Astronaut Corps Far From Ordinary People

Feb. 5 -- Years ago, when I had already covered enough launches of the space shuttle to qualify as a hard-shelled veteran, the father of a fellow reporter showed up at the Kennedy Space Center to watch his first launch. He looked like he had been around the horn a few times, a grizzled old fire fighter who had seen it all.

As the time for the launch approached, I headed out to edge of the grassy field in front of the viewing stands so I could stand on a mossy bank that is the closest anyone can get to the launch pad, except for a small rescue crew.

"Mind if I tag along?" my friend's father asked.

We walked past the huge countdown clock as it ticked away the seconds, and then we waited. Moments later, a blinding flash signaled the start of the launch, and as the shuttle moved up at what seemed to be an incredibly slow pace, the roar of its powerful engines overwhelmed us. The ground beneath our feet began to shake, even at a distance of three miles from the launchpad. Shockwaves from the rocket blast almost rocked us back on our heels.

Over the roar of the engines, I heard a strange noise. I turned and looked at my friend's father, who was sobbing.

"God speed, men," he cried, over and over again. "God speed."

Solemn Reminders of Risk

For him, the launch of the space shuttle had been transformed from a demonstration of technological prowess to a mission of valor by those who were held captive in its cramped cabin as it shuttered and vibrated upward, defying odds that few of us really understand. My friend's wish came true on that day. The flight was "nominal," as NASA would say, an awful word to describe such a perilous adventure.

A few months later, the Challenger lifted off, and the story was very different. And now, all these years later, the Columbia has reminded us once again of the price some people pay so that the rest of us can travel beyond the boundaries of our planet, even if only in front of a television set.

Stories abound these days about how the seven persons aboard the Columbia are so different from those early cowboys who rode their rockets into space. They're more down to earth now, we're told, more like the rest of us. They're just ordinary folk.