Today marks the 25th anniversary of the Space Shuttle Challenger
Tragedy. I can't believe it has been 25 years.
Like when the first reports came in from New York City on 911, most people can remember where they were when the Space Shuttle exploded on that clear blue winter mid-morning.
I was at the Baptist Student Union on the campus of the University of Louisville. I had just finished eating an early lunch with friends there and was heading to a class. The TV was on and students were lounging around, when the news cut in to regular programming to watch the launch. (Do you remember when they used to cut in to regular programming anytime the President spoke or when a rocket launched?) We all watched the Shuttle successfully clear the launch pad and head up towards their destination and mission. Suddenly, it exploded into a cloud of smoke. I remember being stunned and everyone was silent. The Ping Pong games stopped. The talking ceased, suddenly the four couches in front of the wall mounted TV were filled with college students in shock.
After an hour or so we walked into the chapel and had a time of prayer.
I can't remember it has been 25 years.