Why Is the Book Taking So Long?


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.

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One page of the interior sample.

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!

So that’s the story of the book.

So far.

Sharing the Story at Spacefest VIII

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.

Here’s the link to the talk on YouTube.

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”!

Jonathan and Jerry q and a
Jonathan Ward and Jerry Ross answer audience questions at Spacefest VIII. (Photo by Brad McKinnon)

The Smoking Gun

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.

The Stafford-Covey Return-to-Flight Task Group

International treaty required the United States to complete the core assembly of the International Space Station, up through the installation of Node 2 (later called the Harmony module) as soon as possible. NASA had previously committed to the US Congress that Node 2—onto which the European Space Agency’s Columbus module and the Japanese Kibo module would be berthed—would be launched by February 2004.

While meeting that date was clearly impossible after the Columbia accident, NASA was still compelled to complete its share of the work on the ISS as soon as possible. There were still many flights needed to complete the ISS’s central truss and expand its solar power system before Node 2 could be installed. None of that work was possible without the shuttle. The modules were already built, but there was no other way to get them into space and support the spacewalks necessary to install them. NASA therefore had to get the shuttle flying again.

In May 2003, three months after the accident and before the Columbia Accident Investigation Board (CAIB) had completed its investigation, NASA expected to resume shuttle operations by the end of 2003 or early 2004. NASA wanted to be sure that it was not letting schedule and political pressure force the agency into taking undue risks.

In early May, NASA Deputy Administrator Fred Gregory announced that former astronaut Lt. General Thomas Stafford had been requested to head a group to provide an independent assessment of NASA’s return-to-flight plans. On May 22, 2003, NASA named former shuttle astronaut Richard Covey to report to Stafford and lead a working group to oversee and test NASA’s compliance with the CAIB’s findings and recommendations. Some of the members of the panel included former Secretary of the Navy Richard Danzig, Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders (who was also the retired CEO of General Dynamics), and former NASA Launch Director Bob Sieck, among a host of other government and industry executives and technical experts.

NASA Administrator Sean O’Keefe said that NASA would only decide that it was safe to fly the shuttle again when the Administrator had the Stafford-Covey Task Group’s independent confirmation that NASA had fully complied with the CAIB’s recommendations.

Stafford Covey group jsc2003e56782
NASA’s Joy Huff shows a space shuttle leading edge subsystems panel to members of the Stafford-Covey Task Group in August 2003. From left: Dr. Amy Donahue, David Lengyel, Dr. Katherine Clark, Richard Covey, and William Wegner. (NASA photo)

The Task Group went into full operation once the CAIB’s report was issued in August 2003. The CAIB made 15 specific recommendations that NASA needed to address before the shuttle could return to flight. Many of those findings required extensive changes to hardware, procedures, and management practices.

NASA’s hopes of flying again in 2003 or 2004 quickly were overtaken by the realization that there was a long and difficult road ahead. By December 2003, the planned launch date had moved to September 2004. However, an interim report by the Stafford-Covey Task Group that month said that “progress on the many recommendations is uneven” and that it was too soon to say whether that new launch date was possible. The Task Group’s interim report also chided NASA for not being timely in responding to some requests for information.

It was not comfortable information for O’Keefe to hear. However, it meant that the Task Group was doing its job of being “an umpire calling balls and strikes in a zone defined by the CAIB recommendations.”

The Task Group issued additional interim reports in April 2004 and January 2005, noting progress as well as areas that still required attention.

By June 2005, NASA had closed out all but three of the CAIB’s recommendations. The Task Group believed that the three remaining recommendations were so challenging that NASA could not comply completely with the intent of the CAIB. For example, the most contentious open item was a vaguely-worded recommendation that NASA have the ability to repair the “widest possible range of damage” when the shuttle was on orbit.

In July 2005, the Task Group was satisfied that NASA had done everything in its power to make the shuttle as safe as possible to fly again, and they told the Administrator that NASA had met the intent of the CAIB’s requirements for returning to flight. The Task Group’s final report made it clear, however, that it was up to the NASA Administrator and his staff—not the CAIB or the Task Group—to determine if the remaining risk was low enough to allow the shuttle to fly.

Shuttle Discovery launched on the STS-114 mission on July 26, 2005. Although the external tank unexpectedly (alarmingly) shed foam again, the safety inspection and repair techniques that NASA developed in the wake of the CAIB report ensured that the crew was able to complete their mission and return safely to Earth.

Columbia’s Reconstructed Debris Tells a Compelling Story

Throughout February, March, and April of 2003, truckloads of Columbia’s debris retrieved in East Texas arrived at the reconstruction hangar at Kennedy Space Center. In the first month or so, several truckloads arrived every week. By April, those deliveries were beginning to tail off as searchers completed clearing the debris field.

Workers in the field knew that NASA was conducting important analyses on the material they’d found and shipped to KSC, but they had no concept of the scope of the operation until they saw the reconstruction hangar themselves. NASA’s Mike Ciannilli (who now runs NASA’s Columbia Recovery Office and the Apollo 1, Challenger, and Columbia Lessons Learned Program) worked as an aerial spotter in East Texas during the recovery period. He said, “We had no clue what was going on at KSC. The first time I went to the hangar, I was blown out of the water. I was just mesmerized by it.”

By the end of April, the debris had begun to tell a very clear story about Columbia’s demise. Almost all of the debris showed the effects of extreme heat, oxidation, and mechanical stress to varying degrees. But what damage happened before the ship broke apart, and what happened afterward? Painstaking forensic analysis was required to gradually tease apart the sequence of the accident.

Tile Tables

Reconstruction workers initially used a computer graphics package (originally developed to track the process of waterproofing the tiles during launch processing) to plot which of the insulating tiles had been recovered from Columbia’s wings. It quickly became obvious that the software was inadequate to provide the information needed for the forensic analysis. Which tiles were damaged? How were they damaged? Were there larger-scale patterns of burns, pitting, or other damage?

The solution was to lay the tiles out on a large, elevated table on which was drawn the outline of the wing and the location and part number of every single one of the 2,800 silica tiles on the left wing. As tiles were recovered and identified (sometimes based only on a few millimeters of thickness), engineers lay them in place on the table.

Patterns quickly emerged.

Micklos tile table
Thermal protection system lead engineer Ann Micklos places a tile on the left wing tile table. (Photo courtesy Ann Micklos)

The carrier panel tiles, which formed the closeout between the leading edge and the rest of the wing, showed where the breach in the wing occurred. The carrier panel tiles behind Panel 9 on the leading edge were slumped and coated with metallic deposits from structures in the interior of the wing.

Burn patterns showed that plasma entering the breach in the wing at thousands of miles per hour pressurized the wing cavity and blew out vents in the upper and lower surfaces of the wing.

As the hot plasma entered and melted its way through the wing’s interior, its heat caused the adhesive that held the tiles onto the wing surface to fail. Those tiles—designed to take heat from the outside surfaces, not from where they were glued onto the ship—peeled off of the wing.

The wing was clearly baking from the inside out.

Finally, the tiles found farthest west in the debris field—those which had come off the earliest in the moments leading to the breakup, as the shuttle was flying from west to east across Texas—were all from the left wing, and all from the area behind leading edge panels 8 and 9.

Leading Edge Frames

Boeing’s Mike Gordon and NASA structures engineer Lyle Davis spent many long hours examining the recovered pieces of the reinforced carbon-carbon (RCC) panels on Columbia’s wing’s leading edges. These pieces ranged in size from larger than one square foot to smaller than a thumbnail.

Since the RCC panels were U-shaped and several feet long, it was impractical to lay them out two-dimensionally. Kennedy Space Center’s shops constructed a set of clear Lexan frames that held the pieces of each RCC panel and its underlying structure, allowing people to see in three dimensions what the front edge of the wing looked like.

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Columbia reconstruction director Mike Leinbach briefs the media about the wing leading edge displays, May 14, 2003. (NASA photo)

The RCC frames also told a compelling story about the accident. Panels 1 though 7, and from Panel 10 outboard, were fractured from forces after the shuttle disintegrated. Their metallic attachment fittings were still partially intact.

However, at Panels 8 and 9, no metallic fittings were recovered. The stainless steel support structure—which melts at 2,500°F—had melted away and was deposited as slag onto the interior of adjacent panels on the wing. The retrieved pieces of RCC from Panels 8 and 9 were knife-edged and heavily eroded, providing evidence that plasma at over 3,000°F was acting as a blowtorch at high pressure on those panels for a prolonged period. This was the only place on the wing where this pattern was observed.

Materials scientists analyzed the cross-section of the slag deposits inside the left wing panels. This analysis showed what the metals were (insulating blankets, aluminum from wing spars, Inconel and steel from fittings, etc.) and how the deposits were laid down. It clearly told the story of the wing’s failure in time sequence.

As with the tiles, the location of the leading edge components in the debris field also gave the sequence of the accident. The leading edge components from the middle to the tip of the left wing (Panels 8 to 22) were found farthest west, between Dallas and Palestine. Pieces of the leading edge of the left wing closest to the shuttle’s fuselage (Panels 1 to 7) were found farther east, between Palestine and Nacogdoches. The right wing leading edge pieces were all found farther east. This provided evidence that the left wing failed before the right wing, with the most likely point of failure being at Panels 8 and 9.

Proof Positive

NASA now had the evidence to prove how Columbia broke up.

NASA announced in early May that only one single failure scenario explained all of the evidence contained in the debris, the OEX recorder, and the telemetry received in Houston. Something—most likely the piece of foam from the external tank during ascent to orbit—caused a breach in the leading edge of the left wing, allowing plasma to penetrate the wing during reentry and erode it from the inside out.

Whether the foam actually punctured the RCC at the leading edge, or whether it pushed the spacers apart and created a gap in the panels, will never be conclusively known.

The last truckload of debris arrived at the reconstruction hangar on May 6. Wreckage that had been strewn over thousands of square miles of forest and field—pieces that had been carefully collected by tens of thousands of searchers working in tough conditions for three months—was all here in this one place. The twisted, burned, and shattered debris had told an important story, one that would have been impossible to write without the collective efforts of so many dedicated people in East Texas and Louisiana and of the nation’s wildland firefighting teams.

“Each piece was evidence of how hard Columbia fought to come home to us,” astronaut Pam Melroy said. “We saw every recovered piece as a victory.” Every piece of debris moved the reconstruction team closer to their goal: We will find the problem, fix it, and move forward in their honor.

[Portions excerpted from “Bringing Columbia Home,” © 2017 by Mike Leinbach and Jonathan Ward.]

The Columbia Recovery Phase Ends

Thanks to the tireless and incredibly efficient efforts of the Texas Forest Service, the US Forest Service, FEMA, EPA, and NASA, recovery operations wrapped up at the end of April and beginning of May in 2003.

From the middle of February through the end of April, the Type 1 and Type 2 wildland fire crews from the US Forest Service walked every square foot of an area larger than the state of Rhode Island in their search for debris from Columbia. They painstakingly searched forests, fields, briar patches, farms, ranches, swamps. They dodged bulls, avoided snakes, endured heat and cold, suffered through hailstorms, scratched bug bites, steered clear of suspected meth labs, missed their families, and slept in tents during their two to three weeks in the field. Grid searches turned up thousands of pieces of shuttle material that on average was about one square inch—and in many cases, smaller than a fingernail.

Air crews  logged over 5,000 flight hours in their search efforts. Divers from the Navy, FBI, Houston Police Department, EPA, Texas Department of Public Safety, and the Galveston Police Department conducted more than 3,000 dives and spent more than 800 hours on the bottom of lakes searching for debris from Columbia. The overall water search effort covered twenty-three square miles of lake bed.

Nearly 25,000 men and women from almost every US state participated in the search operations. The combined effort was over 1.5 million man hours. Searchers recovered more than 84,700 pounds of material from Columbia, equal to about 38 percent of the vehicle’s landing weight. Most emotionally important, the remains of Columbia‘s crew had been recovered and returned to their loved ones.

It was the largest land search and recovery operation in United States history, and the first major incident under the jurisdiction of the new Department of Homeland Security.

Animated graphic showing the progress of the grid searches for Columbia‘s material along the 250-mile-long debris path from February through April 2003. (Courtesy Mark Stanford, Texas Forest Service)

The Palestine, Texas camp closed on April 18. A few days later, the Hemphill collection center closed. Search operations at the western end of the debris field continued for a few more weeks, until the number of pieces being recovered was less than one per grid. All ground operations in Texas ended on April 30, with the Nacogdoches camp closing on May 3 and the Corsicana camp closing the following day. Search operations moved to Utah on May 2 for eight days, as radar had tracked some objects falling off the shuttle during its flight over the state. However, no shuttle debris was ever recovered west of Littlefield, Texas.


NASA’s Space Flight Awareness organization sponsored a huge dinner at the Lufkin Civic Center on April 29 to celebrate the end of the search operations and to thank the local communities and agencies for their help. The scale of the event was impressive. NASA’s Ed Mango likened it to the celebration scene in the movie, The Right StuffJan Amen from the Texas Forest Service reported, “Dinner was steak and chicken, green beans, rice, rolls, salad, pie, all prepared by the Diboll Country Club. Free drinks flowed freely.”

It was the kind of party that only Texans know how to throw.

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Part of the crowd at the banquet in the Lufkin Civic Center on April 29, 2003. (Photo by Jan Amen)

Administrator Sean O’Keefe hosted the event for NASA, and Scott Wells spoke on behalf of FEMA. County judges and civic leaders from every county in East Texas were on hand. County Judge Jack Leath, Tom Maddox, Greg Cohrs, Roger and Belinda Gay, Marsha Cooper, and a host of other people represented Sabine County. Dignitaries from the various Native American Tribes and Nations attended. An astronaut sat at every table.

Astronaut Dom Gorie opened the ceremony with a heartfelt invocation that brought tears to the eyes of nearly everyone present. The Expedition Six crew sent a live video message from the International Space Station. A video about the Columbia crew followed.

O’Keefe and NASA’s Dave King, who was in charge of the recovery operation, presented plaques recognizing the nation’s appreciation for the contributions of the people at every table in the hall. The spouses of Columbia’s crew spoke of their gratitude to the people of East Texas for bringing their loved ones home again. Eileen Collins closed the ceremony on behalf of the next shuttle crew scheduled to fly in space.

Banquet - Evelyn Husband
Evelyn Husband, wife of Columbia’s Commander Rick Husband, conveys her thanks to the people of Texas. (Photo by Jan Amen)

It was a fitting and emotional close to a tumultuous three months. The people of East Texas had provided the nation and the world with an enduring lesson in how to handle a crisis with dignity, compassion, and competence. They met and worked side by side with astronauts, rocket scientists, engineers, technicians, and fire crews from across the country. In return, they had the satisfaction of knowing that they had gone far beyond the call of duty in the hopes of returning the American shuttle fleet to flight again.

At the end of the evening, after Jan Amen dropped off her last load of astronauts and families at their hotels in Lufkin, she wrote to a friend, “I absolutely lost it. I squalled all the way back to Cudlipp like a big fat crybaby. I’m whooped!”

[Portions of this blog post are excerpted from Bringing Columbia Home, (c) 2017 by Mike Leinbach and Jonathan Ward.]

The Recovery Passes the Halfway Mark

At the beginning of April 2003, the search efforts for recovery of Columbia‘s debris passed the halfway mark.

From the time operations went into full swing at the end of the third week of February, the Texas Forest Service had overseen the mobilization of more than 12,200 men and women from the National Wildfire Coordinating Group. These firefighters came from more than forty states and Puerto Rico.

April 1 ground search status
Firefighters came from nearly every US state and Puerto Rico to search for Columbia’s wreckage. This map shows the number of wild land firefighters and support staff deployed by each state as of April 1, 2003. 

They entered the recovery zone through a processing facility set up by the Texas Forest Service in Longview, Texas. After an orientation on what they were looking for and the hazards they might encounter, the fire crews and their supervisory Incident Management Teams were deployed to camps in Corsicana, Palestine, Nacogdoches, and Hemphill. These towns were spaced roughly fifty miles apart along the debris field. The crews then spent two to three weeks conducting grid searches in their assigned areas. Then they were rotated out and replaced by fresh crews.

Longview cots
Cots for transiting fire crews in the Longview staging camp. (Photo by Jan Amen)

Their efforts produced astonishing results. As of April 2, 2003, the crews had searched every foot of an area of 426,844 acres (667 square miles). They had recovered 65,730 pounds of material from Columbia, equal to about 29% of the vehicle’s weight. Their efforts were also being supplemented by 37 helicopters, 8 fixed-wing aircraft, and salvage divers and surface boats in Lake Nacogdoches and the Toledo Bend Reservoir.

In this first incident response by the newly-created Department of Homeland Security, FEMA coordinated the federal agencies and funded the operations. NASA managed the overall search and provided technical assistance. The Environmental Protection Agency identified and handled hazardous materials, and transported all materials recovered during the search. The Texas Forest Service coordinated the air and ground searches. The US Forest Service, the Bureau of Land Management, the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and the National Park Service provided the majority of the search crews and equipment. The US Navy and Coast Guard conducted the water searches.

Those are just some of the lead agencies. More than ninety federal, state, and local government agencies assisted in some way with the aftermath of the Columbia accident.

It was on the surface a collaboration of unlikely partners, but each agency brought its core expertise to bear in the largest and most remarkable inter-agency operation ever conducted.

Astronaut Jerry Ross told me during an interview for the book that “people first and foremost need to understand the greatness of the United States and its citizens. The United Sates has an incredible wealth of capabilities. To see the energy and expertise and materials and technical capabilities that descended on Lufkin within hours of the accident was so reassuring.”

In times when we hear people complaining about “government incompetence,” it’s helpful to remember that agencies are made up of people. People—not faceless agencies—get the work done. And we need to know that our federal and state agencies are made up of a lot of motivated and dedicated people who want to see our country be successful.