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Forty years ago, I was at Mission Control at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center for the launch of the Challenger. I was working in data communications. My job was to ensure all telemetry links between the space shuttle and NASA's ground communications system (NASCOM) were operational. Everything was green on my board, the shuttle launched, and a few seconds later, everything went to hell. I stared at my controls, tried to get things to reconnect, and then I finally looked up at the TV display.
You know what I saw. We all saw it that day.
In schools across the country, kids from kindergartners to high school students were ready to watch Sharon Christa McAuliffe, the first teacher in space, launch into orbit. Instead, they saw a tragedy.
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By 1986, space flight had become passe. Most assumed that the space shuttle could be counted on to launch flawlessly time after time. There had been disasters. But most Americans didn't know about Soyuz 1's parachute failure or the decompression of Soyuz 11.
Apollo 13? We got our astronauts back. Apollo 1? That happened in a ground test and made little impact outside NASA circles.
Challenger exploded in front of our eyes.
Later, we learned that it could have been prevented. Roger Boisjoly, an engineer at Morton Thiokol, the manufacturer of solid rocket boosters, has written a memo predicting a potential "catastrophe of the highest order" involving the boosters' O-rings. This would create a real risk of "losing a flight." He was ignored by both Morton Thiokol and NASA, and seven brave people died.
They wouldn't be the last.
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