She Flies...

The shuttle launched today. And, through the miracles of modern technology, I followed along from Afghanistan. If you can picture it, I took m easy chair outside the barracks, brought a Coke, and my laptop and satellite radio receiver. Focused in on the satellite, tuned in Fox News, and listened. Can't really watch the video over the web as the speed is too slow, but listened.

Now, backstory... I love space launches. I am a HUGE fan, advocate, and believer in the exploration of space. I vividly remember my first launch, 11 November 1982, for STS-5. This was the first operational shuttle launch, and my father drove all night to Florida to let me watch. What an amazing sight to see Columbia (RIP) thunder to the sky. And of course, I knew every step of the flight, what was going on. I was hooked.

I have attended both Space Camp and Space Academy. Even commanded a shuttle "mission", winning best mission award.

I will never forget where I was or what I was doing when Challenger died. (Yes, to me, the craft come alive for the launches, and like their crews, die when lost.) My parents will probably tell you how that night I watched the videotape over and over, in super slow motion, trying (and succeeding) to see what had gone wrong. Even with such basic technology, I could make out the leak of flame that was a blowtorch to the fuel tank.

Once I got old enough, I began making pilgrimages to the Cape. Every time there was a launch, I'd go. I jiggled work schedules, whatever it took. Sometimes, the shuttle didn't go. NEVER a problem. Safety first, as far as I am concerned.

I had such joy in sharing the experience with whomever I could convince to make the journey. I introduced my mother and step-father to the thrill, and even better, by doing so as close as possible.

And now, here I am... far away from the Cape. And Discovery's first launch date was not convenient for me to watch. But today... perfect. I just made it back from work to listen.

It saddens me how it seemed that the media was almost hoping for something to go wrong. As if there was no way that we could overcome the difficulties, the odds of something going wrong, and succeeding. A lack of faith... worse, a loss of the dream.

There is such a fantastic dream in sending people into space. Over thirty five years ago, man walked on the moon. We haven't been back. Besides of the incredible arrogance that the "Been there... so what" attitude that we seem to have about the Moon, we have seemed to lost not only the dream of exploring, but the desire.

We must continue to return to space. There WILL be more tragedies. Thousands died developing air travel (not yet perfected, I might point out.) More crossing the oceans. Exploring the West. Connecting Europe and Asia for the spice trade.

It's not easy...

It's not supposed to be. If it were, it'd already be done. If it were, the world would not have held it's collective breath for Freedom 7, Apollo 11, Columbia, and now... Discovery.

Thank you to the crew of Discovery, for being brave enough to climb aboard an immense bomb and say, "Send me."