Columbia

I was working traffic that day at the ARTCC.  It was chilling every time I glanced at the weather radar display in the control room and saw the large swath of green radar returns the falling debris created on that cloudless day.

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, up the long, delirious burning blue 

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace 

Where never lark, or ever 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.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr