||[01 Jul 2003|11:20pm]
"A man whom one knows only through a crayon portrait and a dozen yellowing tomes on free-will and intuition is at least secure from the belittling effects of intimacy."
-- Edith Wharton, "The Angel at the Grave"
||[01 Feb 2003|11:42pm]
Virgil I. Grissom
Edward H. White
Francis R. Scobee
Michael J. Smith
Judith A. Resnik
Ronald E. McNair
Ellison S. Onizuka
Gregory B. Jarvis
In a tower of flame on Test Pad Two, I was there.
I know not where they laid my bones; it could be anywhere.
But when fire and smoke had faded, the darkness left my sight...
And I found my soul in a spaceship's soul, riding home on a trail of light.
Chorus: And my wing are made of tungsten, my flesh of glass and steel.
I am the joy of Terra for the power that I wield.
Once upon a lifetime I died a pioneer;
Now I sing within a spaceship's heart. Does anybody hear?
Before each morning's launch, they know that I am there.
To the the soul that warms this vessel's hull they say a silent prayer.
I am father, ship, and spirit of the dream for which they strive.
For I am man at the hands of man; see us rocket for the sky!
My thunder rends the morning sky. Yes, I am here!
Though lost to flame when I was man, now I ride her without fear.
For I am more than man now, and man built me with pride.
Oh, I led the way, and I lead the way, of man's future in the sky!
||[25 Sep 2002|06:30am]
Journal has gone friends-only.
I'm not an exhibitionist, and you're not interested in my life. If for some reason you are, and I haven't added you to my friend list - let me know.
It all works out.