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70
the
LONG SHADOWof the SPACE SHUTTLEBy Laura Ann Mullane
Iwalk into the apartment
parking lot on a sweltering
July aternoon in eastcentral Florida. There I see
a large bus with the NASA
logo on it. Im in Cape Canaveral
or a amily vacation that happens
to coincide with a space shuttle
launch. Lit-o is scheduled in a
ew days, and I know without asking
that the amilies o the astronauts
are staying at the apartment block
too, and that the bus will take theamily to watch the launch. The
thought o it makes my stomach
sink back against my spine and a
wave o nausea roll up to my throat.
Although it has been 20 years
since Ive been the one boarding
that bus to go watch the shuttle
erry my ather into space th
separate times, I might as we
teenager again. All o a suddeeel the atigue rom the slee
nights and early mornings. I
eel my dry throat and the ne
that tangled my stomach. Al
sudden, it is once again my a
who will ride a plume o smo
re into outer space.
STORIES
Growing up as an astronauts daughter
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When I was seven years old, my
ather, Mike Mullane, was selected
to be an astronaut. It was 1978and NASA had just announced
the beginning o a new space
programme: the space shuttle
a reusable orbiter that would
be used to launch satellites and
conduct research and, ultimately,
help construct and supply the
International Space Station. They
needed astronauts and put out the
call or applicants. My ather, who
was 33, had spent his career in the
US Air Force ying in the backseat
o ghter jets.
He had dreamt o ying in space
since he saw the dot o light that was
the bus with my mother, brother
and sister, joining the other
amilies. As we drove, the June skyturned pink and the marshlands
that lined the road tried to shrug
o the thick haze that had settled
on them overnight.
The roads were lined with the
parked cars and beach chairs o
spectators who had camped outovernight to witness the launch.
Many cheered as we passed.
American ags ew rom car
antennas. Our bus bypassed the
trafc and was waved through
security checkpoints. All o it
made me eel or a moment like a
celebrity. O course, I wasnt. No
one knew who I was. No one even
knew who my dad was.
Astronauts had long lost the
celebrity status they enjoyed
Its hard to describe the feeling of waiting to watch
a person you love about to blast-off into space.
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and up steps to the roo o the
building, rom which we would
watch the launch.
Nine minutes had never taken
so long. I stood with my arms
locked through my mothers,
who was practically shaking.
Its hard to describe the eeling o
waiting to watch a person you love
about to blast-o into space. First,theres the sheer, unadulterated
excitement o witnessing an event
that eels larger than lie itsel.
The shuttle, even rom three miles
away, loomed over everything,
dwarng the landscape around
it. Vapours swirled at its base.
On the roo, speakers amplied
the countdown, which echoed
between the buildings. You sensed
that something big was about to
happen, something that couldnt be
contained, that didnt subscribe to
the laws o the universe.
But in addition to the
excitement, theres a paralysing
ear. I wasnt ully aware o this at
the age o 13, when mortality was
still abstract and death seemed
like something that happened to
other people. I didnt worry that
my dad would be killed on the
shuttle mission, even though my
ather had told us repeatedly about
the dangers. Strapping onesel
to the equivalent o a bomb
and being catapulted to a placewith no atmosphere was a risky
proposition. Still, I didnt believe
that anything bad would happen
to him not on a conscious level.
But on a subconscious one, I was
terried. Its what had kept me
up the night beore the launch,
pulling me into the bathroom with
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dry heaves that brought tears to
my eyes. Its what made me now
hold onto my moms arm so tightly
that she had to say, Laura, honey,
youre hurting me. Its what made
me sometimes imagine a uture
without my ather, with whom I
would swim and hike and stare up
at the stars. My ather, who would
bring home owers or my momand chocolates or my brother,
sister and me. This was the man I
might lose orever.
The countdown continued. Less
than one minute to lit-o. Things
were happening quickly now. The
announcer ticked o the status o
systems and the passing seconds in
quick succession. Hes really going,
I thought. This is really happening.
The nal countdown: T minus 10,
nine, eight we have a go or main
engine start seven, six, ve we
have main engine start A slight
rumbling. Smoke billowed at the
bottom o the orbiter. Hes really
going. Hes really going.
But then, nothing. Four seconds
to lit o and the engines shut
down. We have a cut o, the
announcer said. We have an abort
by the onboard computers.
I looked at my mother and then at
the rest o the people on the roo
the other amilies and a handul o
NASA brass and other astronauts.
Everyone was staring in disbelie.
What happened? I asked my
mom. I dont know. A loud boom
rumbled across the distance. What
was it? An ex plosion?
No, the shuttle was still there. It
was just the sound rom the initial
main engine start nally reaching
us. My mom and sister broke
down crying. My brother strained
to hear what the announcer was
saying over the loudspeaker. I just
stood there at a complete loss o
what to make o everything that
was happening. The act was, I
didnt know. No one did. Even my
dad sitting in the cockpit didnt
know. The computers had sensed
a problem and shut down the
engines. It wasnt until later that
we learnt about the re on the
launch pad, how my ather and
the other astronauts had sat or a
ew terriying seconds while they
wondered whether their rocket
would explode. All I knew was that
I wouldnt see my atner y into
space that day. It would be two
more months and more sleepless
nights beore I would once again
stand on the roo with my amily
and squeeze my moms arm and
hold my breath until the I heard
the words, We have lit-o, boom
across the loudspeakers. I would
eel the ground shake and hear
the deaening roar that rattled
my chest, and I would watch
the shuttle rise past the tower
dragging its re behind it. The
shuttleDiscoverywould carry my
ather into space and bring him
home saely again just as Id
always expected.
I didnt know then that coming
home saely wasnt a oregone
conclusion. A year and a hal later
as my dad trained or another
mission the shuttle Challenger
would begin its ascent into space,
only to be ripped apart when it
exploded 73 seconds ater lit-o.
The shuttle carried amily r iends,
including Judy Resnik, who had
own with my ather on Discovery.
It also carried the athers o several
o my high school classmates, one
o whom was in my year. We had
mutual riends but I didnt know
her beyond that. Ater her athers
uneral and her return to school, I
would avert my eyes when I wouldpass her in the hallway. Every time
I would see her I was remi nded
that I got to go home ater school
and eat dinner with my dad. I was
reminded that my ather would see
me graduate rom high school and
college and eventually marry and
have children. Her ather never
would. How could we possibly live
in a world that was so unair?
Our athers took the exact same
risks, yet mine survived and
hers didnt. It was an unbearably
painul awakening or a 15-year-
old girl this realisation that
death is random and heartache is
delivered with no regard or logic.
It also came with the awareness
that my ather would risk death
again. He didnt quit the shuttle
programme ater Challenger. In
act, he would y again twice. I
never wanted him to quit, nor did
my mom or brother or sister. We all
knew ying was in his blood.
He could abandon his desire to
y no more than a racehorse could
abandon its desire to run. It was the
essence o who he was. Yet each
time, I stood on that roo wondering
i Id see my ather again.
Today, my ather is 65 and an
accomplished author. He no longer
ies, instead sating his ambition by
climbing mountains. He oten says
he would never believe he ew in
space i he didnt have the pictures
to prove it the memories seem so
distant and impossible. I know how
he eels. I, too, look back on those
years in disbelie.
My dad joined NASA when I was
seven and let when I was 19 ater
his third shuttle mission. Virtually
every one o my ormative
years was spent in the
shadow o the space shuttle. Yet
when people ask me what it was
like to grow up as t he daughter o
an astronaut, I never know what
to say. It was both amazing and
terriying. But mostly, it was just
my childhood. It was the only
reality I knew.
As I near 40, Im just beginning
to understand how my dads career
shaped me. Its only now that Ive
realised how rare that singular
ocus is in most people. I was
raised by a man who knew rom
an early age what he wanted to
be and was able to become that.
That is what makes my upbringing
unique: not the act that my ather
ew into space, but that he was
able to achieve his dream.
I wonder now what paths my
childrens lives will take. Will
they have the same a mbition that
dened my ather? I dont know.
But I do know whatever they do,
they can look up to the stars and
know nothing is out o reach.
He could abandon his desire to fy no more than a
racehorse could abandon its desire to run.
Laura Ann Mullane is a writer who lives
in northern New Mexico. She is co-author
of God Sleeps in Rwanda: A Journey of
,Transformation. Her father, Mike Mullane
.is author of the memoir Riding Rockets