A Bad Day At Black Rock …
posted in General |A BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK
I clearly remember that classic 1950s Spencer Tracy movie and the title that became a term of folklore for a couple of generations. If it is a bummer and all goes wrong, it is a “bad day at black rock”
I was awakened this morning by our little dog with a cold nose on my arm and a little woof that meant “It is time for my pre-breakfast walk, and I am hungry”. By the time I had dressed, the early reports of the Columbia tragedy were on TV. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because it is hard not to expect the worst when something goes wrong in a small capsule traveling at 17,000 miles per hour at 200,000 feet above the earth in an immediate environment of incinerating heat. Within an hour the tragedy was confirmed — that the Columbia had disintegrated and the 7 crewmen did not survive. However, the extent of the tragedy did not hit home until the portrait of the 7 was shown — 7 real people whose lives were snuffed out in a matter of seconds or minutes. That really got to me. Here were seven highly intelligent, well educated quality people with so much to offer — all gone. No body ever said that life was fair, but it shouldn’t be that unfair.
A few days ago I sat in the familty room and watched thugs and hooligans trash the streets of Oakland because the Raiders lost in the Super Bowl. The week before, these same dimwits trashed the streets when the Raiders won and qualified for the Super Bowl. I thought then that we would all be better off if a big tidal wave washed them all out to sea — one way. Keeping this sad bunch is not a very good trade for the Astronauts we lost this morning.
Will the space program continue? Sure, as long as space is out there, courageous people will visit and explore. And they will do so with the full knowledge of the dangers involved. Some people will say that they died doing what they wanted to do, but that really understates the tragedy since these fine people will not be able to enjoy and share an entire generation of experiences with friends and family. As people age, they come to accept the inevitability of mortality — some stoically and some grudgingly. But they will die with a lifetime of memories — not one abruptly shortened in their primes.
There were two women among the seven. I guess in days of gender equality, that’s par for the course. But I must be an old male chauvinist because seeing the death of those two young women bothers me. I simply am not comfortable with mothers dying that way.
In thinking about this tragedy, I keep seeing the image of the portrait of the seven in their space suits flashing across my mind. I don’t think I will sleep very well tonite.
It was a bad day at black rock.