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Columbia Say a prayer. Seven more souls went home yesterday, and I pray that we may learn from the experience. I was in second grade when the Challenger went down. We were in the school library at Bicentennial Elementary School, watching the launch on the television. I�ve never forgotten it. This serves as a reminder to all of us, that there is nothing like perfect this side of heaven. We all need to remember that we have made mistakes, and we must learn from them. It crushes me that it took the loss of seven lives to drive that lesson home, but we can at least prevent it from being in vain. As with the Challenger, my heart goes out to the families and friends of the crew, as well as to the crew itself. God be with you all. John and I spent a good ten minutes sitting in front of the television, crying. I had so much trouble telling him, while he was in here on the computer. My voice broke as I tried to say �The Columbia broke up on re-entry�. I almost sobbed. And now I feel guilty. I had a stronger reaction to this than I did to 9-11. But I think I know why. At 9-11, it was an obvious terrorist thing. It was definitely something that we could do something about. We had someone to retaliate against. This time there was no such comfort. It was us against . . . ourselves. Against the senselessness of random tragedies that befall every person, every nation, now and then.
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