Gabby_ A Story of Courage and Hope - Alison Hanson [127]
The kids, their teachers, those of us in space—we all knew the subtext. But I tried hard to be upbeat, like a friendly adult brought in for show-and-tell. I wore a red Arizona T-shirt, and when the Earth-to-space link was established, I said with enthusiasm: “Mesa Verde Elementary School, how do you hear?”
The kids cheered wildly, and then, one by one, stepped up to the microphone. Their questions—and questions I later received from students at Tucson’s Gridley Middle School—were familiar to me. When Claudia and Claire were younger, I often spoke to their classes about life as an astronaut. I’d also given talks to other groups of students many times.
One of the students from Tucson asked how I adjusted to zero gravity.
“The first time you fly, it takes a while to get used to it,” I answered. “There’s no up and down anymore, and the fluids in your body shift. You don’t feel so well. But this is my fourth flight, and it seems like my body remembers what this is all about. I can adjust more quickly.”
“How do you sleep in space?” another student asked.
“You could sleep floating around,” I said, “but you’d bump into other people and wake them up. We sleep in sleeping bags with a bunch of straps and hooks. Sometimes, people sleep on the ceiling. It takes a while to get used to. My first night in space I got in my sleeping bag and rolled over on my side, like I would in bed. That was dumb. There is no side, or up or down. You might as well stay in the position you’re in.”
The next question: “How do you shower in space?”
“We don’t have a shower,” I said. “We take a bath like someone would in a hospital bed, with a towel, water, and soap. You rub soap on and wipe it off later. It’s not the greatest, but it works for two weeks.”
Another student asked what inspired me to be an astronaut. I thought this was a good chance to mention Christina, and how she’d been a dreamer.
“Over the last four months,” I said, “I’ve come to admire your classmate, Christina Green, very much. I’ve learned a lot about her.
“When I was Christina’s age, that’s when Apollo astronauts were walking on the moon. I remember watching that on TV and thinking if I worked really hard in school and really, really concentrated, maybe someday I would have the opportunity to fly in space.” I didn’t exactly tell the kids the full story—that I was a late bloomer on the academic front. I figured it was better to just encourage them to start early.
As the session ended, I had a surprise for the Mesa Verde kids. “Since my wife, Congresswoman Giffords, is from Tucson, I spend a lot of time there,” I said. I showed them the Mesa Verde Mountain Lions 2010–2011 yearbook I had brought with me into space. I held it up in front of the camera. “I’ll get a picture of this with the Earth in the background, and I’ll bring it back and hand it over to your school,” I promised. “I’m opening up to the pages here honoring Christina. It’s a very nice yearbook. Mike and I just signed it, and I’ll get my other crew members to sign it.”
I twirled the yearbook and it floated like a spinning top in front of me as I waved goodbye to Christina’s friends and classmates.
Gabby had selected U2’s “Beautiful Day” as my crew’s wake-up song during my 2006 mission, back when we were dating. Bono, the band’s lead singer, once explained that the song is about someone who has suffered great losses in his life, yet finds joy in what he still has. That had meaning for Gabby, long before she was injured.
Gabby once said to me, “Mark, I really love you, but there is one person on the planet I’d leave you for.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Bono,” she said.
“Well, I like Bono, too,” I told her. But I’d never give up without a fight.
Before the launch of STS-134, by coincidence, I received a surprise e-mail from Bono. He had an idea he wanted to discuss with me and asked if we could speak by phone. His idea turned out to be a creative one. He wanted me to send greetings from space to every city on his current tour, while letting some of the lyrics to