The scenes of floodwaters and devastation in Houston and southeast Texas are almost unbelievable.
We know that this is an awful time for everyone in the affected area. Our words, thoughts, prayers—all are completely inadequate to express our sorrow for what our friends are going through right now and our hopes that you are all okay.
If there’s any consolation to be had, it’s that Texans have repeatedly demonstrated themselves to be an incredibly strong and supportive people. No doubt the same spirit of tenacity, caring, and dedication that you demonstrated during the Columbia tragedy will also see you through this disaster.
On August 12, 2003, Roger and Belinda Gay came to Kennedy Space Center from Hemphill, Texas. It was an opportunity for NASA to thank them for their overwhelming service in the recovery of Columbia and her crew.
When Columbia broke up over East Texas on February 1, 2003, the remains of her crew came to Earth in Sabine County, as did much of the debris from the crew module and the forward end of the orbiter. The population of the small town of Hemphill in Sabine County tripled overnight, as thousands of people came to town to search for the crew. The sudden influx of people was far more than the few restaurants and motels in town could accommodate.
Roger Gay was the commander of Hemphill’s Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) post, and his wife Belinda was chair of the VFW Ladies Auxiliary. On the day of the accident, the local incident command team asked Roger if the VFW hall could provide some sandwiches for the searchers. He quickly became overwhelmed as the number of searchers skyrocketed. He asked his wife Belinda, who had been helping search the woods for Columbia‘s crew, to coordinate efforts to help feed and support the searchers.
Over the next several days, Belinda made hundreds of phone calls to ask the people of Sabine County and the neighboring communities for help. The outpouring of support was the stuff of which legends are made, and we talk about it at length in our book. All told, the community provided and served somewhere between 30,000 and 60,000 meals to the search teams in Sabine County, at no cost to the taxpayer. The people of Sabine County also invited searchers to stay at their homes, did their laundry, bought them dry socks…the list goes on. Strong bonds were formed between the searchers and the people of the community.
Belinda knew that something of tremendous significance had happened in that time. “I can’t explain it except to say that we witnessed a miracle in action,” she later told Spaceport News. She felt called to preserve the memory of Columbia‘s crew, the two recovery workers who died in a helicopter crash, and the good works of the people of East Texas. Before the summer even started, she and her friend Marsha Cooper from the US Forest Service began investigating options for creating a memorial park in Sabine County.
NASA invited the Gays to visit Kennedy Space Center that summer. On August 12, they visited one of the Orbiter Processing Facilities and met some of the workers who had prepared Columbia for her last mission. Then they toured the hangar where work on reconstructing Columbia‘s debris was wrapping up.
Belinda told Spaceport News, “We needed to come here. Seeing the hangar was a very emotional experience and gave us some sense of closure.”
About 18 months ago I was asked to support the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex in their overarching goal for their guests of being educated while being entertained. I was honored to be considered for it, given the other major ‘attractions’ that further that goal. Heroes and Legends—the re-envisioned Astronaut Hall of Fame—recently opened in the original Debus Center. A new Mars exhibit will soon begin construction. Honoring the fallen astronauts in Forever Remembered and the tribute to the Apollo 1 crew are moving reminders of the risks associated with spaceflight. By far, however, the KSCVC celebrates the successes and contributions to mankind that the space programs have provided for over 50 years. Attendance promises a full day of activities and memories unlike the typical theme parks in Orlando.
My small part is called, cleverly, the Launch Director Tour! A few times each month, I take a group on a personal tour of the Atlantis attraction, the Launch Control Center, launch pads, and conclude at the Apollo Saturn V facility. In the four-hour tour we discuss not only those specifics but get into anything the group wishes to know more about. As I tell them at the outset, “If you leave here today and wish you had asked me a question but didn’t, bad on you! My job is to make your time here as full as possible. Answering your questions is an integral part of that.” And the groups aren’t shy!
Since they are truly ‘avid space fans’ the questions asked are just terrific. Technical specifics of the Shuttle, the early manned spaceflight programs and the current and future ones, most memorable moments, most difficult launch, and the questions from kids are special! We also always have foreign guests on the tours and their perspectives on America’s programs offer unique and memorable interactions.
I could write a book in itself on the questions I get on my tours—they are that good. My personal favorites generally fall into three categories. 1: What is the future of manned spaceflight? 2: How I made the final launch decision. 3: My favorite launch.
Discussing the future always comes up. As do the politics behind decisions. This discussion can always take unexpected turns! But briefly, I express my view that Mars should not be the next goal of our manned efforts, but establishing a permanent base on the Moon. Why? We need to learn to live on another body before we take off on the exponentially more difficult trip to Mars. The Moon is the next logical step. Not as sexy as Mars, but vastly more logical in our progression off Earth.
I made the final launch decision by thinking about my seven friends on the rocket and asking myself if I’m ready to commit them to the most risky thing they have ever done. The astronauts are real people with real lives, real families, real children, spouses, parents. How can I give a “go” without considering their families? This was always part of my final decision, but became even more paramount, if that’s possible, following Columbia.
My favorite launch is answered two ways: the most difficult and the most unexpected. The most difficult was STS-107, Columbia’s final mission. Why? The book has more detail, but we had a security scare just before liftoff that had me holding onto my console to steady my hands, literally. Just sixteen months after the attacks of 9/11, and with an Israeli astronaut on board, Columbia was recognized as a prime terrorist target. Liftoff was fine, but foam damage during ascent doomed the mission and crew. The launch with the most unexpected event was STS-105 and the need to launch earlier than planned due to impending bad weather. I addressed this in an earlier posting. Check it out.
My all-time favorite question, however, came from a kid from England, maybe ten years old. She asked, “How does an orbit work?” WOW! From a kid came a question demonstrating great thought, curiosity, and desire to learn. The goal of the whole tour concept had come true in spades. Fortunately, luckily, I could work my way through it, but first I asked the group how many people knew the answer. Of the 35 people, 2 knew. I asked them to help me answer. With my pen as a prop we demonstrated the balance between gravity and speed and the little girl’s eyes lit up. She got it. That’s why we do the tours. It was perfect.
I invite all of you to join us if you ever find yourself at the KSC Visitor’s Complex. Advance reservations for the tour are recommended—and can be made at this link. The tour frequently sells out weeks in advance. If not on my tour, the overall KSCVC experience promises not to disappoint in any way.
People often ask me: “Why is the Columbia book coming out in January, when you and Mike finished writing it in March?”
The short answer is that the publisher needs a lot of time to ensure that you, the reader, will get a quality product.
And as eager as you readers are to see the book come out, Mike and I are doubly impatient to put the book into your hands. But we want to make sure that you get the best possible book. The story of Columbia deserves to be treated with dignity and presented in a first-class manner, so we took our time to do it properly from the outset.
I also get a lot of questions from aspiring authors about what goes into writing and publishing a book. Let me take a few minutes to summarize what the past two years has looked like for us.
As noted previously, Mike and I agreed on the overall subject and started working on scoping the book in April 2015. Interviews with key participants in the recovery and reconstruction convinced us that we needed to significantly expand the scope of the book to tell a broader story. By early September 2015, we felt we had the scope pretty well nailed down, and we started outlining the book.
Even before we began writing the book in depth, we spent nearly nine months searching for a literary agent and exploring possible publishers. Starting in September 2015, we wrote at least fifteen iterations of a book proposal and a sample chapter (which later became Chapter 1 in the book). In March 2016, we found a literary agent who was enthusiastic about helping us get our book published. Several publishers expressed interest, and we spent two months working out terms with the publisher who we thought would do the best job with the book. We also insisted that the book be released before February 1, 2018, which will be the fifteenth anniversary of the Columbia accident.
We finally contracted with Skyhorse Publishing in August 2016, nearly a year after we started the search process. Meanwhile, our research was still going on—eventually totaling more than 100 hours of interviews which generated over 600,000 words of interview transcripts! But we couldn’t really write the book until we ensured that we and the publisher were in complete agreement on the length of the book and how we intended to treat the subject matter. Our manuscript due date was set in the contract as March 15, 2017.
Writing the first draft of the manuscript took from September 2016 through January 2017. (For those interested in the writing process, that involved writing an average of 1,200 words per day, every day, during that period.) We solicited technical reviews for accuracy from many of the key sources for the book as we went along. Each chapter went through multiple revisions—correcting, tightening, expanding, fact checking, etc. (For those really interested in the mechanics of book writing, I used an app called Scrivener for managing all the reference material and writing the drafts. I exported the drafts into Word once they were ready for review.)
When the first draft of the entire book was complete, we sent the manuscript to several professional writers and editors to ask for their feedback. Their reviews took us into early February. Working with suggestions from the reviewers, we decided that we needed to re-write much of the book to make Mike’s part of the story even more personal by putting his experiences in first person rather than third person. And we needed to shorten the book by 10 percent, a daunting process that resulted in a much tighter read. Writing that second draft took us another month. Then came choosing the best representative photos out of hundreds available, writing the captions, and the detailed work of double-checking the end notes.
That brought us to our submission deadline in mid-March. We beat the due date in the contract by two days.
Now the ball was in our editor’s court. The typical editor these days is working on about a dozen books simultaneously, all of which are in different stages of production. During the contracting phase, the publisher decides which “catalog” the book will be released under. In our case, it was Skyhorse’s Fall 2017 catalog, which covered books to be published between October 2017 and February 2018. The editor works backward from the release date in the catalog to determine the milestone dates. In our case, the book needed to be completely ready to go into production by the end of July this year.
We received our editor’s comments on the manuscript in mid-June. Thanks to all the time we spent having other reviewers go over the book, our editor had very minimal changes to our initial submission. We swapped the order of two chapters, moved four short sections from one chapter to a couple of other places in the book, and that was about it. Next, Skyhorse’s copyeditor reviewed the book for formatting, typos, grammar, consistency, etc. Again, very few changes needed to be made, and that process wrapped up about ten days ago. That was the final opportunity to make any substantive changes to the book.
This week, we received the “interior sample”—the first ninety pages of the book, so we can see how it will look when it’s typeset. Our editor wanted to be sure we liked the layout and overall look of the book.
One thing that came up during the review of the interior sample was finally nailing down the subtitle for the book. You may be surprised to learn that authors don’t always get to choose the titles for their books. The author will suggest a title, but the editor will frequently recommend a different title that might be more likely to grab potential readers’ attention or show up better in online searches (“Search Engine Optimization,” or SEO). So we had a few exchanges with the editor about ideas for the subtitle for our book this week before we settled on one that we all agree summarizes the book in about ten words. Not an easy task.
The final pre-production phase, which should be in the next week or two, will be for us to review the galley proofs. This is a pdf of exactly how the book will be typeset, page by page, line by line. The authors have five days to review and approve it. Changes are very tightly controlled and limited to correcting errors. You need to do everything humanly possible to avoid making any changes that will affect pagination. And the contract allows the publisher to charge the author for every word change that’s not an error correction—so you know they’re serious! Also at this point, an indexing service will generate an index for the book.
Then the book goes into production. Mike and I essentially have no further input into the book from that point forward. Although the official release date is January 2, 2018, our editor assures us that we will have books in hand several weeks before that for us to sign and ship to people who pre-order from us!
Last month, I was privileged to be able to speak at Spacefest VIII in Tucson, Arizona about the recovery and reconstruction of Columbia.
For those of you who haven’t been able to attend a Spacefest, it’s an incredible experience. You’ll meet Gemini, Apollo, and Space Shuttle astronauts, planetary scientists, futurists, historians, artists, authors, and hundreds of everyday people who are enthused by space exploration. The wonderful people at Novaspace make this an experience you’ll never forget.
As the co-author of the upcoming book on the Columbia accident, I was invited to speak about the events of 2003. Joining me on the dais was astronaut Jerry Ross, who shared his first-hand accounts of working with the crew and in the search for the vehicle’s debris after the accident, as well as the near-miss he had on STS-27—the most heavily-damaged spacecraft ever to return safely.
I recorded the audio from the presentation and from the ensuing question-and-answer period. I’ve since incorporated a few more images and some video editing to help make the photos tell the story even more clearly. Jerry Ross graciously agreed to allow me to include his commentary in this video.
I am NOT a practitioner of “Death by PowerPoint.” You’ll need to have the audio turned on as you watch this presentation, as there are no bullet-point slides—none. It’s all photos and a few maps, which illustrate the story I tell.
The video is one hour long. I hope you’ll enjoy it and learn from what one audience member called “a moving and surprisingly inspirational presentation”!
A lot has been written about the recovery from the Columbia accident in terms of changes we needed to make to get back to flying the Shuttle again. In general, the changes fell into two categories. One bucket contained changes to hardware, the other were changes to management practices.
In the early summer of 2003, we didn’t know how much time we’d eventually have to make these changes—just that we’d take whatever time was necessary to get them done, and with the confidence we did them right. But based on the recovery from the Challenger accident of 1986, we figured we wouldn’t be flying again for a couple of years. Could be longer; could be a little quicker. But the charge to all of us was to get the work done correctly, first and foremost. Sort of like resolving a problem in the final throes of launch countdown – solve the problem first, then look up at the clock and see if you have any time left in which to launch.
That’s not to say we were lackadaisical about it. Hardly. We were well aware of the need to get flying again to the ISS. But once again, it was ‘schedule awareness’ vs ‘schedule pressure’. There was a difference from the time critical launch environment of course where technical problems were solved based solely on data, and bad decisions couldn’t be recalled. In the recovery period, lengthy, philosophical debates were fairly common. But decisions needed to be made and progress in the improvements needed to be real.
The foam loss problem on the external tank needed to be fixed. Adding the capabilities to inspect the Orbiter’s tiles and effect some level of repair prior to re-entry was also necessary. These were obviously the top two flight hardware upgrades undertaken. But each Project (Orbiter, ET, SRB, Ground Processing, etc.) was asked to essentially recertify their existing system as flight-worthy, or suggest upgrades aimed at improving safety margins. These suggestions would be debated at the Program-level change boards and either accepted for implementation (and funded) or not.
Changes weren’t too widespread for us at KSC and the Ground Processing directorate. For the most part, our work practices on the flight hardware were mature and adequate. Extra care was to be taken when working on the External Tank’s foam to avoid damage, but nothing too onerous.
One significant finding in the accident review that we were responsible for correcting was the inadequate ascent imagery. As you may recall, on Columbia‘s final launch one ground tracking camera was inoperable, another was out of focus, and the just sheer number of assets documenting the critical portion of ascent couldn’t guarantee the full suite of images necessary to help resolve issues. As a result, we undertook a complete review of the ‘imagery system’ composed of tracking video cameras, still photography, high-speed engineering film assets, and the Operational Television System (pad cameras). We needed to be sure we had enough visual documentation to address issues, and have confidence on launch day the assets were working and could ‘see’ the vehicle. The Columbia Accident Investigation Board (CAIB) even recommended we have Launch Commit Criteria (LCC) for the system. More on that in a moment.
In addition to improving the visible launch documentation we needed some sort of long-range tracking system that could detect issues long after ground-based cameras effectively lost sight of the vehicle. Later – the C-band radar system. Likewise, on-orbit imagery needed to be understood and policies firmed up to enlist help from the intelligence community if needed.
For the sake of brevity, the final ground-based system we installed was one of guaranteeing adequate views at least through SRB separation, from three independent positions, and from both north of the pad and south of the pad. We needed close-in views, mid-length (2-5 miles), and longer-range views from 10 miles or beyond. No distance requirement was set, just that we had these three ‘zones’ covered. Obviously, siting the individual assets would be case-dependent. At least two cameras at each location added to the certainty of coverage. The status of each would be reported to the responsible system engineer on the launch team and relayed to us. They would be committed for launch during the hold at T-9 minutes.
What about the CAIB launch commit criteria requirement? What about clouds obstructing one or more views? What about night launches? Good questions.
The CAIB did not specify what type LCC they wanted, although in informal talks they were going after specific camera views and operability. Given the uncertainty of guaranteeing views, I opted to enact an LCC based solely on the system operating properly. The issue of adequate views (cloud coverage, one or more specific cameras being down, etc.) was left to judgment on launch day. That decision would be made jointly by me (as Launch Director) and the Mission Management Team chairperson. The CAIB accepted the idea, so we pressed on with buying and installing an elaborate collection of video and still cameras located north and south of the pad. And we installed a control system for the cameras close to or at the pad. It was that control system that had the LCC. On launch day, the pre-launch MMT chair and I would get information on the views we would get during ascent and would decide if we’d launch with anything less than the full complement.
We had a requirement to launch during the light of day for the Return to Flight mission. That mandate remained in place until we had confidence the foam loss issue was resolved, AND that the radar system could detect debris issues regardless of daylight. We relaxed the lighted-launch requirement starting with STS-116 in December 2006, the first night launch of a Shuttle since the Columbia accident.
The system proved to be a great addition to the safety for the astronauts and the vehicle. Never again would the vehicle be hidden from view during ascent. We had enough cameras to make up for one or two not working as designed and had all angles covered. Ground-based imagery never caused a scrub and always provided clear views of the vehicle – and plenty of them.
The exclamation point that provided closure to the Columbia accident investigation was independent of the analysis of Columbia‘s debris and its data recorder.
Two days after the February 1, 2003 accident, the NASA Accident Investigation Team contacted the Southwest Research Institute (SwRI) near San Antonio for assistance in the accident investigation. SwRI had conducted previous studies for NASA on the effects of impacts of much smaller pieces of foam, cork insulation, and ice on shuttle tiles. NASA wanted incontrovertible proof that foam from the external tank was capable of inflicting mortal damage on the shuttle’s thermal protection system.
That foam could damage the wing seemed counterintuitive on many levels. How could a piece of lightweight insulation— about the density of Styrofoam and weighing less than two pounds—fall off the tank and cause that kind of damage? And wasn’t it traveling about the same speed as the shuttle?
In fact, analysis showed there was a significant velocity difference between the shuttle and the foam at the time of impact. NASA estimated that the shuttle was traveling faster than 1,500 mph—and accelerating—when the foam fell off the tank. After falling off, the foam immediately and rapidly decelerated due to air resistance. The block slowed to about 1,000 mph in the 0.2 seconds between when it came off the tank and when the shuttle’s wing impacted the foam. The relative difference in speeds between the shuttle and foam was therefore more than 500 mph.
The piece of foam that struck Columbia was four hundred times larger than the pieces tested previously by SwRI. Using a special compressed air cannon, SwRI planned to simulate the collision by firing foam blocks at more than 500 mph into samples of shuttle tiles and wing leading edge panels. High-speed cameras photographed the test firings and impacts, and over two hundred sensors measured the effects of the collisions.
By the time the equipment and procedures were ready for the first test on the landing gear door, the investigation had already narrowed its focus to the wing’s leading edge as the impact area. SwRI ran its test anyway using a landing gear door—one borrowed from Enterprise and subsequently covered with silica tiles—to check out the test equipment and processes. As expected, a grazing impact of foam, akin to what would have occurred in flight had the foam hit the underside of the wing, caused only minor damage to the tiles on the landing gear door.
Space shuttle wing leading edge panels are large, expensive, and made to order. The reinforced carbon-carbon (RCC) material also wears and becomes more brittle over time, so SwRI could not use newly manufactured panels to get an accurate assessment of potential damage in its impact tests. The test panels would have to come from the wings of Discovery and Atlantis, the two orbiters that had flown about as many times as Columbia.
NASA decided to check out the test process first using Fiberglas leading edge wing panels from Enterprise, which was not designed to fly in space. Several test shots at Enterprise’s Fiberglas panels—which were stronger than the RCC panels on the flightworthy shuttles—produced scuff marks from the foam blocks, but no breakage. After getting its process and equipment calibrated, SwRI was now ready to try the tests with the space-flown RCC panels.
First, a foam block was fired at panel 6 from Discovery. The impact created a crack nearly six inches long in a rib supporting the leading edge, and it moved the panel enough to create a small gap in the T-seal between panels 6 and 7. This test proved that foam could damage the RCC. However, the damage incurred in this test would not have been severe enough to create the burn-through seen on Columbia. NASA estimated a hole of at least ten inches in diameter would have been needed for the wing to ingest a plasma stream large enough to create the damage shown in Columbia’s debris.
The next test target was panel 8, which had flown twenty-six times on Atlantis. Evidence from the reconstructed debris and the OEX recorder indicated that panel 8 was the probable site of the impact on Columbia’s wing.
At the test on Monday, July 7, 2003 the impact from the foam block blew a hole through the panel about sixteen inches by sixteen inches across, created several other cracks, and caused the T-seal to fail between panels 8 and 9. This was entirely consistent with the type of damage that caused Columbia’s demise.
Witnesses were incredulous, but the evidence was incontrovertible. NASA now had the smoking gun matching the fatal wound on Columbia. The test silenced lingering doubts that a foam strike alone was sufficient to damage the wing and doom the ship.
This text in this section is excerpted from the book “Bringing Columbia Home,” (c) 2017 by Mike Leinbach and Jonathan H. Ward. Video material is from NASA.