Robert Hanley, who had worked so closely with Columbia’s crew, said, “It caused me to look long and hard at my life, my career, and where I was headed. It taught me that when you get knocked down, you have to get up and keep working hard. Bad things happen. You deal with them and keep going. You need to take time and cry, and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with grieving. It needs to happen and you can’t do it alone.”
Citizens of East Texas had a unique opportunity to work with and get to know individual astronauts, and they were impressed at their commitment and their humanity. Texas Forest Service air coordinator “Boo” Walker said, “We had one meeting where I was probably the only one at the table who wasn’t an astronaut. A question came up and everyone looked at me and said, ‘What do you recommend?’ These people will listen to you. They might not always agree with you, but they truly want to hear your opinion.”
Cecil Paul Mott, Hemphill’s electrical supervisor, said, “We learned that these people we see on television climbing into rockets are more than just faces. Now you think of the fragility and the humanity of what’s out there. These people, like the explorers of our past, endured what they did so that we can walk where we’re walking today.”
Greg Cohrs wrote, “I feel a special connection to the crew and to NASA. I will carry that until the day I die. I am very thankful that God allowed us to recover the crew, as I know I would have been tormented until my passing had we not recovered the entire crew.”4
The FBI’s Terry Lane said, “Joshua 1:9—the verse that Rick Husband read to his crew before the mission—became the watchword for the whole recovery. ‘Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.’ After Columbia, I made several trips to Iraq and Afghanistan for the FBI. I had a dog tag made up with that Scripture. I had it with me every time I went over there.”
Marsha Cooper of the US Forest Service said, “It made me realize how much amazing love is really there. I never felt so much love for humans or mankind.”
—
The Columbia accident, with the loss of its seven crew members and the two searchers, was a profound tragedy, but many people felt that divine intervention prevented things from being worse than they were. Had Columbia disintegrated two or three minutes earlier, much of its debris would have fallen on Dallas and its suburbs, causing untold damage. A breakup a few seconds later would have sent some of the crew members’ remains into Toledo Bend Reservoir or the Gulf of Mexico, from which they would likely never have been recovered. If NASA had waved off the first landing attempt, Columbia could have fallen into downtown Houston on its next orbit.
Had the accident occurred in the spring or summer, the East Texas “Pine Curtain” would have been impenetrable because of the new growth of underbrush and briars. Heat, humidity, snakes, and alligators would have taken a toll on the searchers. Had the accident occurred during fire season rather than February, very few crews would have been available to assist with the search.
The citizens of East Texas feel the hand of divine providence in bringing Columbia and her crew to rest in their community. It afforded them the opportunity to “love thy neighbor” by comforting the NASA family in their time of grief.
One trusts that the residents of any region in America would have responded with the same grace, love, and dedication that the communities of Texas displayed.
No exact accounting was ever made of the number of Americans that helped NASA find Columbia and her crew, return them home, and reconstruct the orbiter from the debris. That would not have been possible, given the nature of the operation, the large number of agencies involved, and the number of volunteers who showed up to help for a few days or hours and then moved on. The consensus is that about twenty-five thousand Americans were involved in one way or another. Some stayed on through the entire duration of the effort, some for briefer periods. But all helped.
Everyone agrees on two remarkable facts: The Columbia recovery was the largest ground search effort in American history; and it was also one with no internal strife, bickering, or inter-agency squabbles. Everyone involved had a single goal and worked collectively to achieve it—to bring Columbia and her crew home.
It was as true at KSC as it was in East Texas—acquaintances became friends; friends became good friends; and good friends became close for life. The experience changed the lives of the astronaut families and friends in unimaginable ways. It also changed the twenty-five-thousand-person team.
It made me a better launch director and, I’d like to think, a better person too. It made me appreciate it more when people sought me out for advice and guidance, so I opened up a little bit more. I had a much deeper appreciation for the astronauts and the risks of spaceflight. This served me well over the final twenty-two shuttle missions, by making me dig even deeper before giving that final “Go” on launch day. It became my habit to look out the windows of the Launch Control Center at the shuttle on the launchpad and think about my friends who were about to take an incredible risk. Was I truly ready to say, “Go”? Was I ready to commit them to an ultimately risky endeavor? During this “gut check”—the ultimate gut check—Rick Husband and his crew, and the crew’s families, were always with me in the decision. How could I ask another crew to go and not think about them? They were instinctively part of every launch decision.
The recovery of Columbia’s crew and the ship’s debris changed the good people of East Texas as well. NASA was now part of their families, and they were part of the NASA family. Astronauts were no longer just faces on a TV screen. They were real people with whom the citizens had worked selflessly side by side—real men and women with families and loved ones who bore tremendous sacrifices so that America could accomplish its goals in space. And one of their beloved citizens and his pilot had given their lives to help NASA find Columbia.
They, and all the thousands of people from across the United States who participated in the recovery, need to know NASA will forever be in their debt and will always admire their selflessness.
The good people of Columbia’s recovery and reconstruction individually and collectively rose above all reasonable expectations. They succeeded in ways outwardly observable and only inwardly known.
All of them—all twenty-five thousand men, women, and children—are American heroes.
EPILOGUE
I feel honored to be asked to write the epilogue for Bringing Columbia Home. This is a book that needed to be written, and I am so glad it is here. It tells the true story of an epic undertaking. Out of disaster came passion and meaning. People came together to search for Columbia, in part due to their sorrow for the loss of the crew, and in part due to their devotion to the mission of space exploration. This story also gives us a chance to reflect and to ask ourselves why we explore.
I would never want to relive that terrible Saturday morning of February 1, 2003. My crew and I were five weeks from launch and completely immersed in our own upcoming mission preparation when we lost Columbia. All of a sudden, our mission became displaced and distant. I immediately found myself thinking of each Columbia crew member, my last time spent with each of them, their families, and their future plans that would now never happen.
While the Space Shuttle Program immediately activated its contingency action plan, my crew focused on assisting the Columbia families, the accident investigation, and eventually the return-to-flight effort. We were called into entirely different roles than the ones for which we were training. Pilots and mission specialists became family assistance officers, Shuttle Program representatives, and even public spokespersons. I did not see my pilot Jim Kelly for three months while he served as the family assistance officer for Laurel Clark’s family. Steve Robinson likewise aided Mike Anderson’s family. Steve eventually redesigned our patch to honor the STS-107 crew. Andy Thomas wrote a beautiful memorial to the Columbia crew, which was downlinked when our mission eventually flew. Our message was that
we needed to continue Columbia’s mission of exploration.
The Columbia crew’s mission gave them the chance to fulfill their dreams. It was an opportunity to fly to space, have an adventure, visit microgravity, live and work in a totally new and unusual environment, experience a feeling and freedom that you cannot possibly simulate on the surface, look down on our beautiful planet, push yourself to achieve the mission’s challenging goals, and be part of a team with a meaningful vision.
That vision included understanding the universe we live in, the human body, the possibilities of new technologies, our Earth’s natural processes, the secrets of our neighboring planets, and the mysteries of deep space. The Columbia crew was taking baby steps, but great missions begin with small steps—learning steps. They were passionate about their mission. Passion, like risk, is a part of any great quest.
I often tell my children that generations pass and centuries pass, but it seems that the sense of curiosity in people does not change. Sure, our environment changes and technology changes, but people are still human. We still carry the spirit and adventure of those we read about in history, the Bible, the Greek plays, the discoveries of Columbus, and the exploration of the Americas. Likewise, astronauts love to explore, and they feel very confident, focused, and determined about it. I believe exploring and taking risks will be around for a long time.
I would like to share a brief memory of each of the Columbia astronauts. Rick was a man that any astronaut would want as their commander. He was wise and charismatic. People often praised his beautiful singing voice. Willie was so proud of his children! I remember the day he stopped in my office to show me his son’s artwork. Laurel and I had many conversations about the challenges of being both a mom and an astronaut. Mike was also a family man, and he always seemed to have a smile on his face, especially when he was going out to fly the T-38. Ilan often asked me to fly with him in the T-38. He was very humble and quiet, and clearly dedicated to his family. I wish I had gotten to know him better. KC and I worked together in the simulator, trying to solve the sneaky problems presented to us by the training team. She had such a calm and logical way about her. And Dave was an optimist. No matter how tough a problem he faced, Dave was a man of ideas and solutions.
It is still difficult for those of us who knew them to remember them now, as we miss their being physically here with us. But as time passes, I believe we should recall the happiness they brought to the people in their lives. We should celebrate their spirit and their love of space exploration. While I grieved over the loss of our friends, Evelyn Husband would remind me of a quote from Proverbs 3:5: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”
My respect and thanks go out to those who designed, built, operated, and maintained the shuttle. Several technicians at Kennedy Space Center remarked to me that the loss of Columbia was in some ways like the loss of a family member. I know that they grieved her loss. Columbia was the flagship of the fleet. I had the privilege of commanding my third mission on Columbia in 1999 when my crew deployed the Chandra X-ray Observatory. So I completely understand it when I hear how the folks at KSC felt. They raised and nurtured Columbia throughout her lifetime.
The space shuttle was an amazing and versatile ship. Despite two tragedies, its successes were manifest. It was an engineering marvel. The shuttle was a test program, but it achieved its ultimate goal, which was to assemble the International Space Station. Other accomplishments of the shuttle include learning about the human body, in-space technologies, our planet, and deep space. We have inspired over thirty years of students to study math, science, and engineering. We worked very productively with people from many other countries, on many different levels. People of very diverse backgrounds came together on the shuttle.
The Columbia crew embodied the benefits of diversity. They were adventurers, explorers, and role models. How fortunate they were to have had the opportunity to experience a whole new world. Unfortunately, we will never be able to thank them for their contributions to the great journey of human discovery.
Of course, the Columbia and Challenger accidents have reminded us we need to be ever vigilant. Despite more than two years of careful work to prevent foam shedding from the shuttle’s external tank, my STS-114 mission lost a large piece of foam on ascent, in a circumstance very similar to what happened to Columbia on STS-107. Preventing foam loss was a top objective of the return-to-flight effort, and while this turned out to be an embarrassment, I believe it sent a clear message—future boosters and spacecraft should be designed to protect the ship’s reentry system (the heatshield), because rockets will always shed “stuff” like insulation and ice during the tumultuous minutes of ascent to orbit. This is why we will see future spacecraft designed with the reentry ship on top of the rocket, rather than beside it, as was the case with the space shuttle. The STS-114 incident was a very sobering reminder that a complex system like the shuttle can never be made completely safe, despite everyone’s best efforts. Our future space travelers will be safer due to the lessons learned from the shuttle missions.
I must close by expressing my heartfelt thanks to the many thousands of people who worked tirelessly in East Texas. Because of their focus, passion, and long hours, we were able to recover enough of Columbia to determine the cause of the accident and return the shuttle to flight. I experienced their work firsthand when my crew visited the search areas several times, and we even assisted with a search. Soichi Noguchi from my crew found a piece of tile. We were proud to share in the efforts, but we primarily wanted to meet the people and get a feeling of what they were enduring in this difficult search. They worked under emotional stress, time constraints, cold winter weather, and changing scenarios. They completed their unprecedented mission—never had there been a search effort of this magnitude. Due to their efforts, the shuttle returned to flight, and the Space Station was completed.
So I say to all those who took part in the search effort: you too have made an important contribution to space exploration. I thank you personally, and I thank you on behalf of the Shuttle Program. Your story has now been told, and you can be proud of your role in the great journey of human discovery.
Col. Eileen Collins, USAF, Retired
Pilot, STS-63 and STS-84
Commander, STS-93 and STS-114
AUTHORS’ NOTES AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
February 1, 2018, marks the fifteenth anniversary of the Columbia accident. Merely counting the years is not in itself a sufficient justification for writing a book. However, the passage of a decade and a half does offer an opportunity to tell such an important story about American courage, compassion, and commitment while firsthand accounts are still available.
Because of the vast number of people involved in preparing Columbia for launch, searching for the crew and the debris of the vehicle, and reconstructing the shuttle, it was impossible for us to include all the stories of heartbreak, heroics, and selfless acts that we heard during our research for this book. Likewise, we deliberately pared back our technical discussions to make this book accessible to a broader audience. And we had to omit some material purely in the interest of producing a book that people could pick up without a forklift.
The authors maintain a blog at www.bringingcolumbiahome.com. Our regular posts supplement this book’s chapters, and we include many more photographs than we could fit into the book. There are also links to related sites, videos, and other material to explore for people interested in Columbia and the Space Shuttle Program. The blog affords readers the opportunity to share their own memories of Columbia and to interact with the authors. We welcome your comments and hope that you will contribute to the recorded history of this remarkable time.
To the citizens of all of the communities throughout Texas and Louisiana where the Columbia’s debris came down: We hope that you will understand that space limitations and the need to tell a coherent story may have led us to say less about your particular county’s contributions than we should
have. Every person in Texas and Louisiana who was part of the recovery effort deserves to be proud of his or her accomplishment. Please know the NASA family is forever in your debt.
We recognize that government contractors did much of the heavy lifting in the recovery and reconstruction. For the sake of brevity, when we discuss a particular agency performing a function, we intend the reference to include both civil servants and the contractors who acted on behalf of that agency. Thus, a reference to “NASA personnel” may imply NASA employees as well as staff from United Space Alliance, Boeing, and other contractors who were working side by side with the civil servants. The transparent, “badgeless” environment that existed during this operation was one of the keys to its success.
Two fellows cannot write a book about twenty-five thousand Americans without a lot of help. We would like to take this opportunity to thank a number of people whose assistance and encouragement made this book possible.
First, we owe our collaboration on this book to the inimitable Norm Carlson, chief NASA test director during the first part of the shuttle era. Norm passed away on March 1, 2015. Mike and Jonathan met for the first time at Norm’s memorial service. We decided to go to lunch together and get to know each other better. At that first lunch, Mike said, “I always threatened to write a book about Columbia.” Jonathan said, “If you wanted to collaborate, I’d be glad to work with you.” And the rest, as they say, is history. We’re grateful to Norm, who brought us together, and whose memory constantly inspires us.
Greg Cohrs was as dedicated to helping this book succeed as he was to ensuring the success of the Columbia recovery effort. His technical assistance, his keen memory, his eye for detail, and his affable demeanor made him an incredible collaborator. We were proud to shine the spotlight on this wonderful man.
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