Jan 281986
 

01.28.1986 – 11:38 EST

Childhood memories are blurry at best for me, this one has an edge though.

I remember we all gathered in an indoor school common area around a TV for the shuttle launch, 2nd through 5th graders, about 50 kids in all. I think I was in 2nd grade. I was already a budding young astronaut, ready to be the next Shepherd or Aldrin, already having an affinity for the unsung (or moderately less sung).

I don’t remember caring much about the teacher-in-space program as I was already into astronauts. I thought it was cool, but didn’t really see any of my teachers as candidates, and I knew teaching still wasn’t the best track to getting that ride up and out.

I remember the countdown, not understanding much then it seemed very routine and easy. I knew of the dangers of spaceflight, at such a young age they seemed abstract and akin to fantasy. To be exploded on launch, depressurized in a vacuum, or instantly frozen by the void, all delightful horrors that excite children when they are so distant that they can be conjured and forgotten at will.

It seemed impossible that sophisticated adults could create a fallible mechanism on this scale. I knew adults made mistakes, even disastrous ones, but not these kinds of adults. Adults that build machines like these are living mythological beings to a child who early idolized Edison (though to be fair our common first name may have been an initial draw).

The launch was merely an event, formulated drama and suspense, but no real danger. Everything was under control and in the hands of the men and women I wanted to be and be among when I grew up.

Some cheered as the shuttle cleared the tower and climbed into the sky with grace and confidence. The main engines translucent blue razors of thrust cutting the air while the SRBs stacked cloudy pillars beneath the ship, heaving itself upwards along them as rails.

I’d seen launches on TV before, but sharing this with so many enthusiastic people my own age, kids cheering for a spaceship, at once I belonged in this universe, on this planet, at this time. I think it is one of the very rarest feelings in all of existence.

There was no sound from the explosion. I remember finding that odd at first. Explosions always had sound, especially on TV. Nothing, no concussion boom, no camera shake, no screaming, not even an obvious change in the PAO’s emotions as he stated the obvious, that something had gone horribly wrong with the flight.

The TV was quickly obscured by the teachers, who huddled around it so the students could not see, but they continued to watch. I supposed their gut reaction was to shield us from the horrific images of the explosion, but they should have known it was useless and only made us more confused and upset. Those horrible images would be iconic in moments and we would be bombarded with them in the media for months. We would know the wicked tendrils of that contrail from any angle, any perspective, for the rest of our lives.

That exhaust trail created the perfect anthropic nightmare, a fear beyond biblical. It was a hand, but not the hand of God. It was our creation, grown beyond our command. A hand of impossible strength and effortless reach, unleashed, unlimited, uncontrolled by any mind or master.

In full view of the world this unbound hand lashed out and struck them down. It took our best from us, at their best, doing the work that only the best can do. It took them in front of our eyes, all our power, all our strength, all our will, impotent to even delay or comfort their death. The cloak, scythe, and cold darkness of the reaper seemed almost a mercy in the face of this new specter, this obliterator of heroes.

It was over for the gathered students that day. I don’t remember any real discussion of the topic, as I recall we went about our day and there was no more official word on the matter outside the continued offering of condolences and prayers to the astronauts and families over the following weeks. The flag was flown at half-staff. The kids talked about it, but not much, the world still turned and in a short time it just wasn’t news in the media or on the playground.

I still probably cared than most kids, but I had some disillusion about the whole thing. I was hurt, I’d been somehow betrayed and let down. Of course that sounds horribly selfish. I was upset about the loss of the astronauts but I was in 2nd grade and I my foundations of faith in the capacities of adults, and therefore the human race, were thrown into question. Fortunately a 2nd grader is spared compulsive existential analysis by the facts of girls, bullies, opportunities to show-off, be humiliated, and the persistent demands of existing in the biological form of a 7 year old human child.

Something big had broken and it didn’t seem like anybody knew exactly why, how to fix it, or how to make sure it never broke again. That didn’t seem right. I watched the news and heard periodically about the investigation, the o-rings, the cold. These problems sounded small, things that would only go wrong with some half-ass junk-yard rocket some kids built in some movie. NASA had checklists, mission-rules, geniuses, lot’s and lot’s of meticulous geniuses who would rather die than let a stupid little problem get onto the pad, let alone threaten a mission or the lives of the crew.

The building had fallen and the adults weren’t even clearing the rubble.

What really freaked me out is when I heard people saying that the disaster brought the need for manned spaceflight into question. Since when do we just give up like that? How shameful. Sorry to resort to a war analogy here; but to loose a single battle, and immediately surrender all the ground you’ve won in a lengthy campaign? What cowardice and foolish strategy. I always disliked hearing the people who used the death of the Challenger crew in their argument against manned space-flight. No imagination, no spirit, they defy the lives, goals, and intentions of the men and women who’s deaths they exploit for their argument. Shame on them.

Yes we need robots, but human beings solve problems, offer perspective and insights, and have souls carry the need for discovery and enlightenment, among other things.

Anyway, a lot of this is retrospection. I’ve had some time to reflect on these events and their impact on me and my generation. I don’t remember sitting in my room in 2nd or 3rd grade thinking “Man, the Challenger disaster has shaken my faith in adults in some abstract way and this will probably have a profound, though enigmatic impact on me and my whole generation’s attitudes towards space travel.”

The disaster faded, even for me, just faded away. That’s no sin, everything fades, disasters should and must, else such vivid persistent memories would incapacitate us. What is a sin, is that we let the greatness and our boldness towards space fade also.

Every school-age child in American watched the Challenger disaster together. The teacher-in-space program was designed to increase public awareness in science and space, and it worked. Schools across the nation took time out of students schedule to show them what you could achieve if you worked hard in school, became educated, and pursued a dream in space, you could get there. The Challengers crew of 7 included an Asian-American, an African-American, and two women. One of the most diverse crews that had yet flown. The flight was about education, and inspiration, and hope.

The loss of Challenger and her crew did not have the be the end of the story. The teacher-in-space program ended with the death of it’s first participant, Christa McAuliffe. How could such an insult be allowed? I am sorry Christa, I’m going to see if I can help turn that around for you. I know you would have wanted their to be a teacher-in-space on the very next flight and there damn well should have been.

What if that had happened? What if 2 years later there was another teacher-in-space aboard STS-26 and we got pulled out of class to watch that teacher fly. What if we had been brought together once again to watch the phoenix rise, as we were together when it burned? What if adults had shown us that failure, properly assessed and understood, is merely a step towards achievement. What if they had shown us that the we celebrate our fallen heroes with boldness and renewed readiness. What if we’d seen this together, a generation that could have seen a miracle pulled from a disaster, watched and celebrated together. We didn’t, it ended with the disaster. The opportunity has passed. This is more a lament for that fact than anything else. We were too afraid of the worst to make any allowance for the best. There was no teacher-in-space and the program was ended.

The next 3 crews were all white males, And it was 7 before another African-American flew. I don’t remember gathering for a launch in school ever again. I remember official school gatherings during the first Gulf War about how to behave in the event of a terrorist school takeover, I remember being taught to put a wet rag over my face in case of some kind of chemical attack. I remember school gatherings about drugs, about violence, about dress-code, about cheating. I remember a school sponsored concert featuring an imported European boy-band that was asked to leave the stage after grabbing their crotch too much. I remember a school event where students paid to see their teachers ride diaper-wearing donkeys and attempt to play basketball. A teacher was thrown and broke an arm and the event was cancelled.

I remember lots a lots of ridiculous school gatherings, so many that I cannot fathom any excuse why time could not have been allotted to watch a single shuttle launch in my remaining 10 years of elementary, middle school, and high school education.

There must be some profound and resonating social effect from the fact that the Challenger disaster was watched by so many students together, and that the flight represented what it did in education and diversity. It seems a kind of collective psychological event that should be addressed, actually should have been addressed, and I’m probably not the first to think or say it but I haven’t heard much discussion so I just wanted to write down my thoughts about it.

I’m 32 years old now (2010), that’s about the youngest you can be and still have seen the Challenger disaster while in school. So the age group that watched the launch in school together is between 32 and 42 today. On the front end of this age range, those who went to college would have hit the job market or grad school around 1990 and then the last of us would around 2000. I don’t have any statistics on this, but it seems like these decades correspond to the rise in a breed of young, aggressive business, financial minds pushing the boundaries of the markets. The kind of pushing that led to bailouts and housing market collapses, and crazy derivative market systems. It also seems that this is the same time-frame in which many tech-savvy software and internet engineers made bold stakes on the profitability of web-based business models too early, and suffered the dot com crash. I’m not suggesting this was a direct and inevitable result of a generation watching a spaceflight disaster together. I don’t know what I’m suggesting. I guess it just seems to me that a lot of these people were simply aggressive, capable, and driven, and they happily applied themselves to the things that society had demonstrated favor towards.

In the 1960′s young people with engineering, mathematical and scientific minds saw men built mighty rockets and do things only imagined in comic books. They heard of the failure of Apollo 1 and the gruesome death of the crew, but they saw the perseverance and creativity of the engineers, they saw the bravery and heroism of the astronauts, they saw the steely resolve and meticulous care of the flight crews. They saw the failure turned into great achievement. They saw, and believed, that they could be a part of such a thing if they applied themselves.

They became my parents generation and they were probably disappointed in their own way when they spent all that time getting science and engineering degrees only to find the funding was available for military research but not space.

I think a lot my generation just decided not to go for those degrees at all. Why bother? Math is hard. Why should I get a technical degree? The real money’s in business and intellectual property and if you get good at that you can hire nerds or computers to do math for you. Or maybe humanities, or music. We all know we’re going to have to get meaningless jobs for awhile before we sell our first big album or novel anyway so who cares what the degree’s in.

Well obviously that last part was a bit of a self-indictment. Obviously I’ve made some choices in life that have steered me away from my early dreams, only to find later that those were the most honest dreams I ever had and maybe the only ones that weren’t rooted in vanity. But now it feels too late or too foolish to chase them and that I need to find the elemental spark in those dreams and light up a fucking Saturn V with that shit or I’ll go to hell because getting out into space is the only fucking thing that matters and we’ve got such an infinitesimally small chance to be something greater than a fucking evolutionary spasm. That chance is so small and it’s slipping away in my fucking lifetime and I’m watching it and I can’t fucking stop it.

We could bear thoughtful witness to a universe full of beauty. We’re just opening our eyes to it and I cannot stand to think that an eye once opened to such awesome wonder would ever choose to close or cast away from the glory of creation, for fear, for anything. If such an eye can choose to close then enlightenment is a lie, there is no wheel, there is no soul, there is no creation, it is clockwork without a maker, and without even a clock-face, only gears turning gears. Fallen together by impossible chance in infinitely meaningless time and space, some thermodynamic mistake. If this were the truth of the universe and I had the power, I would destroy that clock to spare its cogs and gears from suffering another meaningless turn. What a sick idea. To be a gear, turning the next and the next, but measuring no time, part of no apparatus, only gears on gears on gears, turning, eternally. Useless. I cannot accept this.

The universe is beyond my understanding I am certain as I am alive that it has meaning, and purpose, and therefore humans in it must have meaning and purpose.
For now, with our limited capacity for enlightened thought – I offer a very simple understanding of the purpose of the universe and human beings in it.
The purpose of the universe is simply to kill us, destroy everything we create, and wipe out everything we know and love. I personally have no problem with that, at least the universe isn’t petty or prejudiced.
My problem is entirely with humans, because we are about to start sucking really bad at our purpose. Our purpose is to not let the universe annihilate us for as long as possible.

That’s about as philosophical as I have to be about the whole thing. We survive, or we don’t. I prefer survival. I have faith in the existence of meaning, so for now we can just worry about surviving so we’ll have more time to work on meaning later. So, back to shuttles.

So we approach the last shuttle launch, and for all we know the last non-commericial manned American space-launch. I’d like young people to be able to have that memory, I’d like best if they were allowed to share it. I think sharing those memories as a generation is more powerful than we can predict. I think the shared memories of the challenger have had profound effect and will continue to.

God bless the crew of STS-51-L, their families and loved ones. And God bless those who grieved their deaths, but still know that their work was, and is, worth dying for.

Challenger – STS-51-L – Crew
Commander Francis R. Scobee
Pilot Michael J. Smith
Mission Specialist 1 Ellison S. Onizuka
Mission Specialist 2 Judith A. Resnik
Mission Specialist 3 Ronald E. McNair
Payload Specialist 1 Sharon Christa McAuliffe (Teacher in Space)
Payload Specialist 2 Gregory B. Jarvis

Apr 271979
 

04.27.1979 – 00:01

Most of the stuff I’d be interested in blogging about predates the internet, and me. Also I’d like to keep the current posts more about things that I’m doing, not just thinking.

So this is my retroblog. A retroblog is whatever I say it is, or was whatever I said it was.

And this is it.

Dec 141972
 

12.14.1972 – 05:54

“As I take man’s last step from the surface, back home for some time to come — but we believe not too long into the future — I’d like to just say what I believe history will record — that America’s challenge of today has forged man’s destiny of tomorrow. And, as we leave the Moon at Taurus-Littrow, we leave as we came and, God willing, as we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind. Godspeed the crew of Apollo 17.”

To return, with peace and hope for all mankind. Is that really so much to ask?

I’m sick of seeing the world pour its resources into rivers of blood and shit. We’ve been doing it for a long time.

We built a ship. We put men in it and sent it to the moon. Then they came back home and told us about it. We were getting bored by the second trip. It was an expensive ticket and we’d already seen the show.

All told we spent around 170 billon to get the moon (adjusted to 2011 dollars). That’s all the research and development, all the equipment, fuel, all the human ingenuity and genius. Our return on that investment included digital computers, fuel cells, a hundred industrial chemicals and materials, and a thousand other breakthroughs that still help define our modern age. Not to mention doubling the number of science graduates in nearly every field at every level from undergrad through PhD.

Today we spend more than that every year on the ‘Global War on Terror’. The return on that investment? Scared, ignorant, hateful Americans. Dead mothers and babies, and a generation of people who hate us for killing their loved ones. For every ‘heart and mind’ we think we win we loose a dozen others.

So what do you do when nothing works?

Do the last thing that did work, again.

Do Apollo again. Yes. Nothing new, not yet, just a replay.

Why? Because it makes more sense than what we’re doing now, and it worked last time. We’ve already tried killing huge numbers of people and that didn’t work. But we sent 24 men to the moon and that did work. So lets do that again.

Maybe this is naive but every person that is inspired by the space program is that much less likely to be inspired by some crazy religious dogma and become a terrorist.

But we have terrorists now… what do we do about them?

Here’s my offer. Me. Kill me, desecrate my corpse. Seriously. I’ll take it if it helps us get past this so we can get to building spaceships. You’ll have to prove it’ll seriously help though, I’m not shuffling off this mortal coil for some shenanigan bullshit just to please a few maniacs that wouldn’t really be good at building stuff anyway.
I know that far too often Americans and extensions of American power have caused real suffering in other countries. Since America doesn’t like to pay for its sins, maybe some human beings who live in America will pay for them. I’ll pay.
Makes me seem crazy doesn’t it? Weak maybe, that’s even worse right? Is he suicidal?
Who would sacrifice their own life for other peoples wrongs? Who would do that? What kind of a freak would even think about it? Do you hate your own life so much? Do you have nothing to live for? Offer your life to a terrorist? What good could that possibly do?

Well first off, think about it; terror, fear. Bill Hicks knew. You either fear or you love. So if someone’s only weapon against you is your fear. Use love. Yes- I said it. Love terrorists. If you don’t get it- I love you, but go fuck yourself you self-righteous monkey.
A terrorist is a human being, albeit one that in many respects has lost their humanity. You’re a human being, but I’m guessing it wouldn’t take as much as you’d like to think to turn you into something else. Turn you into something someone might call a terrorist.

You see a foreign tank in your neighborhood, what do you do? Salute? Bullshit. You go cook up some violence and deliver it hot and fresh. Now your an insurgent.

But you’re not a very good insurgent so you die horribly. 10 years pass. Your kids get fucked up ideas about why you died, and you weren’t there to teach them anything about the value of human life. Your kids strap on a bomb in your name and kill a dozen innocent people.

There but for the grace of god, go we.

Love them. It’s the only way. Love them so much that you’d give your life to show them the error of their ways. Or my life if that’s easier for you.

How does some crazy person giving their life to other crazy people solve anything? Isn’t that just a murder/suicide pact?

Wouldn’t it be even crazier to have like a whole corps of people that were willing to sacrifice themselves. Like a sacrificial peace-corps, a lamb-corps offering their lives for the mistakes of others. Volunteers, upstanding citizens, true human beings, each willing to answer for horror caused by other human beings, with the hope that their sacrifice will bring some humanity back to the world. The hope that their life could be a message of hope. To know that their death, and their fearlessness and love for humanity in the face of it, could serve to shame and disgrace the human race into facing their demons and becoming something worth calling a sentient species.

I don’t know- maybe it doesn’t help. Debatable.

I’m not trying to be Jesus here. Jesus had a lot more brains and a whole lot more love than I have. Plus there was the whole messianic tradition, and Rome, and it was 2000 years ago. Not to mention the divinity and resurrection thing. It’s not a great comparison.
The point is- we sing and shout about Jesus, but anybody that acted like him now would be openly regarded as bat-shit-crazy.
Jesus didn’t have to die like he did. He chose to. He could have denied, he could have run, he could have become a leader and rose up against his oppressors, or tried at least. He didn’t.

But didn’t Jesus die so we wouldn’t have to sacrifice anymore? Wasn’t that the whole point? He was the perfect sacrifice right? Thing is- Jesus was a sacrifice for our sins against God. God will forgive us for our sins against man, but will not force others to forgive us. Man must still atone for his sins against man.

So terrorists are still out there. We sense the danger. It’s hard to intellectualize being a sacrificial lamb when your adrenal gland says fight or fly. So we defend.
We don our armor and we know we fight for right, for what is ours, what we know, for what is good. The armor feels safe, it’s easy to get used to. The armor becomes part of our lives and it becomes worth fighting for.
So here we all are, wanting to be champions for good, but most of us get confused and just decide its best to be a champion and let God sort out the good and the bad.

God doesn’t like that. God isn’t middle-management, human resources, or tech-support. God’s the sole-proprietor and he expects you to handle your shit and figure out right from wrong. He made it really easy. In case you missed it – “Do unto others”. If that’s too difficult, I think the option “Stay the hell away from others” is a decent fallback.

So I announce my offer to be a sacrifice for peace. If it’ll satisfy some terrorists lust for revenge and allow them to get back to life then maybe it will help slow this cycle in some small way. I guess this is essentially a publicity stunt, can’t deny it. I’m not looking for publicity for myself though, just publicity for the fact that we’re all completely fucked and we need to do something about it and doing something crazy is better than just letting other crazy people march us deeper into hell.

I don’t see any other way out of this but for some of us to beg forgiveness for the rest of us, who just don’t like the idea that we should have to ask, let alone beg, for anything.

So to recap 1) Restart the Apollo program. 2) I’m willing to let terrorists kill me if that makes them stop trying to kill other people so we can all get on with building spaceships.

That’s it. If anyone’s going to take me up on my offer we’ll need to document it and everything, otherwise it’s just murder. Sacrifice is one thing, but please don’t try and murder me, I’ll resist, a lot.

Jul 211969
 

07.21.1969 – 02:56

“That’s one small step for a man… one giant leap for mankind.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about putting my boots down in that dust. I could do without the immortality of historical recognition. Like Alan Bean, I be just as happy to be the 4th or the 104th. I just want to look out from another world. More than that, I want to believe that people like me might look out from a thousand different worlds.

I’m a pretty imaginative guy and I think that’s pretty far-fetched. 24 men, of the billion or trillions or quadrillions of people that have lived and died on earth – 24 have seen the universe from another world.
Many have ruled Rome, many have won superbowls, many have climbed mount Everest. Few went to the moon.

We’ll never really love this Earth until we know what it’s like to miss it. Carl Sagan tried to tell us.
I pray we survive long enough to have that experience, then we survive the experience. Then maybe we’ll be something…

Also – conspiracy theorists- Bring it. We did it and it was the best thing we ever did. Deal with it.

We went to the moon. We landed. We got out and walked around. We even brought a crazy dune-buggy and took it for a spin. Ask the engineers who designed it, ask the machinists and mechanics who built it, ask the crews who fueled, inspected, tracked, and recovered it, ask the astronauts who flew it.

Better yet- build a spaceship, take it to the moon, and see for yourself. We did it. We did it with technology that didn’t exist when we declared we would do it. We did it in the middle of a war. We did it with less computing power than most people carry around in their pocket.

We could do it again. Now. It took 10 years last time. I say we could bring it back online in 3. If we had any balls.

Jul 201969
 

07.20.1969 – 20:17

“Houston, Tranquility Base here, the Eagle has landed.”
“Roger, Tranquility. We copy you on the ground. You got a bunch of guys about to turn blue. We’re breathing again. Thanks a lot.”

God how I wish I’d been alive for that moment. Even more though, I wish that I didn’t care so much about that moment because I believed it was only the first of many feats of engineering, science, manufacturing, administration, and political will. Instead I am possessed by the fear that is may be the last and greatest of such feats.
Not to say there have been no great feats, only that there have been none so ambitious.
I shouldn’t be naive though. I realize the motivations for the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo programs were based in fear of being dominated. And I realize that even at the time the interest for manned space exploration fell off sharply after the historic achievement of Apollo 11. The will to finance war and destruction outpaced the will to finance human advancement even at the peak of that advancement.
Apollo provided the incentive to develop and hone many of the technologies we depend on today, even many military technologies. But somehow we cannot justify the expense of such ambitious programs.

So the Eagle landed, the entire human race looked up and saw human beings had lifted themselves into the sky, survived the vast and deadly void, and occupied and claimed a hostile world with apparent ease.

Were we challenging God? No more than an ant on a tabletop challenges mankind. We reached out to show our gratitude and new humility at the eternal greatness of creation. For a moment we offered our greatest minds, our bravest spirits and most able bodies in thanks to creation. So that we might better know the will of God. God means many things to many people, but to know and serve the will of God is the basis for all who believe. Whatever you believe, the universe is there, it is, it was, and it will be, and however it got there, we have been blessed with the gifts honor creation in a way unlike any other creature we know. We reach.

Whether by creator or by chance, we were placed in a universe that only respects survival. If we are to show gratitude for our creation, we must take every action to preserve and extend the survival of the compassion, intelligence, and greatness of the human spirit.

So let’s crank up the funding for new propulsion, life support, and in situ resource utilization, warm up the Saturn V’s while we’re waiting, and get sapient.

Also let’s just take 2/3 of the military budget and funnel that straight into education. I promise, Mexico and Canada aren’t going to attack and the Atlantic and Pacific make great neighbors.

As for terrorists- it’s not easy but I have a plan.
1) stop killing people. the less people you kill the fewer want to kill you for killing their family and friends.
2) apologize for the people you did kill, and make sure the countries you killed people in have shit load of jobs and educational resources available to keep people from thinking about all that killing you did.
3) if you absolutely cannot stop yourself from killing people, go to North Korea, or Wall Street. be selective though.


“There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation many never come again. But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas?

We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.”

Jan 271967
 

01.27.1967 – 06:31:04

“If we die we want people to accept it. We are in a risky business, and we hope that if anything happens to us, it will not delay the program. The conquest of space is worth the risk of life. Our god-given curiosity will force us to go there ourselves because in the final analysis, only man can fully evaluate the moon in terms understandable to other men.”

-Virgil Ivan Grissom “Gus”

Apr 121961
 

Build spaceships or die.

Cedar.

“Dear friends, both known and unknown to me, fellow Russians, and people of all countries and continents, in a few minutes a mighty spaceship will carry me into the far-away expanses of space. What can I say to you in these last minutes before the start? At this instant, the whole of my life seems to be condensed into one wonderful moment. Everything I have experienced and done till now has been in preparation for this moment. You must realize that it is hard to express my feeling now that the test for which we have been training long and passionately is at hand. I don’t have to tell you what I felt when it was suggested that I should make this flight, the first in history. Was it joy? No, it was something more than that. Pride? No, it was not just pride. I felt great happiness. To be the first to enter the cosmos, to engage single handed in an unprecedented duel with nature – could anyone dream of anything greater than that? But immediately after that I thought of the tremendous responsibility I bore: to be the first to do what generations of people had dreamed of; to be the first to pave the way into space for mankind. This responsibility is not toward one person, not toward a few dozen, not toward a group. It is a responsibility toward all mankind – toward its present and its future. Am I happy as I set off on this space flight? Of course I’m happy. After all, in all times and epochs the greatest happiness for man has been to take part in new discoveries. It is a matter of minutes now before the start. I say to you, ‘Until we meet again,’ dear friends, just as people say to each other when setting out on a long journey. I would like very much to embrace you all, people known and unknown to me, close friends and strangers alike. See you soon”