The Challenger. Twenty Nine Years Ago Today.

[Atticus Finch]

Twenty-nine years ago today the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded seventy-three seconds after being launched from Cape Canaveral. The Challenger's pilot was Michael Smith, and he was born and raised in my home town.

Michael’s family lived near the Beaufort Airport. They still do. In the early fifties, when Michael was a kid, the Beaufort airport was a quiet, general aviation field. Carteret County had purchased it from the US Government at the end of WWII, and it was almost unused except for a small administration building, a part-time FBO and several ramshackle hangers. A few local guys, mostly former military pilots, frequented the airport on weekends. They would shoot the breeze and bum airplane rides whenever they could…just trying to stay close to aviation.

My father was one of those guys.

Michael Smith’s love for flying began at an early age. Long before he was old enough to drive, he’d walk to the airport just so he could hang around with people who were messing with airplanes. He’d hop rides with Dad, Johnny Betts, Charlie Velines or anyone else who was flying and had an empty seat. Pretty soon, he was taking lessons from Bob Burroughs who was one of the few pilots in Beaufort who could afford to own his own plane. Michael also flew with Dick Rodd, the airport FBO, who was a retired Marine Corps pilot with two wars and a zillion hours under his belt. I like to think that Maj. Rodd was who influenced Michael to apply to Annapolis and pursue a military career. And pursue a military career he did. It was a distinguished career that led Michael from flight school to Vietnam and eventually into the United States Astronaut program.

I'll never forget that morning. When I saw the explosion on TV, I immediately called Dad and asked if that was the launch that Michael Smith was flying. His answer was a quiet "yes". Not knowing what to say, I asked there was a chance that the crew had survived. There was a pause that let me know how ridiculous was my question, and then a simple "No". Then Dad told me that Bob and Dick had driven down to the Cape for the launch. Michael had invited them because he believed, without them, he would have never accomplished all that he had. Michael was that kind of guy. Even though he was sitting on top of a huge rocket, being televised into every household in the country, in his mind he was still just a local kid, hanging around a county airport with a bunch of good old boy former fighter jocks.

AF

 

[Foxer55]

I was working at Northrop Aircraft Division in Los Angeles at the time and we all were shocked and concerned this was a portent of bad tidings for the industry because of the loss and cost of the shuttle. I was also going to school at West Coast University where one of the astronauts, Gregory B. Jarvis, was to get his Master's degree after just completing his thesis. He was apparently carrying his unsigned diploma aboard the shuttle and was to bring it back for official seal and signatures. His thesis and other works were placed on display in memoriam in the school library. And, as expected, this event was the leading edge of a crippling downturn for the industry along with enormous reductions in aerospace and defense spending - known as the Peace Dividend - which began long term, continuing, massive layoffs and closures in Southern California. I kind of view it as the end of California as it was previously known because the industry basically disappeared along with all of its jobs. I eventually wound up working on the Challenger replacement at Rockwell doing Forward Crew Module modifications on STS Endeavour which included newly attempted Crew Escape Systems. Endeavour cost the nation an easy Billion dollars which was considerable money in those days.