“Dad, have you heard about the space shuttle?”
Our son Jon was changing planes in
The last time Jon and I had seen astronaut Rick Husband was
almost three years ago at
I remember watching them that day with pride—two clean-cut guys in uniform, both of them the best in their business. Both of them modest to a fault despite years of worldwide visibility in the media. And both of them so quietly certain of their faith.
As Jon and Rick spoke to the school assembly that morning, I was pleased to see that the kids listened with a respect not always accorded to assembly speakers.
As Rick traced his exciting route from high school to outer space, he spoke simply of his faith.
At his core, that’s who Rick was—a man of faith. When he spoke of that faith, he didn’t sound preachy or pretentious.
There in a public school auditorium packed with kids, in words that were genuine and winsome, Rick said unashamedly that being a Christian and trusting in God matter more to him than his success.
Almost two decades ago, Rick’s wife Evelyn was one of my students in Amarillo High’s academic Bible course. Not long after they married, I began to get calls from Evelyn’s mom. “Please put our kids back on your prayer list,” she would request whenever Rick was headed into space.
When I got Jon’s urgent message, I clicked on my
TV—something I seldom do on Saturday morning—and I joined our nation as we
numbly watched the replays of the diverging contrails of flaming space shuttle
fragments hurtling toward earth. And on the various channels over and over we
heard the President say grimly, “
“I’m still sick on the inside,” Jon told me when we visited later that afternoon. “I’ve seen the TV film footage several times, but I just can’t believe what has happened.”
Nor can any of us who knew Rick and love his family. Who can begin to measure our loss?