A long time ago, I did an internship at Johnson Space Center. I had a chance to meet astronauts and hang out with �rocket scientists.� I had a great time. This was post-Challenger. And it's so hard to describe the mood at the time. It sounds so cliche � "Everyone there is family." But it's true. And the relationship between the engineers and the astronauts is as complicated as the love and rivalry between siblings. I wince when I think of the scrutiny over the coming months to which the NASA engineers will be subject, even as they grieve. And I know in my heart that if there were any way to save Columbia's crew, they'd have broken their backs trying.

This one was composed in 1941 by a 19-year-old pilot as he flew over England. He was killed soon after while serving with the Royal Canadian Air force.

High Flight
By John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

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, the long, delirious, burning blue
I�ve topped the windswept 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.

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