed well. Atlantis met up with Mir, but Russians and Americans had worked together in space back in the 1970’s, so why should the public care? John Glenn became the oldest human to enter space along with his previous honor of being the first American to orbit Earth, but this was only enough to pique interest for a month or so. But, inevitably, our attention drifted elsewhere until last Saturday when we were shocked into watching with the loss of seven more heroes. I woke to news that took me back to 1986 as my father and I cried watching the Challenger’s launch. I never imagined that I would have to see another shuttle turn into a fiery streak against a winter sky.

Now NASA receives criticism for its aging shuttle fleet when Congress hasn’t seen fit to provide funds for a viable replacement. Of course we mourn the loss of seven of the most educated people ever to fly into space; Columbia’s mission was purely scientific and her crew was trained appropriately. During the mourning, without even giving NASA ample time to discover what happened to the first space shuttle, Gregg Easterbrook calls for the cancellation of the shuttle program in his Viewpoint article in the February 10 issue of TIME magazine. His argument might have been stronger had his fact-checkers been more thorough, as some of the information he presents as fact is blatantly wrong. But, given the public’s lack of interest in spaceflight, how would they know that what they’re reading isn’t true? After all, AOL-Time-Warner wouldn’t lead them astray.

It has happened three times, folks. We can’t let it happen again and must learn from history. But the answer isn’t to cancel the shuttle program. Figure out what went wrong and take any and all steps to avoid it happening again, but don’t wait two and a half years to fly again like after Challenger. Get Congress to give NASA the necessary funds to continue the shuttle program while we prepare to once more move beyond low Earth-orbit, which we haven’t done in thirty years. Mars awaits. Why go to Mars? Since we’re all Star Trek fans here, I’ll quote Captain Kirk. Why climb a mountain? “Because it’s there.”