Sunday, January 23, 2011

It's been 25 years (Friday) since the Challenger exploded during take off for space with what would have been the first teacher to enter the Final Frontier.

Crazy to think there are grown adults that weren't even born when this occurred. Much like those who experienced the Kennedy assassinations, before I was born, I recall exactly the time and place I was when this occurred.

We were watching the event unfold live in 2nd period French class at Tempe High. We all carelessly watch the countdown and seconds of airtime while we passed notes, held private corner conversations, or doodled on the cover of our notebooks. Then suddenly, every one of us were silent and stunned with complete disbelief.

Rubbing our eyes and dazed - we witnessed a tragedy. Almost immediately after watching the catastrophy, the loudspeaker came on and announced what we already knew.

It was powerful for me, for some reason. It always affected me - the idea of soaring for that dream and then in an instant - gone - nothing. No fanfare, no goodbye, no closure. Still amazes me, 25 years later.

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