I started crying like a little girl right there in class. Not because of Christa McCauliff, not because of the dead astronuts, not because of the tragedy, or the humanity.

Because I knew, even at 10 years old, that that was the death of the American Dream of space. We would never really go back. we would never colonize Mars, discover FTL, build a space force, exploit the asteroid belts. America would never again risk the stars because some stupid c*nt was on the bottle rocket when it blew. My country and my dream of going to the Moon was dead.

And I was right. Totally right. And I hate that.