Riding Rockets

But it wasn’t the faint noises keeping me awake. I was suffering a full-blown case of “last mission syndrome.” I had experienced it in Vietnam. Then, the last mission had been identical to the other 133, but because it was my last, my fears had been magnified ten-fold. As I navigated the pilot to our reconnaissance target, I imagined every Viet Cong gunner in South Vietnam had my helmet in their sights. Now I envisioned every bug, glitch, and gremlin inAtlantis ’s hardware and software was conspiring to end my life on STS-36. There was an SSME failure awaiting me, an APU fire, a turbo-pump ready to fly into a million pieces. My heart pounded in deep, thudding explosions. The adrenaline in my veins was eating the narcotic of the sleeping pill, like Pac Man munching through dots in his maze.

I got up, went to my desk, and switched on the light. I wrote to Donna and the kids:

21 Feb 1990, 12:22

P.M.

Dearest Donna, Pat, Amy, and Laura,

…I have no premonitions about this flight. I expect I will come home and we will pursue our other dreams in New Mexico. But there is no denying the danger. It is extreme, far beyond any other flying I’ve done. In spite of that I feel it is what I was born to do…. If it is God’s intention to call me, then I want you to know how much I have loved you before I leave. Darling, I have loved you. I haven’t always shown it but I love you with all my heart and soul. You are the first and greatest gift God has given me. The children are the second. There are many others—my health, your health, the kids’ health, my dreams, and the wings to reach those dreams. I want you and the children to remember that. I have been blessed beyond all human reason. Nobody should ever think that God was cruel to take me at this moment. Most people never come close to the self-fulfillment I’ve been blessed with.

I then wrote a separate letter to my mom:

21 Feb 1990, 12:47

P.M.

Dear Mom,

Just wanted to tell you for a last time how much I have loved you and Dad. You are the source of my mortal life and have filled it with such abundant love

.

Please don’t mourn my death. I’ve had the dreams of a thousand lifetimes fulfilled and died doing what I loved—to fly!

Your Psalm 91 was beautiful and I thank you for giving it to me and for praying so hard for me. Though in your grief you may feel God did not fulfill the promises of that Psalm, I think He did so wonderfully. He fulfilled every word of it

.

Please continue to pray for me, as I will for you. I hope God allows me to get back to Dad. There’s so much I would like to tell him. Also, tell Tim, Pat, Chipper, Kathy, and Mark that I loved each of them and wish them all the blessings I have known. I love you, Mom. Mike

I folded the letters and slipped them inside a pocket of my T-38 flight coveralls. Those were packed in my EOM bag and would be held for me at Edwards AFB. If I didn’t make it back to claim the letters, I knew they would find their way to Donna and my mom. I climbed back into bed and somewhere in midafternoon a shallow sleep finally took me.