TO TOUCH THE FACE OF
GOD...TO TOUCH THE FACE OF
GOD...
On the 1st of February, once again our soaring collective earthly hopes and aspirations were dashed to pieces by the harsh and implacable forces of gravity. On that day, as all who experienced this day will forever remember, 7 courageous and worthy individuals lost their lives on NASA's STS-107 space mission, when the shuttle Columbia was breached by the thermal forces of re-entry and destroyed. The subject has been covered in so much exhaustive emotional detail by now (just a month since the event happened) that there is little to add, save my own expression of sadness over this tragic turn of events. Sad as it may be, however, and as often as it has been stated that all 7 of these souls knew fully of the great risks and danger attendant to their calling, I believe it is safe to say that none of them truly ever expected fate to intercede and require such cruel payment in advance for their bold undertaking. The indescribably sad final video footage salvaged from the crash debris that showed the crew marveling over the visual thermal effects display outside the cockpit windows, just a few minutes before catastrophe struck, amply underscores that unhappy fact. In fact, no one who undertakes such great risks as a matter of occupational course truly expects to have their chips called in; this was as true of the early 1950s tests pilots, the early astronauts, and the Challenger crew, as it was for Columbia's crew.
However sad that tragedy may be, it has appropriately drawn renewed attention to the advisability of our entire space program (and perhaps it is long overdue). On the one side of this question are those who perpetually idealise man's quest to push the envelope and penchant for exploring new frontiers. These are the outspoken advocates of our continued presence in space who will brook no compromise to a continued manned space program, regardless of cost, complexity, practicality, or the ratio of expenditure invested to realised return. On the other side of this matter are those who practically point out the obvious: that man is not absolutely needed in space to carry out whatever scientific experimentation might be of interest to research scientists in that environment.
There are sufficiently cogent and compelling arguments on both sides of this question, but perhaps the most important aspect of manned space flight is the great cost involved in providing a safe environment for human beings in space. When a human disaster such as has recently happened occurs, the human cost in terms of lives lost is great enough, but the hard, unavoidably crass bottom line of financial cost ever looms like the tip of a fog shrouded iceberg that floats just beyond the nose of NASA's manned space vehicles.
Living in an age such as the present, in
which our entire nation has become inured to the wizardry of science and
technology that provides us with so many modern (minor and major) delights in
our lives, it is perhaps understandable that the immense cost of these
advancements has been somehow relegated to the sidelines of our awareness or
even allowed to become deeply buried. Disregarding the highly political
nature of the US space program, and the utility of these 'scientific research'
developments notwithstanding, the fact is that we can no longer realistically
afford the excessive cost associated with putting man in space on a regular
basis and sustaining his safe presence there. The very real difference in cost
between use of unmanned vehicles and manned vehicles for space exploration is
beyond several orders of magnitude. Whether humanity's idealistic
flights of imagination urge us repeatedly onward into the ultimate hostile
physical environment of interplanetary space or not, given the present dire
economic problems that we and the whole planet face, the burdensome costs are
simply no longer justifiable.
A common argument voiced by those those whose heads are hopelessly lost in the stars is that the wealth of scientific 'spin-offs' produced by the space program are absolutely necessary to sustain 'progress'. Regrettably, this is a straw argument, since even though the technological spin-offs realised from space research programs have proven to be very useful and helpful in thousands of ways, there is nothing 'absolutely necessary' about them. In most cases, they have simply proven to be the source of expanded corporate profits as ever more largely unneeded materialistic consumer goods are generated through their incorporation. Such improvements in the quality of life as they enable may just as easily be brought about through entirely earth-bound applications of research and development study.
Personally speaking, I am equally torn between both arguments, for I have been for most of my life an enthusiastic proponent of aerospace technology and aviation research. I am also a wild-eyed idealist and former 'youthful bad poet' and amateur philosopher who well understands the human drama implicit in such leaps of applied imagination as manned space flight constitutes. However, I am also a realist in the greater context of humanity's pressing plethora of problems that we face as the human race continues to expand, spreading over the planet, and depleting its ever more finite natural resources. I feel, therefore, that we absolutely MUST prioritise in the most economic manner possible and turn to our immediate and important concerns first (those that directly confront us on this planet); advancing our ability to survive outstripping the planet's resources , perhaps then requiring the need to colonise other planets (or even other star systems) MUST take second place. There simply is no other economic approach allowable. Of course, there is a distinct possibility that humanity will eventually destroy itself before space flight ever become a safe and broadly available recourse; if the present Bush Administration's plan to go to war with every pip-squeak nation that dares to sneeze at us continues unchecked, we could well find the human race becoming history in a relatively shorter period of time than one presently allows for (as a former science fiction fan in my youth, I can all too easily imagine alien interstellar travelers visiting the sandy deserts of Earth at some distant point in the future, wondering if there was ever intelligent life on the planet in its ancient past....).
For the present, we are confronted by the sad aftermath
of yet another massive setback in manned space flight, as we are simultaneously
reminded of the relatively fragile nature of all biological life and that of
our earthly environment. Much food for thought, I think, in the contentious
days ahead as we struggle with econonomically & politically myopic idiots
who think the world needs nothing more than another, cozy little war
to warm the planet up with.....
By sad & ironic coincidence, on the 1st of February, our local McClellan Aviation Museum (former McClellan AFB Museum before base closure resulted in the need to privatise the museum) held an open house in cooperation with other museums in this area. Hearing just after dawn of the tragic fate of Columbia, I seriously doubted whether anyone would want to continue with the event, set in (to my mind) starkly opposed contrast to the horrific events of earlier in the morning. Going to the museum despite these thoughts, I was amazed to find hundreds of visitors coming out to our facility. Before the day had ended, we had logged more than 4000 people on our site--a record turnout for any past event hosted by our aviation museum. And this despite marginal weather with light fog and a stiff, brisk wind from the north. It was gratifying to see so many families there, but especially so to see several large groups of school children who were brought out by bus to see our collection of aircraft and other exhibits.
Among these was a Cub
Scout pack and several elementary school groups. Most of these children were
from somewhat less privileged neighborhoods, from schools with a large and disproportionate
number students belonging to ethnic minorities. Since I am on the board of the
museum foundation, I and a colleague who is also involved with life support
history dressed in authentic flightgear of several periods. My own gear was
straight out of the USAF's Air Defense Command of the late 50s (Convair F-106
Delta Dart), while my friend was suited up in Vietnam vintage fighter
squadron gear (McD/D F-4C Phantom II). By all appearances, the kids
were absolutely enthralled by the airplanes, but it was apparent that they also
had an awesome regard for anyone who looked like he might be a pilot (not surprising,
since I well recall being overawed by jet pilots as a small child).
Accordingly, Steve (my fellow board member) and I were asked if we would mind allowing the kids to pose with us; clearly, just about everyone thought we might have been REAL pilots, and while I certainly didn't claim this, I didn't disabuse the kids of this fact, since that would almost certainly have unnecessarily dampened their childhood fantasies of posing with a REAL pilot..... The picture appearing on the left shows the result: one extremely happy little guy who got to wear my helmet and mask and pose with a 'real' hero.
Looking at that picture, which
I am very fond of myself, I recall an earlier time in my own life when I was
allowed by a test pilot to briefly wear his flight helmet and oxygen mask and
pose for a snapshot at Edwards Air Force Flight Test Center in 1960. I was a
Boy Scout at the time, attending their annual 'open day' with my troop, and
I wandered about like a child in a candy store. I got to actually touch
the stupendously large and pure white North American triple-sonic XB-70 Valkyrie,
pose next to the famed X-15 research rocket, and of course wear a REAL flight
helmet and oxygen mask--among other things that happened on that day. This was
truly one of the peak experiences of 
my
adolescent life and I still carry the unqualified thrill that I felt at that
time with me to this day (picture at right, showing me wearing a similar P-4A
helmet & MS22001 mask at Edwards in 1960).
On the 1st of February, despite the pall cast by the shuttle Columbia's loss on re-entry, the thought that the small child there, obviously quite thrilled to wear a flight helmet and mask, might some day end up as an astronaut filled me with a special sense of pride and gratification. The moment had in this sense come full circle for me, and who knows if some day this little boy may have been inspired enough to take a serious interest in doing something equally as admirable with his life as had the Columbia 7 with theirs--partly, perhaps, due to this fleeting moment of identification with the fancied heroes of his youthful daydreams?
Such is the ethereal stuff that dreams are made of and such are the real reasons why we fragile human beings persist in attempting to reach out our hands and dare to touch the face of God.......
First star on the right, Columbia, then on to infinity...!
April 2003-------------------------------------------------
