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The Crew of Columbia -- STS - 107

First Row: Rick D. Husband; William C.McCool; Michael P. Anderson; David M. Brown.
Second Row: Kalpana Chawla; Laurel B. S. Clark; Ilan Ramon (Israel).
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MOONRISE IN MY REARVIEW MIRROR

(For all our Astronauts)


Night has fallen on Highway 101,
as I drive the coast near Santa Barbara;
I'm driving home from another Air Show,
as moonlight shimmers on the water.
Light shines into the cab of my truck,
above the fog its ascent becomes clearer;
men walked on it twenty-eight years to this day,
I watch the moonrise in my rear view mirror.

I was born unto the Fabulous Fifties,
and though Hiroshima reached out for me;
I would listen to the air raid sirens,
ever so small with no place to flee.
As Sputniks flew over Los Angeles,
homes were few and the sky was dark;
Russian lights were among my first memories,
like the fallout shelters near the park.

As a kid you have all sorts of heroes,
and mine wore an astronaut's wings;
Gus Grissom was to fly Project Mercury,
accepting the risks that spaceflight would bring.
One of seven to challenge the "New Frontier",
carrying the torch beyond the blue into space;
Gus was the second to "light the candle",
his life thus volunteered to the race.

For Space was both daring and dangerous,
when Glenn made his orbital flight;
my teacher charting the voyage he took;
over blue globe with her red pen light.
Weeks before we had listened on the radio,
Kruschev and Kennedy wore their iron gloves;
one moment we waited on their nuclear bombs,
the next--we were laughing at "Strangelove!"

That's my recollection of how it all started,
the Space Program's fascination for me;
I loved NASA, Tang and Gus Grissom,
when Project Gemini then came to be.
I was nine years old wrapped up in blankets,
had mom wake me up before three;
half-asleep on a couch in California,
watching "Cronkite from Cape Kennedy!"

I still remember those silvery missiles,
sleek Titans with their capsules on top;
where astronauts sat cramped in the cockpit,
counting down "T-minus Ten" on the clock.
Chris Kraft speaking from Mission Control,
praying for them from my own "pilot's seat";
three thousand miles from point of ignition,
anxiously awaiting their glorious feats.

Ho!  Missile now thundering skyward,
fiery arrow seeking altitudes afar;
my hero rode command of Gemini Three,
strapped to a rocket enroute to the stars!
Two men would stand as leaders that day,
followed later by their brothers eighteen;
four met at the first Space rendezvous,
Star Voyagers at the crossroads of the free.

Historians look back at Project Gemini,
as the "Hat in the Ring" we once tossed;
in a race to the moon and the stars beyond,
borne by a nation unconcerned with the cost.
Thus Project Apollo was now upon us,
and the day that nation would cry;
I wasn't the only who lost his hero,
that morning three astronauts died.

Ed White came home to West Point.
Gus Grissom bore his flag to Arlington
close to him rests young Roger Chafee.
Fitting for two that died friends.
The Moon still shined down in earnest,
and our nation awoke to a new dawn;
Apollo Seven carried our prayers and dreams,
and that torch for their brothers now gone.

Come...Borman, Lovell and Anders,
ride high above the Moon's lunarscape;
see Mares and Craters there for you,
prove Einstein's Theories...Apollo Eight!
Speak of Genesis to the souls in your window,
see earthrise o'er the great gray gloom;
blue marble alone on a sea of black,
spending its Christmas with you 'round the moon...

Great were the gifts of crews Nine and Ten,
manned missions far above earth and moon;
testing that "spider" that would land the brave,
or leave our Space Program in ruin.
Apollo Eleven and the Summer of Sixty-nine,
ounces of fuel nearly ran you too low;
found safe harbor on a Sea of Tranquility,
descended the ladder to the surface below.

"One small step for a man..." from Ohio,
Apollo Eleven's "Giant Leap for Mankind;"
you carried our flag to the surface of the moon,
found glory only true eagles find!
Gambled your lives for the contents of boxes,
mere rocks containing secrets of life?
Journeyed peacefully across the vaccum of space,
while we sought out war and its strife.

Apollo Twelve reached again Moon's suface,
warring world ignored the acts of its best;
'til an explosion aboard Apollo Thirteen,
gave Lovell...Sweigart...Haise their test.
We prayed to God for their safe recovery,
praised the Lord when three chutes appeard;
watched Shephard play golf on Frau Mauro,
then came the day their thunder disappeared.

One hundred miles or one hundred million,
a mystery why such journeys are made?
no more mystery than what hides from me now,
revealed once again atop Nojoqui Grade.
Moonglow floods the valley below me,
a fullness against the sky so golden;
beautiful Mares tell men "Sojourn forward!"
Mountains' mysteries call all so emboldened!

On the gray 'scape he wore a pressure suit,
his eyes piercing this Sea of Tranquility;
like those before him--he wouldn't be the last,
others would follow his ladder into history.
A mystery why I celebrate pioneers such as these?
T'was they who answered Destiny's calling;
for those who risked far distant shores--for me,

I celebrate Neil Armstrong!  Edwin Aldrin!  Michael Collins!

--Bear

Apollo 1

From Left to Right: Virgil I. "Gus" Grissom; Edward H. White II; Roger B. Chaffee
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The Crew of Challenger -- STS 51L

Top Row: Francis R. "Dick" Scobee; Michael J. Smith; Judith A. Resnik; Ellison S. Onizuka.
Second Row: Ronald E. McNair; Gregory B. Jarvis; S. Christa C. McAuliffe.
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