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Party is tragically over for Israel's
first astronaut
THE last message was unbearably poignant. Hours before the
space shuttle Columbia disintegrated, Colonel Ilan Ramon emailed
his brother, Gadi, to tell him he was on his way home.
''Well, it's almost over,'' he typed - heart-breakingly unaware
of how true his words were. ''I feel like the party is over
. . . although I know we will party a lot now after we land.
It's great that you can watch us up here, and I hope they
show some good things that we are doing here and not only
the science.
''In two-and-a-half days we are landing . . . see you on
earth. Ilan''
Ramon is a great Israeli hero and the reverence felt for
him by all Jews must be some comfort to his wife, Rona, who
talked with a terrible lucidity of the moment that she realised
her husband had died.
Describing how she was standing with families of the other
astronauts, close to the landing strip at Florida's Kennedy
Space Centre, Rona said: ''Just like at the lift-off, we counted
back from 10, but we got to zero and nothing. No sign - the
shuttle wasn't drawing near, nor did we hear the sonic booms
which we knew would be heard before landing. There was an
odd, terrible quiet.''
''As the minutes passed we already knew that there was nobody
to wait for and nothing to wait for.''
Ramon's five-year-old daughter knew too. After the launch
on January 16, little Noa told her mother: ''I lost my daddy.''
And when the deaths of the seven Columbia crew were confirmed,
Noa asked: ''How can you die in space? People are supposed
to die only on Earth.''
Ilan Ramon was never destined to die on Earth. His extraordinary
daring as a fighter pilot was a constant taunt to death, a
defiance so brave that most of us can barely begin to imagine
it.
Part of this magnificent human being honestly believed he
was immortal -Ramon had not even made a will when he stepped
into Columbia. And part of him is immortal, for he will be
remembered by generations of Israelis and Jews worldwide,
with the same awestruck admiration that America accords Neil
Armstrong.
His incredible feats as a pilot were little known until rushed
obituaries appeared at the beginning of this week. I knew
he was part of an eight-jet squadron that, in 1981, destroyed
a nuclear reactor at Osirak, outside Baghdad, but when last
year I wrote a light-hearted column about Ramon's planned
space adventure it did not seem right to reveal his role.
In fact Ramon led the attack in which eight F-16 Eagles flew
in such tight formation across enemy territory that Iraqi
radar operators assumed they were seeing a single passenger
airliner. The reactor was obliterated in a raid which lasted
precisely 80 seconds.
Some observers believe the destruction of Columbia was in
part the revenge of Islamist terrorists, who may have used
an electro-magnetic ray to scramble Columbia's radio and computers
as it began the long descent over Texas.
That seems far-fetched - but so is the notion that Colonel
Ramon could have permitted the descent after he identified
the damage to the shuttle's wing, supposedly caused when a
foam insulation panel was detached during take-off, and sent
photos of this back to NASA Mission Control.
The crack which Ramon photographed looks fatally serious
to any untrained eye. Either the crew and controllers were
reckless, or the photos are misleading.
However, we read the evidence - and there is not much of
it yet - the break-up of Columbia appears inexplicable. The
White House's instant rejection of all theories that terrorists
could somehow have been involved begins to look like a panicky
denial.
Some conspiracists are pointing to the bizarre coincidence
that Columbia came to grief above Palestine - not the disputed
territory within Israel, but an outback town in Texas.
I prefer to see this as a cosmic synchronicity, a sign that
all the world was touched by this tragedy. I have always admired
the pilots of Israel's airforce as the epitome of my boyhood
heroes.
I met many of them in the Seventies when I would often perform
at Israel's airbases, for no fee, to help keep morale high.
I was always struck by the open minds of these men. Their
lives depended on technology, yet they were willing to recognise
that the human mind is more powerful than any scientific instrument.
Many told me that, in instants of crisis in the air, they
had discovered superhuman mental powers that seemed to slow
down time, enabling their bodies to react with impossible
swiftness to danger that could explode from nowhere.
I was also fascinated to watch the reaction of their commanding
officers, who were so concerned that my shows might provoke
irrational fears and superstitions in the pilots that, after
every one of my appearances, a forces psychologist would be
drafted into the base to debrief the men and debunk me!
Israelis, and the worldwide Jewish community, are being drawn
together in the aftermath of the shuttle tragedy. We are taking
strength from Ramon's heroism, just as the families of all
the crew are supporting each other in their grief. They are
inspired by the courage of their loved ones - so should we
be too.
Rona Ramon said this week: ''We are one big family. What
unites us is the knowledge they really enjoyed being there
and loved being with each other. They are all angels and will
remain that way.''
She is right. They are angels now, but what makes Ilan Ramon
and his fellow crew members truly exceptional is that they
had the courage to act like angels during their lives. They
broached the heavens. I am certain that not one of them, even
knowing what disaster lay ahead, would have abandoned the
dream.
Catch Uri on his nationwide Back From The Jungle tour.
Email
him at urigeller@compuserve.com
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