High Flight

I heard about the loss of the Columbia while driving back from an art exhibit in which my niece's work was featured. Sheila and I had the kids in the backseat and we were all being very silly and singing along loudly to the song on the radio. Funny, I can't remember the song now. It finished and the announcer came on, remarking on the sad events of the day, reporting that the space shuttle Columbia had disintegrated in the skies above Texas and all the astronauts were lost.

I've been struggling since then with how to address the tragedy on this page. I offer my deepest condolences to the families and loved ones of the astronauts, and I hope that the knowledge that they died in the brave pursuit of a better world for all of us will help to alleviate some of their profound sadness. I won't, however, offer prayers for the souls of the lost - the seven brave men and women of Columbia do not need my help in that area. Instead, I will fall back on the tried and true. I dedicate the poem entitled "High Flight", written by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr. during WWII, and my gratitude, to the Columbia Seven.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds--and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of--wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence, hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along,
And flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.