No Dream Is Too High - Buzz Aldrin Page 0,34
(EST). As I watched the return coverage on television, I noticed that the radio transmissions from the shuttle suddenly fell silent. That was highly unusual. Ordinarily, there are almost continuous communications back and forth between the ground and the returning spacecraft. Instinctively, I knew that was bad news. Within minutes, all the major television networks broadcast what I feared: The Columbia had blown apart.
Actually, the catastrophe was much worse than a normal plane crash. Apparently, the shuttle had been damaged shortly after launch when a piece of foam insulation broke off from the main propellant tank, striking the left wing and damaging Columbia’s thermal insulation system, which protects it from temperatures of 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit generated during reentry. Consequently, almost immediately after the Columbia reentered Earth’s atmosphere, the shuttle began to break apart and disintegrate as it streaked above Texas, spreading bits and pieces of debris across Texas, Arkansas, and Louisiana. All seven crew members died in the catastrophe.
I was deeply grieved by the shuttle accidents. I’ve often wondered if I could have made a difference had I voiced my concerns over certain elements of the program. Could I have saved the lives of our astronauts had I spoken up in stronger terms? I was confident in my positions; I felt strongly that I was right, but I didn’t want to rock the boat. So I went with the flow, gave in to the consensus of opinion, shut my mouth—well, as much as I could—and remained politically correct. Following the shuttle accidents, I made a promise to myself that I would never make that sort of mistake again. If I feel strongly about a matter—especially one that could make the difference between life and death—I am going to speak up, loudly and often.
AFTER I SPENT SOME TIME AS commander at the test pilot school in California, I decided to get back to what I loved—thinking about and designing mission plans that would help NASA recover after the two shuttle accidents. I felt strongly that instead of simply flying missions to the International Space Station, we should continue exploration programs.
As devastating as the space shuttle accidents were, as a nation and as individuals, we had to get back on our feet and begin moving forward again. Eventually, we finished the space station, eliminated the orbiter, and moved to dependence on others to let us hitch a ride up to the orbiting lab that many dedicated American engineers had created and that millions of American tax dollars had financed. Although exploration has continued, our progress has slowed significantly, but I have hope that with a new generation of space enthusiasts coming along, we will soon be going where no one has ever gone before, and we will have learned from our tragic past failures.
Have you ever seen an eagle react when a storm comes up? To escape the tumult, an eagle will purposely fly higher until it is above the turbulence. For an eagle, storms, setbacks, or failures are simply opportunities to go to a higher level. In the same way, you cannot allow the storms of life to hold you down or cause you to live in fear. Usually, fear—especially fear of failure—is the greatest enemy keeping you from getting where you want to go. Fear paralyzes in many ways, but especially if it keeps you from responding wisely and intelligently to challenges. The only way to overcome your fears is to face them head-on.
Just because you face your fears, however, doesn’t mean you won’t mess up. I discovered that the hard way when I received an invitation from a friend to speak at a gala fundraiser for an animal rights and rescue group in London. I fretted about it and whined to Christina that I really didn’t have a message for such a group.
“Of course, you do,” Christina said. “Just tell them about how much your family has always enjoyed animals.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I accepted the invitation.
As background to this story, you need to know that my life has been full of all kinds of interactions with animals. From its inception, NASA was known for rigorous training of its astronauts, but beginning with the Gemini program, the preparation program became more extensive. Not only did we have to study aerodynamics, physics, geology, astronomy, and navigation, and practice exercises designed to simulate weightlessness, but we prepared as much as we could for every possible scenario we might encounter in space and upon landing. We spent long hours practicing for