25 Years Ago

25 years ago today, I was sitting in my small 4th grade classroom in the southeast corner of the second floor in Maples School. I haven't set foot in that classroom in more than two decades, but I remember the room well because it played a very important role in my childhood for many reasons. The Challenger explosion is one of those reasons.

I remember the television being wheeled into our class that morning so we could watch the launch and witness the first school teacher ever traveling into space. By today's standards, the TV wasn't much....but at that time having this "big" TV in our room was rather exciting. I don't remember if our teacher, Dr. Bingham, was there that day or not, but considering how important it was to him for us to watch this event and how instrumental he was in securing one of the "big" TVs for us to watch this on, I can't believe he wouldn't have been....although because it's very hard for me to remember at what point of that school year he took his leave of absence, I can't swear that he was.

Actually, there are plenty of details I cannot remember from that day. Not only can I not remember if my teacher was there or not, I can't remember who I sat next to....or which of my elementary school friends were even in my class that day, or that year. I remember there was more than one adult in the room with us, but I can't remember who or how many. What I do remember is watching the shuttle take flight, imagining what it must be like inside the shuttle. I was obsessed with space flight and aviation overall at that age, and always wished I was on one of those shuttle flights. Hell, I still wish that nowadays.

Watching the shuttle go up was absolutely awesome, and I can still FEEL the smile I had while I watched. Unfortunately 73 seconds into the flight, my smile disappeared and this state of confusion just hit me. After a while the realization of what we were seeing set in to all of us. I felt a profound sadness I never remember feeling before that day. One that still resonates with me today when I think about the Challenger explosion. Over time I have learned that death is a part of life and have fully accepted that, but part of my innocence vanished in an instant that day. I like to say that I will never fully grow up, because I am just a big kid at heart, but looking back on it today, it sure seems as if that was the first big step I took toward being a grown up.

I was nine years old when the Challenger exploded. My father was a day away from turning 14 when Kennedy was shot. The times I have heard him talk about that always sounded a whole lot like what I felt watching the Challenger 25 years ago. I guess I am not so different from my old man as I would choose to believe....but that is something you'll never hear me complain about.