Silent Vigil

Slick Six stands looking out over nearby Surf beach on the southern end of Vandenberg AFB in California. 21 years ago today, the Challenger explosion derailed NASA's planned expansion of the shuttle program to include West Coast launches, the first slated for 1988 from that very pad.

In nearby Lompoc construction was halted on new hotel rooms and other amenities that would have served the increased traffic expected to accompany the now-lost mission. The town struggled, but survived this blow to it's economy.

Over time, Slick Six has become the new home of the Delta IV rocket at Vandenberg. It stands now--long since renewed with purpose but also as a silent reminder. It reminds of the seven who perished that day and of the difficult days endured by NASA in the ensuing months.

I see it nearly everyday, driving Highway 1 to and from work, traveling between home and the base. It stands there large, with a constant watch over the Pacific with it's westward gaze. I can't help but wonder something else though nearly every time I see it.

"What if...?," it asks in a hushed tone. What if there had been no disaster? What if the launches had come as promised? What would it have meant for this city? What would it have meant for the space program?