ENCORE: Challenger Disaster | Acceptable Risk | 2

Audible subscribers can binge new seasons of American Scandal early and ad-free right now, join Audible in the Audible app, or by subscribing on Apple podcasts. American Scandal uses dramatizations that are based on true events. Some elements, including dialogue, might be invented, but everything is based on historical research. A listener note, this episode originally aired in 2024. It's November 1982, inside the Utah headquarters of Thiacol, the company responsible for manufacturing the rocket boosters for NASA's Space Shuttle program. NASA Project Manager Larry Malloy squeezes his bulky frame past the glass door of a large conference room that's already full of Thiacol managers and engineers. Malloy is 48 years old and built like an NFL linebacker. He can be charming, but also intimidating, and in his 20-plus years at NASA, he's developed a reputation for getting things done. Now he's been tasked with managing the Shuttle solid rocket booster program, so he's trying to get up to speed quickly. Malloy is especially interested in the O-rings that sit on the joints between the various sections of the boosters. While preparing for this visit, he came across a report indicating that one of the O-rings recovered from the last Shuttle launch showed significant signs of burn damage. While the O-rings are a relatively simple component, they are critically important. If they were to fail during launch, burning fuel could leak from the booster and set off an explosion that could destroy the entire Shuttle. So Malloy is eager to learn exactly how and why the burn damage occurred, and whether this is the kind of problem that could delay the next launch of the Space Shuttle Columbia, which is only just days away. Malloy takes a seat at the table and pulls a yellow legal pad from his briefcase. He begins scribbling down notes as Thia calls manager and charge of the boosters kicks off the meeting. The manager begins with a history of the booster's development over the past decade. But as he's wrapping up, Malloy realizes he hasn't said anything about the O-rings, so Malloy speaks up. Well, thank you. I appreciate the background, but there's something you didn't mention. What can you tell me about the O-rings? On my flight over, I read a report about some Xinjiang found in the post-launch inspection. Oh, yep, my apology. I wasn't trying to be evasive. I just assumed you didn't want to get two in the weeds here on our first meeting. Yes, we did find some heat damage on one of the O-rings, but we consider it an anomaly. How short can you be of that? Well, we've had four Shuttle launches so far. Each launch has two boosters, and each booster has multiple O-rings. So at this point, there's probably been about 100 O-rings used in the launches, and only one has shown that level of damage. All right, so 1%, but let's say hypothetically on the next launch, we have another one of these anomalous O-rings, but this time it burns through completely. What would happen then? Well, each joint is fitted with two O-rings as a redundancy, so in your hypothetical scenario, the second O-ring would be there to do the job. And what if that second O-ring also experiences one of these anomalous burns? Well, in theory, there could be an explosion, but let's say, in the worst case scenario, one in every 100 O-rings fails completely, then the odds of two of them being on the same joint during the same launch are astronomical. Maybe one in 10,000. Yeah, but one in 10,000 isn't zero. We need some reassurances that you're working on a solution here. Well, of course, absolutely. We're studying the issue, and we're looking for ways to improve the design, and we're confident we'll get this O-ring thing resolved. The way I see it with all the complex novel technology on the shuttle, the last thing you need to worry about are these simple rubber gaskets. Okay, good. Well, I couldn't agree more. Let's move on. As the Thia call manager turns to the next item on the meeting agenda, Maloy feels satisfied with what he's heard about the O-rings, and he feels no need to raise the issue with his superiors at NASA. If Thia call is willing to sign off on the launch, then that's good enough for him. Well, Maloy knows that NASA is under intense pressure from the White House and Congress to increase the frequency of shuttle launches, so he certainly doesn't want to be the man responsible for any delays. Police Center by California are investigating the double murder of a young couple in the parking lot of their apartment complex. A double homicide grabs the public's attention by the throat. We have identified Christopher Dorner as a suspect in this double homicide. A former cop, and still on the loose. Considered armed and extremely dangerous. And scariest of all, he left something behind. A particular interest in multi-page manifesto. This manifesto on Facebook is 11 pages long. Trace, this manifesto from this suspect who's targeting cops. It's stunning. Listen to the show The New Yorker calls one of the best podcasts of the summer. Dan Tabersky's manifesto. And I tell you, this manifesto, excuse the hell out of me. Listen to Dan Tabersky's manifesto, wherever you get your podcasts, or binge the entire series right now, only with Audible. From Audible Originals, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American Scandal. In the 1960s, NASA dazzled the world with its engineering achievements, accomplishing things that once seemed impossible and capturing the imagination of the public. But even before Neil Armstrong stepped foot on the moon, NASA's leadership knew the tides were going to turn against them. Their Apollo program was costing the country a fortune, and with the war and Vietnam escalating, and the country headed for a recession. Sooner or later, they knew they were going to have to cut costs. So instead of building customized single-use rockets and spacecraft like they had been, NASA's engineers started designing space shuttles that could be flown over and over again, like a commercial airplane. And they were large enough to accommodate cargo missions paid for by the military and private industry. So when the budget cuts inevitably came, NASA would be ready. But in order to handle commercial and military cargo and stick to an aggressive launch schedule, NASA was forced to compromise on the design of their shuttles in critical ways. And in 1981, soon after the maiden voyage of the first shuttle Columbia, an issue emerged with its rocket boosters. Engineers at NASA Contractor Morton Thighhall began to find damage in the booster's o-rings. Thin gas gets made of synthetic rubber, which were supposed to be sufficiently heat resistant to prevent fuel leaks in the seams of the boosters. But the damage they found suggested that the o-rings could fail during launch. A small group of Thighhall engineers tried to raise the alarm, but officials at NASA were desperate to keep shuttle launches on schedule, and executives at Thighhall were determined to meet their demands. So the launches continued, and the space shuttle program inched closer to disaster. This is Episode 2, Acceptable Risk. It's March 2, 1984 in Huntsville, Alabama. Al Macdonald is sitting in a private jet, staring at the window as it touches down at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center. Macdonald is an engineering manager at Morton Thighhall, and he's here on a mission. He and his colleagues are meeting with Bill Lucas, director of the Marshall Space Flight Center, to reassure him that the engineering issues on Thighhall's solid rocket boosters are being addressed. In the 18 months since Thighhall's engineers first found a damaged o-ring in one of their rocket boosters, there has been a growing tension between the company and NASA. Some recent launches have continued to produce burned o-rings, and the linings on a handful of the boosters exhaust nozzles have burned right through in flight as well. Although these problems have yet to cause any catastrophic failures, NASA is growing impatient with Thighhall's inability to fix them, and there has been talk about the agency opening up their rocket booster contracts to other bidders, jeopardizing Thighhall's business with its most important client. So when his plane comes to a stop, Macdonald takes a deep breath, grabs his briefcase and heads for the exit, following behind two of his company's executives. Stepping out into the humid southern air, he mentally prepares for a grilling from Lucas. But before Macdonald's feet have even hit the tarmac, he sees another Thighhall employee sprinting toward the jet, and shouting. Between gasping breaths, the employee informs them that there's just been an explosion and fire at Thighhall's manufacturing facility back in Utah, the same one that makes the solid rocket boosters, and the early word is there may be multiple fatalities. Macdonald is stunned by the news, and horrified that workers in his plan, people he knows may have been killed. But he's also worried about walking into this meeting and trying to reassure NASA about the safety of Thighhall's rockets just minutes after an explosion at his own facility. So Macdonald looks to his bosses for what to do next, suggesting perhaps they should just head back to Utah. But the executives remind him that the fate of the company may be riding on this meeting, so they decide to move forward with it. As they head into the flight center building, Macdonald tries to figure out how he's going to spin this to Lucas. But by the time they've taken their seats across from Lucas, they get an update on the explosion. It turns out that several workers suffered injuries, but thankfully no one was killed. Lucas expresses relief, but is clear he's hardly reassured. He wants to know how How NASA is supposed to trust the high call to keep their astronauts safe when they can't even protect their own employees. He also wants to know how this incident will affect future shuttle launches. He reminds MacDonald and his colleagues that NASA is under tremendous pressure to stay on schedule, and the next launch is just weeks away. MacDonald tries to reassure Lucas that they have enough boosters already built for the immediate future, and they'll do everything they can to get the plant back up and running as quickly as possible. But Lucas seems unconvinced. But just as MacDonald feels himself withering under Lucas' pointed questions, the other thiacal executives interrupt, cutting the meeting short, explaining to Lucas that they should get back to Utah to survey the damage for themselves as soon as possible, and they'll call Lucas with updates that very evening. But as MacDonald rises from his seat and shakes Lucas's hand, he wonders if thiacal is about to lose its most important client. While Morton Thiacal rebuilds its damaged Utah plant, the company is able to transfer its rocket booster production to another facility, so that the plant explosion causes no delays to the space shuttle launch schedule. There are also no delays as a result of the burnt O-rings. NASA deems any safety concerns regarding the O-rings as an acceptable risk. But by the summer of 1984, the American public's enthusiasm for space travel has once again begun to wane. It's been more than three years since the first shuttle launch, and NASA has launched ten more shuttles since then. It's a tremendous feat, but the public has come to see these missions as routine, even boring, which presents a new problem for NASA. The agency knows their funding ultimately relies on public support so they continuously look for new ways to capture the imagination of the average American, and the idea that keep coming back to is sending a civilian into space. We consider all types of people, including journalists like Walter Cronkite and even the musician John Denver. But after much deliberation, it's decided that the first civilian in space should be someone who can inspire America's children, a school teacher. When the ideas presented to President Ronald Reagan in July of 1984, he seizes on it immediately. With a presidential election just four months away, Reagan is eager to stamp his name on what's sure to be a popular initiative. So in August, he announces the teacher in space program while visiting a junior high school in Washington. And over the next few months, thousands of teachers submit applications to NASA. It seems like everyone who works in education is caught up in the excitement, including a 36-year-old New Hampshire high school teacher named Christa McCollough. That November McCollough is attending a conference for social studies teachers at the Hilton Hotel in Washington, D.C. She's dashing between meeting rooms with her friend and fellow teacher Eileen O'Hara, trying to make it in time for a talk on women's history. McCollough teaches a class titled "The American Woman." So this is a session she doesn't want to miss. But as they approach the meeting room, a booth about NASA's new teacher in space program catches McCollough's eye. She grabs O'Hara's hand. Eileen, hold on. I want to check this out. Oh yeah, I saw something on the news about this. So great, there's any a teacher first. Can you imagine? One of us up there in orbit? What would be an adventure? McCollough grabs a brochure showing astronauts smiling as they float in zero gravity inside a shuttle. I wonder what sort of teacher they're looking for, probably physics or math I bet. Why not social studies, Christa? You should apply. No, the odds are one and a million. No, but I'm serious. I bet even just applying would be an inspiration to your students. Well, that's a good point. A NASA would be lucky to have you. You're the smartest, hardest working teacher I know, and just think you'd be a real celebrity. You probably get to hang out with Neil Armstrong. Go to the White House. I don't care about any of that stuff, but it would be great for my students. I tell them every day they can accomplish anything they put their mind to. And this would set a pretty good example. So what? So take an application. Okay, I'll take an application. But I'm grabbing enough for you and the other teachers too. We'll do it all together. McCollough grabs a stack of applications and stuffs them into her purse. And as she hurries to the talk on women's history, those images of smiling astronauts continue to run through her mind. As Christa McCollough completes her application process, the pace of shuttle launches continues to accelerate. Over the next four months, there are three more launches, one by Challenger and two by Discovery, the newest shuttle in the fleet. And when Discovery's rocket boosters are recovered from the Atlantic Ocean in January of 1985, one of Thigh Calls engineers is especially eager to see how they perform. Roger Bozule has been working in the Solid Rocket Booster Division for several years, and he's been trying to make continuous improvements to the safety of their design. But lately, he's been feeling like his superiors are brushing off more and more of his concerns, especially around the reliability of the O-rings. So when he observes the condition of the boosters recovered from the Space Shuttle Discovery, Bozule feels he has to act. He requests an emergency meeting with NASA, and the very next day, Bozule finds himself seated at the head of a large conference table at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville. He is joined by three dozen NASA engineers and managers packed into the room to hear what he's found. So as Bozule looks around, he feels a notenestemic, knowing they're not going to like when he has to say. The feeling isn't entirely unusual for Bozule. He has a reputation for being overly cautious when it comes to safety issues, and sometimes he lets his emotions get the best of him. But Bozule knows the O-rings better than anybody, and he can't sugarcoat what he's seen. Bozule begins the meeting by holding up several large, clear plastic bags. Inside the bags are the O-rings he's stripped from Discovery's boosters during yesterday's inspection. And as NASA engineers pass these bags around the room, Bozule reads from his notes, outlining what he found. He explains that a properly functioning O-ring should be covered in the yellow grease that was applied between the primary and backup O-rings on the booster's joint before launch. But as everyone in the room can see, the grease is now dark black, and the O-rings are covered in soot. Not only that, portions of two O-rings have been completely incinerated. Bozule explains that in one joint in particular, flames leaking from the booster had burned through both the primary and backup O-rings. This means that for the first time, a flame had reached through the seal to the outer casing of the booster during launch. If this flame had spread much farther, it could have ruptured the shuttle's larger central fuel tank during lift-off, causing the entire vehicle to explode. Bozule looks solemnly around the table, trying to gauge if the gravity of the situation is sinking in. He'd like to tell the group that Discovery's astronauts are lucky to be alive, but he knows how a statement like that would be received, so he decides to bite his tongue. Still, there's another opinion that Bozule knows he can't hold back, so he takes a deep breath and tells the room they're probably not gonna want to hear what he has to say next. In Bozule's expert opinion, the O-rings were damaged by low temperatures. Two days before launch, Florida had experienced a record-breaking cold front, with temperatures dropping as low as 18 degrees Fahrenheit. A shuttle and a solid rocket booster had already been positioned on the launch pad at the time of the deep freeze, so those low temperatures could have easily cracked the synthetic rubber of the O-rings, or compromised the flame retardant substance used to seal them. The room falls silent, and then after what feels like an eternity, Bozule hears a single voice speak up from the corner of the room. A NASA official tells Bozule that he's right, nobody wanted to hear that. You stepped out for your morning jog, except it's not your usual morning jog. You started listening to an epic sci-fi book, Unaudible. 30 chapters later, you've accidentally run a half marathon. You lost track of how far you've run, somewhere just past the city limits. You can't stop. You have to find out what happens next. Then it's over. The universe seems bigger. You feel different. You feel like you have no idea where you are. Audible. Stories that speak to you. And what if AI could recreate the voice of somebody you loved who died? What if it destroyed your reputation with words you never said? And what if you fell in love with something that was never human? I'm Mark Vannell, and in my brand new Audible original podcast, I'm travelling the globe to investigate the very personal ways. AI is already changing our relationships, our memories, and our sense of what is real. Unreal. Listen now, Unaudible. In February 1985, Morton Thiacol engineer Roger Bojolay starts gathering scientific evidence to prove his theory that cold temperatures could have damaged the O-rings on the space shuttle Discovery. At Thiacol's headquarters in Utah, Bojolay and his supervisor, Al Macdonald, collect data from all of the previous rocket booster tests and shuttle launches. They also run new lab tests on O-rings exposing them to a variety of temperatures. These test shows that in temperatures under 75 degrees, the soft rubber rings become hardened and take longer to expand into the gaps in the booster's joints. And when temperature falls below 50 degrees, the O-rings never fully expand at all. For Bojolay, this is all the proof he needs that colder weather is what is causing the O-rings to fail. But the upper management at Thiacol and NASA decide that Bojolay's data is inconclusive, and when it comes time And for the next launch in April of 1985, Thia Call's official risk analysis report to NASA states that the O-Ring's performance is acceptable. With that reassurance, NASA moves forward. Its next three launches go off without a hitch, but then, in a July 1985 launch, a shuttle Challenger experiences a different issue, one that nearly ends in catastrophe. Just as the Challenger is about to leave Earth's atmosphere, one of its three engines shuts down. The astronauts are barely able to get their crippled shuttle into orbit, avoiding an extremely dangerous emergency landing. The Challenger returns safely to Earth a few days later, but this incident leaves the astronauts and mission control workers shaken. Fortunately for NASA, a bigger space-related news story is distracting the public. That same month, NASA selects the first participant for its teacher and space program. In a televised ceremony at the White House, Vice President George Bush announces that from a pool of more than 11,000 applicants, NASA has chosen New Hampshire High School teacher, Christa McCollough. Overnight, McCollough is famous. She receives hundreds of calls from reporters desperate to interview her and movie producers, angling for the rights to her life story. It's an overwhelming experience for a humble social studies teacher and mother of two. McCollough applied to the program out of a sincere desire to inspire his students. Becoming famous was the farthest thing from her mind, but just weeks after the announcement, she finds herself getting the star treatment on one of America's most popular talk shows. On July 31st, 1985 in Burbank, California, McCollough walked out from behind the tonight show's iconic Rainbow Curtain and takes a seat opposite host Johnny Carson. For McCollough, looking out at the cameras and the studio audience is a surreal experience. But she reminds herself that this is about more than just her. She's here to represent NASA in the teaching profession. So she smiles graciously and tries to keep her cool, as Johnny Carson asks his first question. Now you've done so many news conferences and so many TV shows from being a school teacher. By the way, what classes do you teach? I teach economics and law, and of course I develop called the American Woman, which explores social history. I also teach American history to 11th and 12th graders. Now all of a sudden you're a national person. You're in the news all the time. Has it been more than you're able to handle? Well, right now it's a lot of fun and I'm enjoying doing this. One of the things that's been nice because I don't have school this summer is that this is the only way I can get the message across my students. I don't have a chance to get into the classroom right now. Oh boy, are you going to get a welcome when you come back this fall? Oh, I'm sure. How did this all come about? I guess, and you would know better than I. The reason they want this is so somebody could come back and report, not a technical or engineering sense. But what a regular person would feel like up there. Is that the idea? Well, NASA has a space participant program. I'm in the first category, which is teachers, but there will be other ones. They want to get people ownership to show that the space program belongs to everybody. And the other thing was to try and find somebody who would be a very good communicator with impact on as many people as possible and what better person than a teacher. I assume someone would also have to be a good health, strenuous physical training. You have to be in good shape, don't you? In the first astronaut programs, people did have to be because they experienced so many G-forces when taking off. But for a space participant, it's different. With these new shuttles, the demands are much less today. And when is this schedule for? Do they have a target day for you to, as they say, blast off? The target date is January 22nd. But with emissions being bombed a bit because of the problems that they've had, I assume it's more like February. Are you in any way frightened by something like that? I mean, it's a normal question, because just the other day it was, they kind of had a frightening thing where one of the engines went out. McCall of hesitates before answering, knowing she'll have to choose her words carefully. I haven't really thought of it in those terms, because I see the shuttle program is very safe. And the one said, "Deak Slatin," I think, I may be giving credit to the wrong astronaut. They asked him, "How do you feel when you're up there in the capsule?" And he said, "It's a strange feeling when you realize every part on this capsule was made by the lowest bidder." McCall of laughs along with the audience, relieved to have a moment of levity. But as the interview continues, Carson's words stick with her, and the more she thinks about the joke, the less funny it seems. In September of 1985, six weeks after her appearance on the tonight show, Christa McCall of packs her bags and travels to Houston to begin her training. As the first civilian in space, her training is much shorter and less rigorous than the other astronauts. So she spends much of her time in Houston preparing for the lesson she plans to broadcast live to students while in orbit. Some of the veteran astronauts, including those who will be assigned to her flight on the challenger, are dismissive of McCall of. They see the teacher in space program as a publicity stunt, and they know that in an emergency, McCall of would be virtually no help to them. But over time, McCall of begins to win them over. Judy Resnick, the only other woman on the challenger crew, even helps McCall of learn the scientific principles she'll need for her teaching lessons. But not every part of challenger's preparations is going smoothly. At Morton Thiacom, an engineer named Bob Ebbling is growing increasingly worried that the task force assigned to fix the o-ring issue is not getting the attention it needs. Now in his late 50s, Ebbling has been with Thiacol for 25 years, and during that time he's analyzed the performance of countless booster rockets. Out on the testing range, he's witnessed what happens when a rocket's engine experiences elic. He knows that even the tiniest leak can cause a massive explosion, and he's haunted by what could happen if elic occurred during a shuttle launch, and by the idea that the astronauts aboard could be sent to their deaths by a booster that he was responsible for. So in October of 1985, Ebbling writes a memo to Thiacol senior managers outlining his concerns. The memo begins with the word "help" in all capital letters. Ebbling then lays out in detail how the task force is being hampered by corporate bureaucracy and how Thiacol employees in the manufacturing and procurement departments are standing in the way of making the necessary changes. But Ebbling's memo doesn't do much. Both Thiacol and NASA are sticking to their promise to dramatically increase the frequency of shuttle missions, and with each passing launch, Ebbling grows more uneasy. He knows from his colleague Roger Bojolay that cold temperatures are one of the biggest points of concern around the O-Rinks. Winter is fast approaching. So finally, one day in late autumn, Ebbling reaches his breaking point. He's sitting in his office at Thiacol's Utah headquarters, pouring over a report on the latest O-Ring tests when his mind flashes back to a recent TV news story about the teacher turned astronaut, Christa McCollough. He remembers the images of McCollough teaching in her classroom and sitting at home with her husband and young children. He can't bear to think that he might be responsible for killing her. So he decides he needs to do something, anything to prevent that from happening. Ebbling rises from his desk, grabs a stack of papers and heads into the hallway. Or come by emotions, he begins storming up and down the corridor, arms flailing, and yelling at his colleagues that they need to shut down the rocket production immediately. Ebbling stops in the doorway of the rocket division's main conference room, where he finds some of his co-workers. He pleads with him to listen, warning that astronauts are going to be killed and that blood will be on their hands. He shouts that they need to lock the gates of the booster production facility and stop sending their faulty rockets to NASA. And Ebbling's colleagues barely raise their heads in his direction. This may be Ebbling's most dramatic tirade, but it's not the first. And the more he rants about O-rings, the less attention they pay him. So one of the managers calmly tells Ebbling to quit being dramatic and go back to his office. But before he leaves, Ebbling strides into the conference room, slams down the stack of papers he was holding onto the table. He tells his fellow engineers to look for themselves because all the data is there, proving that the O-rings pose an unacceptable risk. Imagine you're reading Pride and Prejudice, except you're not reading it. Harris Dickinson and Marissa Obella are reading it to you, unordable. Her Barb sting you. His coldness sends a shiver up your spine. Your heart aches, your ears burn. You yearn for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to profess their undying love for one another. You can't bear it any longer. Well, maybe a chapter longer. Performance is so good, you'll give love a second chance. Audible. What if AI could recreate the voice of somebody you loved who died? I'm Mark Vannell and in my brand new Audible original podcast, I'm travelling the globe to investigate the very personal ways, IIs already changing our relationships, our memories, and our sense of what is real. Unreal. Listen now, unordable. By the end of 1985, there's a growing sense of panic among the engineers on Morton Diakall's O-ring task force. As they scramble to redesign the joints of their solid rocket boosters, they make repeated appeals to NASA to take the O-ring issues more seriously. But NASA has no intention of slowing down. As 1985 comes to a close, they're preparing for their most ambitious launch schedule yet, aiming to carry out 50. flight over the next 12 months, ferrying a wide variety of payloads into orbit, including top secret military equipment and the revolutionary Hubble Space Telescope. They also plan to build on the excitement of their teacher and space program by sending up more civilians. But NASA's ambitions run headfirst into a series of exasperating delays. A planned launch of the newly upgraded Shuttle Columbia in December of 1985 is pushed half a dozen times due to poor weather and various technical failures, including a malfunction of the steering system and one of thigh-call solid rocket boosters. These delays leave NASA management increasingly frustrated and more desperate than ever to get back on schedule. But as the ground crews race to make up for lost time, they're getting burned out. Some have worked 12 hour days, 40 days in a row without a break. And to keep up with management's demanding schedule, they begin skipping hundreds of routine maintenance tasks. But the technical problems and delays are conquered, and Columbia finally launches on January 12th, 1986. The next event on the schedule is the eagerly anticipated launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger, on the mission that will carry teacher Christa McCullough into space. But after all the delays to Columbia, NASA is left with just two weeks before Challenger scheduled to lift off. Barring any further postponements, it will be the fastest turnaround time between launches in the shuttle program's history, a record NASA is eager to set. And on January 24th, less than 48 hours before the scheduled launch of Challenger, the astronauts and their families gather at a quaint seaside cottage just down the beach from the launch pad in Cape Canaveral, Florida. This is their last chance to enjoy a little time together before the astronauts are quarantined in preparation for their journey into space. The cottage retreat has become part of a pre-launched tradition at NASA, and for June Scoby, it's a welcome event. She's the wife of Challenger's commander, Dick Scoby, and has grown close to the other families over the past few months. And as the other astronauts and their spouses arrive, she happily volunteers to take photos of the couples lounging together on the living room's burnt orange furniture. There's pilot Michael Smith, mission specialists Ellison Onizuka, Ron McNair, and Judy Resnick, payload specialist Greg Jarvis and teacher Tristan McCollough. Then Scoby hands off the camera and poses for a photo with her husband, Dick, wrapping her arm over his shoulder and pulling him tight. As the cottage fills with the astronauts, spouses, parents, and children, the gathering becomes like a full-on family reunion. June enjoys barbecued ribs and potato salad, and laughs as the astronauts share war stories from their training. When the Scoby's finished eating, Dick suggests that the two of them go for a walk on the beach. June likes the sound of that, knowing this will be the last time she gets to spend alone with her husband before the launch. But when she steps out on the deck, she's struck by how cold it is, far different from the warm floor to weather she's been expecting. So she heads inside to grab a coat before heading down the beach with Dick. June then takes her husband's hand as they walk along the beach, listening to the ways of the Atlantic crash into the sand, and chatting about plans for the family's future. This is set to be Dick's final flight as an astronaut. They've recently become grandparents for the first time. And as they continue further down the beach, the challenger itself comes to the site in the distance, waiting on the launch pad. Dick points toward the shuttle and remarks that it's going to be his new home for a while. Then June feels her husband's hand on her waist, and he stops walking and turns her toward him. She can see the sun setting just behind his shoulders as he stands with his back to the ocean. He begins singing to June, and she smiles as she listens to the lyrics, "For you are beautiful, and I have loved you dearly." She recognizes the old folk song "The Last Farewell." But as Dick gets to the chorus, the lyrics become darker. I have no fear of death, it brings no sorrow, but how bitter will be this last farewell. June wonders why her husband shows this particular song. Perhaps he feels something is different about this final mission that he hasn't shared with her. Maybe with all the recent delays and the mad rush to get challenger off the ground, Dick is a little more worried about the launch than he's letting on. But when Dick finishes the song, the sun is fully set, and the head back toward the cottage. June shivers in the cold, considering asking her husband if the song had any deeper meaning. But it was such a sweet, romantic moment. She doesn't want to spoil it. So she walks back to the cottage silently, hand in hand with Dick, keeping her worries to herself. Challenger's launch is scheduled for Sunday, January 26th, but it gets delayed following a weather forecast that calls for a high probability of thunderstorms during the launch window. In a silver lining, though, the delay allows the astronauts and NASA crew to watch the Super Bowl. The launch is rescheduled for Monday, but at 8.30 am that morning, NASA's quality insurance inspector, Johnny Corlu, encounters another problem. Corlu is 195 feet up on the launch tower that stands next to Challenger. He's huddled with a handful of other crew in what's known as the White Room, a small area just outside the hatch where the astronauts enter the shuttle. Wearing a white NASA jumpsuit and holding a clipboard, he's working his way through a checklist, making final preparations for launch. The seven astronauts have just stepped into the shuttle, and the hatch door has been sealed behind them. The scheduled launch time is just one hour away at 9.30 am. But the string of recent delays and the quick turnaround time between launches have left Corlu as exasperated and burned out as anyone else in NASA. And as an added concern, the temperature has dropped to 40 degrees this morning. Corlu blows on his hands to keep them warm as he works. He can't wait to finally get Challenger off the ground. But as he checks the instrument panel on the wall of the White Room, he spots the problem. It looks like the hatch that just closed behind the astronauts has not fully locked. Corlu and his crew eventually determine that it's an issue with the sensors, and when they finally get the sensors fixed, they're almost ready to launch. But now there's another problem. The hatch door has a temporary handle that must be removed before launch. Ordinarily, this is one of the simplest parts of the pre-launch procedure. But when his men try to unscrew the handle, they find that one of the bolts can't be removed. It seems to have been stripped and just spins in its socket. Corlu radios down to the ground asking for a power drill to remove the bolt, but he's told none are available and they'll have to have one driven in. It's now 10.30 am and there are an hour behind schedule. But when the power drill finally arrives, Corlu is furious to see that it's batteries dead. He sends for a fresh battery, but those don't work either. So Corlu calls for a new drill altogether and thankfully this one powers up. But the bolt still just spins in place. They're now nearly two hours behind schedule and with the launch window rapidly closing, Corlu is at his wit's end. He picks up the phone that connects to the engineers in charge of the launch. Hey look, we're not getting any traction on this bolt. We've got a hacksaw up here, number requesting permission to just saw through the thing. Corlu waits to get approval then hangs up the phone and turns to a member of his crew. All right, we're just going to cut it. Corlu waits as his men take turns, sawing through the thick steel bolt. But just as the bolt is finally removed, he gets more bad news. The launch has been canceled because the winds have grown too strong. Exhausted and defeated, Corlu opens the hatch to let the astronauts out. The last one out is Commander Dick Scoby. Corlu helps him remove his safety harness. Not Dick, I'm awful sorry about this. Hate to scrub another launch after leaving you guys sitting in there for hours. Hey, Johnny, don't worry about it. These things happen. I know. I just wish it wasn't something as silly as a bolt on the door handle. My team's going to get in earful. Well, we'll just try again tomorrow. It should be plenty of time for you fellas to find some new bolts. Yeah, that's the thing, though. I think we missed our best window to launch for the next few days. It's already near freezing and there's a cold front coming in. I say it's going to drop into the low 29. Well, we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it. But thankfully, it's not our call, right? NASA pays the rocket scientists in Huntsville to worry about that. Right now, I'm just thinking about getting back inside and wrapping my hands around a hot mug of coffee. Corlu watches the astronauts take the elevator to the bottom of the tower, where a silver minibus nicknamed the Astrowman is waiting to take them back to their quarters. He appreciates Kobe's good-natured optimism, but Corlu is certain the mission will be delayed further. You can't imagine NASA will approve a launch for tomorrow when the temperature is set to drop below freezing. From audible originals, this is episode two of the Challenger disaster from American scandal. In our next episode, debate erupts within NASA and Morton Diacol about whether to launch in frigid temperatures, leading to a showdown between the engineers and management. But the teacher and space mission of the Space Shuttle Challenger will finally lift off. American scandal is only possible because of listeners like you, so thank you, and don't miss an episode. Be sure to follow American scandal on Audible or wherever you get your podcasts. An audible subscriber can binge new seasons of American scandal early and ad-free right now. Join Audible in the Audible app or by subscribing on Apple podcasts, and to find out more about me, including my other podcasts, my live show, the history tours I'm arranging and all sorts of other things, go to historyishuman.com. That's historyishuman.com. This episode contains reenactments and dramatized details. In while in most cases, we can't know exactly what was said. All our dramatizations are based on historical research. American scandal is hosted, edited, and executed produced by me, Lindsay Graham, for airship. This episode is written in research by Corey Metcalf, edited by Emma Cortland, senior producer Andy Vakerman, managing producer Emily Berg, fact-checking by Alyssa Jung Perry. Audio editing by Christian Paraga, original music by Throne, sound design by Gabriel Gould. Executive producer for Airship is William Simpson. Executive producer for Audible is Jenny Lauer Beckman, Head of Creative Development at Audible Kate Naven, Head of Audible Originals North America Marshal Louis, Chief Content Officer Rachel Giazza. Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC, Sound recording Copyright 2026 by Audible Originals LLC. [BLANK_AUDIO]