Columbia

Yesterday I turned on the radio when I woke up like I usually do—and learned that the space shuttle Columbia was feared lost, with little chance of the crew’s survival.

I still remember when we lost Challenger. The things that stand out most in my mind are the episode of Punky Brewster that dealt with with the explosion, the famous picture of the helix of white smoke, and Ronald Reagan’s speech that quoted from the poem “High Flight”: they “slipped the surly bonds of Earth” “to touch the face of God.”

And the church service went on, seemingly unaware that in twin booms over East Texas seven pioneers no longer hurtle across our skies.

In a way it’s doubly sad because this is how I learned about New York and Washington: a brutal understanding acompanying the morning. And there’s so little time to mourn because I have someplace else to be.

May God have mercy on their souls—and ours, as we go on.