My childhood is littered with memories about being down on the docks of Cape Canaveral, Florida. My father is a sea captain, and being in such close proximity to the Kennedy Space Center, I watched Shuttle launches from the sea and from the land. There were a couple of occasions when, simply standing in the house, a rumble would fill the air and the floor would start to shake as a shuttle launch we had forgotten about would take place, and the whole family was delighted and surprised to witness such an event.
I was four on January 28th, 1986, and I was watching from outside as the Challenger took off. It was exciting; I was starting school the following fall, and therefore, I looked up to teachers with fascinated admiration. That Christa McAuliffe was to be the first teacher in space was just incredible to me. At four, space shuttles were part of my life, and it seemed impossible that this woman would be the first teacher to go there. I figured everyone, eventually, would get a turn to ride in that great big shuttle. We hadn't forgotten that day, and we stood outside in the January air (which, for Florida, was very cold; compared to the weather the rest of the country was having, I'm sure it was pleasant) and we watched the shuttle take off through the air, only to become bits of fiery glitter and smoke falling back towards the ocean. I didnt realize at first what exactly had happened. I knew this wasn't normal, but it was still a beautiful sight. I didn't understand at the time that the "pretty smoke show" was not only abnormal, but also tragic.
Twenty one years later, I understand more of what happened. Not only that that pretty glow was an explosion which killed seven people, but also why it even happened, at least partly.
An enormous part of what caused that disaster was a lack of communication, and that lack of communication was bi-directional. People heard what they wanted to hear, and just as dangerously, chose their words in such a way that the danger of what could possibly take place was grossly underestimated.
It all boiled down to an O-ring, and the fact that this O-ring was not considered safe to use in temperatures as low as they were in Central Florida that morning. No one wanted to be the one to speak up and say "Hey. This is a Very Bad Idea." - it's somewhat understandable that no one wanted to be that one jerk out there. There was a lot of money invested in this project, and a lot of publicity. So people took chances, and lives ended terribly because of those chances. The really horrible part about all of that is the fact that no one knows exactly how terribly those lives ended. No one really knows exactly how the seven astronauts aboard died that day - there is only speculation. Was it instantanous, as we'd all like to think, and pray that it was? Or was it a long, slow tumble back towards Earth, as asphyxiation set in and gave those seven time to realize that they were going to die? We probably won't ever know the answer to that. Personally, I'm not sure I want to know the answer.
May you seven rest in peace.