The answer is “Yes, I'd fly on a shuttle.” Some of my earliest memories are of the Mercury countdowns, and I've always dreamed of traveling in space. You'll say its a strange dream for a man afraid of heights, and a foolish one for a pudgy desk jockey. But I remember staying up late glued to the crackly shortwave radio as the Eagle landed. My father went to bed then, but I stayed up and waited to hear that giant step, and then went outside to try to see the moon through the African clouds. Take all precautions, don't launch in the cold or wind, check the tiles before reentry—why take unnecessary risks? But the rest of the risks, embrace. They felt the same, but they put their lives where that dream was, while I dreamed other dreams and followed them. For me its not a greedy dream—I don't need to be first, I just want to be there. And if I can't go, at least we can, in the persons of a few who carry our dream and explore for us all. As they go, a little of us goes with them, and as they died a little of us died too. May the Lord receive their souls.