The legacy of Columbia's Commander Rick Husband      

     At 8:45 a.m. EST on February 1, 2003, Evelyn Husband stood on a patch of grass beside the landing site at Kennedy Space Center, watching for her husband Rick, commander of the space shuttle Columbia, to fly into view. As far as she was concerned, Rick was just minutes away, but an awkward silence settled over the crowd, and that disturbed her. NASA officials on the ground scurried by, speaking in hushed voices, their faces ashen with worry.

 

 

     The first concrete indication of trouble surfaced when ground personnel lost transmission with the shuttle. At 8:59 a.m. EST, Capsule Communicator Charlie Hobaugh radioed the crew from Mission Control in Houston to inform them of low tire pressure. Rick's voice came across the radio: "Roger, buh..." His words were cut off by static, and Charlie tried in vain to regain connection. That was Columbia's last voice transmission.

 

     On what was supposed to be a homecoming celebration, Evelyn's best friend, the father of her two children, vanished into thin air a mere 16 minutes before their reunion would have taken place. His glorious flying machine reentered the earth's atmosphere over San Francisco and began to disintegrate. It shot across the east Texas sky like a dying star and disappeared forever into an azure abyss, but for the alloy rain that fell on spectators below.

 

     NASA has a contingency plan that is carried out in the event of an accident, and within minutes Evelyn and her two children were taken back to crew quarters, where Rick had stayed prior to the flight. His clothes sat neatly packed for his return home. Eventually, she received formal notice that he had died.

 

     "When you hear those official words, you know that all hope is lost," she writes in her memoir High Calling. "You know that your spouse is never going to hold you again. You know that your children's father or mother is never going to see them graduate or marry or hold their children. You know that aging parents have outlived their own children. Then the weeping begins. We cried silently; we moaned; we wailed; we screamed. We . . . held hands and felt as if our hearts had been cut out."

 

     I spoke with Evelyn just nine months after Rick's death. She called me at my office. You would never know that she is weathering one of life's most treacherous stormsthere is no sound of defeat or pity in her voice. You would never know that she has been cast into the public arena as a national symbol of triumph over tragedy. Despite the enormous publicity that surrounds her, Evelyn is still a mom who is more nervous about confronting her daughter's schoolteacher than taking an interview with the press.

 

     During our conversation, we talked for a long time about our children and our busy schedules prior to broaching the topic that has preoccupied so many headlines lately. Before we hung up, Evelyn actually stopped me short and asked if she could take a moment to pray for me. I've interviewed more than 100 people, and no one has ever asked to pray for me. "I'm a mom too," she said. "I know what it's like." She asked for the names of my two sons and prayed a blessing on their lives.

 

 

     The fact that Evelyn is able to minister to others in the midst of unspeakable grief is a testimony to the power of her God. It is evidence of a life consecrated to Christ long before tragedy struck. Her spiritual journey began over forty-four years ago when her parents stood at the altar of a Presbyterian church in Texas and made a covenant with God to raise their daughter in a home that served Jesus. Rick's parents made a similar pledge at Polk Street Methodist Church to raise him in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ. He did not stray from their instruction.

 

     Preceding the launch, required paperwork that Rick had filled out was placed in his file: financial,information, spiritual advisors, etc. The last page of the packet was entitled "Special Instructions for Funeral Services." There he wrote, "Tell 'em about Jesus!that He is real to me." He listed two Bible verses: Proverbs 3:5-6 (which Evelyn later quoted to Katie Couric on television), and Colossians 3:23.

     There are other telling keepsakes from Rick's spiritual life. Not wanting his two children to miss their daily devotional time with him, he videotaped 16 devotions for each of them, one for each day of his absence. They are now among his family's most precious possessions. One spring evening Evelyn unexpectedly came across a video she hadn't previously seen. She put it in the VCR and pushed the play button. Rick appeared on the screen, reading to his son Matthew from Isaiah 61:1-3. "He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted . . . to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve . . . to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair" (niv). Even after his death, he seemed to reach through time and space with the comfort and wisdom his family needed.

 

     Rick's request to tell others about Jesus has now become Evelyn's raisond'tre, and she communicates it every chance she gets. Her mission is evident not only in her life's work the book she has written and the speeches she gives but also in the passion with which she embraces life. Her path through suffering has been tremendously unsettling; she did not accept her husband's death with quiet resignation. She railed against the blackness, and still the grace of Jesus radiates from her face.

 

     I had to ask whether or not she was ever angry with God. "Yes," she said, telling me of an evening when she was driving to a friend's house and became engulfed in grief. She pulled into a deserted church parking lot, phoned ahead to say that she would be late, and wept for a few hours. She screamed at God, begged Him for understanding, and lamented her life. Before she left, though, a peace that she never could have anticipated flooded over her. Today she is closer to Christ than she has ever been. "In the middle of my immeasurable grief, something amazing happened: I worshiped," she writes. "I got lost in God's holiness and provision. I was swept away by His faithfulness and presence. In the depths of my agonizing heartache, God was there, comforting and holding me."

 

     When she stood on the brink of total defeat, Evelyn realized that she could either choose to reject her faith or embrace it. "When I realized Rick wasn't coming home and I had been left to raise our children alone, I had two options," she recalls. "Out of anger, I could give up on my faith in God, or out of desperation, I could lean on my faith in God." Running away from God was never an option for her. She knew that to turn her back on the One who had protected and nurtured her all her life would be foolish. So she did the only thing she knew to do: she turned and ran into the loving arms of her Savior.

 

     Rick's funeral was held in Amarillo, Texas, on February 21. Against the backdrop of her husband's flag-draped coffin, Evelyn delivered his eulogy. "So where does my anguished soul turn?" she said. "Where can I find strength to love and nurture our two precious children that we prayed for, for so long? As I cried out in pain to Jesus last Saturday that the cost of losing Rick was too much . . . too painful to withstand, an answer flooded over me: 'Evelyn, I know what pain is . . . I died on the cross for you.' He died on the cross for all our sins. It doesn't matter whether you believe or not, whether you accept it or not . . . it does not alter the fact that it is true. This is God's legacy to us. He took our punishment for sin so that we could be eternally in God's holy presence. Rick believed in Jesus. He was real to Rick . . . What a legacy! My precious Rick is now safely home."

 

     Rick's life was immortalized, as much as it could be, by the circumstances surrounding his deathNASA created a memorial, the media published stories, and President Bush spoke these words in a commemorative speech: "Rick Husband was a boy of four when he first thought of being an astronaut. As a man, and having become an astronaut, he found it was even more important to love his family and serve his Lord. One of Rick's favorite hymns was 'How Great Thou Art,' which offers these words of praise: 'I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed.'" He concluded by reading Isaiah 40:26: "Lift your eyes and look to the heavens. Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing."

 

     Rick leaves behind a wife and two children who carry the mantle of his exuberant faith. From the way Evelyn is living out his final instructions to proclaim Jesus, I can't help but think he would be tremendously proud of her.

Tonya Stoneman

For a copy of Evelyn Husband's book High Calling, please visit our bookstore or contact your local In Touch office.