Introduction to Challenger Poem

The Challenger poem was written the day after the accident as an outlet for my grief.  I was stationed at Sunnyvale Air Force station in Sunnyvale, California, manning the operation center of our global satellite network.  The news came across our teletypes as I was conducting routine checks of our earth terminals.  The person on the other end wrote me that the Challenger just exploded.  I replied to them saying that was a terrible joke.  But the person insisted it was true.  I took a break to go check the news service that we had running in the other room.  There, on the large screen was the forked cloud that would be etched into all the minds of those who witnessed the accident.  I stood there horrified along with the rest of the squadron that sat and watched the launch.  No one said a word.  Our silence lingered in the air as long as the forked cloud lingered in the air.  Some of the telemetry data for the launches regularly came through our systems so we all felt a close kinship to the space program.  That day, it felt like a part of us died in that fiery explosion.  Some of us had to go home, as the scene was too much to handle.  Those of us that stayed to finish our shift stayed in deep silence as no words could express what we felt.  Ever since I was a young boy I had dreamed of being in the space program.  When I went home that evening I went home and cried.  The next day all the non-essential personnel were given time to grieve.  I wrote the Challenger poem to express and provide an outlet for my grief.  I shared it with others by submitting it to the base paper.  It caught the attention of our base chaplain and he used it during the base memorial services.  He wanted me to attend but I declined because I knew if I heard it read out loud I would’ve cried again.  Instead I held my own personal memorial service.  In full blues, standing at attention in the rain at the base flagpole, I saluted the flag and read my poem out loud.  Though it was only myself out in the rain, I knew I wasn’t alone.  The spirits of those that passed on were with me; it was my dedication to them.  I gave several copies of the poem out to my family and my grandmother put the poem to cross-stitch and gave it to me as a Christmas present.  The Air Force station is still in Sunnyvale, California, but it is now renamed in remembrance of Colonel Ellison Onizuka.  It is now called Onizuka Air Force base.

All images & contents copyright © G.A. Trammel 1992 - 2003