The Day After the Shuttle and Astronauts Died In Rentry I Said This

Washington Post Cover Story -- The shuttle was over the Atlantic Ocean, racing skyward at more than 1,600 mph -- greater than twice the speed of sound -- as it climbed through an altitude of 66,000 feet in the thinning air. A ragged section of insulating foam -- a Styrofoam-like slab weighing almost two pounds and about the size of a flat-screen TV -- flew off the shuttle's 15-story-tall, bullet-shaped propellant tank.

The fragment hit the roiling supersonic air stream like a Styrofoam cup tossed from a racing car, slowed abruptly and started spinning rapidly as it traveled about 60 feet. In a split second, it struck the leading edge of the left wing at a relative velocity of 530 mph. Two smaller foam chunks that broke off at the same time missed the wing.

Even though it seemed insubstantial, the foam Frisbee, traveling at that velocity and spinning at least 18 times a second, struck with about a ton of force. It was simple physics. The impact blew a hole probably six to 10 inches across in the leading edge of the left wing.

I had figured the foam peices would weigh several pounds and hit at hundreds of miles an hour after slowing abruptly when detached from the shuttle. In an email list frequented by hard science fiction fans I was told I didn't know physics.

The very good but long Washington Post article closes with the final minutes of the shuttle and of the people in Mission Control. My father used to work supporting Mission Control telemetry and I have friends who work at NASA. Losing people, their mission is to keep their people safe, upsets them terribly.