RangerWickett
Legend
You're my community of friends, and so I feel comfortable here expressing myself when I'm troubled or saddened. The tragedy Saturday with space shuttle Columbia only really set in for me tonight, and so I needed to take some time to put my thoughts down in words.
After September 11th, 2001, . . . it was a Tuesday, I remember. I woke up for class at 10am, and for some reason decided to check the messageboards before I left for Japanese. And that's how I found out about what had happened, from the people here, and soon thereafter on television.
Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day, and there also were no classes at my college on either Wednesday or Thursday. For about a week I was fairly shiftless. I remember sitting and playing an old Tomb Raider game on Dreamcast as the only thing I could really get up the energy to do. I went back to the normal cycle of classes on Friday, and didn't really face what had happened.
Then the next week, on Thursday, I had my creative writing seminar, which only met once a week. It was a science fiction and fantasy creative writing class, a rare opportunity that I'd been looking forward to, but we'd only had one or two chances to actually meet that year before September 11th.
My professor, Jim Grimsley (he's published a few fantasy novels), started class by saying that he'd had a week to think over what had happened, and to consider what impact it would have on science fiction. In most futuristic visions of America, I recall him saying, the world trade center was something of a focal point, an icon of the corporate, technological world. He almost couldn't imagine a few stories he'd read without it.
That got us started, and for about half an hour the entire class finally let loose our thoughts. I think the most important thing was that we shared where we'd been when we'd heard the news. I recall my mother and many other people saying that everyone could remember where they were when they learned Kennedy had been shot, and I felt that September 11th would be the same way, so it was somehow soothing to know that everyone had shared this tragedy, even if we'd all been in different places and heard about it at different times. Since then, I've not really felt . . . I don't really know how to put it. That unease and hollowness you feel when your world has changed and you don't know which way you'll go in the future. I felt better.
So now I wanted to share my thoughts about the Columbia shuttle disaster, in hopes that I'll be able to feel better again. It's not as great a shock as what happened a year and a half ago, but still, I need to talk about my feelings.
Um, I wrote a letter to the president, and now that I think I've found an email address to send it to, I'm going to mail it. I think it sums up my feelings and my concerns. Writing's the best way I can come to terms with problems, so here it is.
Dear Mr. President (or to whomever reads this),
I'm originally from Beaumont, TX, about 70 miles from Houston and Clear Lake. When I was in high school in 1999, I regularly visited NASA as part of the Texas Fly High program, and spent a week there that March, culminating on a flight on the KC-135, NASA's zero-gravity simulation plane, on which we tested a work bench designed to be used on the International Space Station. I got to meet several astronauts and other NASA personnel, and though I did not personally know any of the astronauts who died on Saturday, I do feel close to the space program, and so I want to ask that you keep in mind the needs of our nation's and our world's future as you face decisions concerning how NASA may have to change its mission as a result of the tragedy.
As a Christian, I have to pray that the deaths of the seven astronauts are part of God's plan, and so I wonder if He wants to remind us how important is the exploration beyond our safe homeland of Earth. Our lives are all so short that often we don't want to think of them as part of humanity's grand history, don't want to step beyond where we stand, don't want to risk the brief safety of our lives for some dream we may never see. But the American spirit, and the spirit of all heroes of the world, is not content with security. The heroic spirit leads men to found nations where freedom and imagination can prosper, inspires us to march for equality when most people simply try not to mind injustices. The spirit of heroism is what has made it possible for us to look back on history and be proud of our forefathers.
As a patriot, devoted not just to the safety of my nation but to the strength and unity of all the people of the world, I must also pray that momentary, selfish worries do not distract us from looking upward to the future. We Americans in general are willing to give a little to help make the nation stronger. We don't do it because we think it will make us safer, but because we want to see our dreams to be fulfilled, to be part of something historic. Because what concern is a tax now next to a future that our families will be able to look back on and be proud?
The truth is that our explorations are important; the research done by NASA and other world space agencies have helped us in numerous ways here on Earth. If nothing else, that should be enough reason not to waver on a commitment to exploring space, because it is logical for the prosperity of our people. But even more important, we should remember that America has been built on millions of dreams. Spreading humanity beyond our own frail world is one great dream that we have neglected of late. May the loss of seven of our heroes remind us not to forget it.
Sincerely,
Ryan Nock
Author
Class of 2004
Emory University
Atlanta, GA
After September 11th, 2001, . . . it was a Tuesday, I remember. I woke up for class at 10am, and for some reason decided to check the messageboards before I left for Japanese. And that's how I found out about what had happened, from the people here, and soon thereafter on television.
Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day, and there also were no classes at my college on either Wednesday or Thursday. For about a week I was fairly shiftless. I remember sitting and playing an old Tomb Raider game on Dreamcast as the only thing I could really get up the energy to do. I went back to the normal cycle of classes on Friday, and didn't really face what had happened.
Then the next week, on Thursday, I had my creative writing seminar, which only met once a week. It was a science fiction and fantasy creative writing class, a rare opportunity that I'd been looking forward to, but we'd only had one or two chances to actually meet that year before September 11th.
My professor, Jim Grimsley (he's published a few fantasy novels), started class by saying that he'd had a week to think over what had happened, and to consider what impact it would have on science fiction. In most futuristic visions of America, I recall him saying, the world trade center was something of a focal point, an icon of the corporate, technological world. He almost couldn't imagine a few stories he'd read without it.
That got us started, and for about half an hour the entire class finally let loose our thoughts. I think the most important thing was that we shared where we'd been when we'd heard the news. I recall my mother and many other people saying that everyone could remember where they were when they learned Kennedy had been shot, and I felt that September 11th would be the same way, so it was somehow soothing to know that everyone had shared this tragedy, even if we'd all been in different places and heard about it at different times. Since then, I've not really felt . . . I don't really know how to put it. That unease and hollowness you feel when your world has changed and you don't know which way you'll go in the future. I felt better.
So now I wanted to share my thoughts about the Columbia shuttle disaster, in hopes that I'll be able to feel better again. It's not as great a shock as what happened a year and a half ago, but still, I need to talk about my feelings.
Um, I wrote a letter to the president, and now that I think I've found an email address to send it to, I'm going to mail it. I think it sums up my feelings and my concerns. Writing's the best way I can come to terms with problems, so here it is.
Dear Mr. President (or to whomever reads this),
I'm originally from Beaumont, TX, about 70 miles from Houston and Clear Lake. When I was in high school in 1999, I regularly visited NASA as part of the Texas Fly High program, and spent a week there that March, culminating on a flight on the KC-135, NASA's zero-gravity simulation plane, on which we tested a work bench designed to be used on the International Space Station. I got to meet several astronauts and other NASA personnel, and though I did not personally know any of the astronauts who died on Saturday, I do feel close to the space program, and so I want to ask that you keep in mind the needs of our nation's and our world's future as you face decisions concerning how NASA may have to change its mission as a result of the tragedy.
As a Christian, I have to pray that the deaths of the seven astronauts are part of God's plan, and so I wonder if He wants to remind us how important is the exploration beyond our safe homeland of Earth. Our lives are all so short that often we don't want to think of them as part of humanity's grand history, don't want to step beyond where we stand, don't want to risk the brief safety of our lives for some dream we may never see. But the American spirit, and the spirit of all heroes of the world, is not content with security. The heroic spirit leads men to found nations where freedom and imagination can prosper, inspires us to march for equality when most people simply try not to mind injustices. The spirit of heroism is what has made it possible for us to look back on history and be proud of our forefathers.
As a patriot, devoted not just to the safety of my nation but to the strength and unity of all the people of the world, I must also pray that momentary, selfish worries do not distract us from looking upward to the future. We Americans in general are willing to give a little to help make the nation stronger. We don't do it because we think it will make us safer, but because we want to see our dreams to be fulfilled, to be part of something historic. Because what concern is a tax now next to a future that our families will be able to look back on and be proud?
The truth is that our explorations are important; the research done by NASA and other world space agencies have helped us in numerous ways here on Earth. If nothing else, that should be enough reason not to waver on a commitment to exploring space, because it is logical for the prosperity of our people. But even more important, we should remember that America has been built on millions of dreams. Spreading humanity beyond our own frail world is one great dream that we have neglected of late. May the loss of seven of our heroes remind us not to forget it.
Sincerely,
Ryan Nock
Author
Class of 2004
Emory University
Atlanta, GA
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