Before we jump into the 40th anniversary of the Challenger explosion – how can it possibly be 40 years?? – I wanted to welcome you back to the Gen-X Files. It's been a while since I've done one of these; my older sister died last March, and I found it's difficult to write about memories when someone who figured so prominently in them is gone. But, it's a new year and I was missin' the reminiscin', so we're back! I'll be dropping new Files every second and fourth Wednesday of the month.
So, on to today's Gen-X File: it's 40 years to the day since the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up 73 seconds after launch. Many Gen-Xers were watching it live from their classrooms to see the historic event of schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe, the first private citizen to become an astronaut, launched into space. If I remember correctly, there was a spacewalk planned and she was also going to conduct some science experiments live for schoolchildren.
I look forward to hearing where all of you were that day – at work? In class? At home with babies? And I'm happy to share my own story below; there's a bit of a plot twist with mine.
January 28, 1986
It was a chilly Tuesday morning when the Challenger astronauts – Christa McAuliffe, Gregory Jarvis, Judith A. Resnik, Francis R. "Dick" Scobee, Ronald E. McNair, Mike J. Smith and Ellison S. Onizuka – made their way from to the crew quarters to the launch pad at Kennedy Space Center. The launch had been delayed by a few days because of an unusually frigid weather system that had moved over Florida, but they looked to have a good launch window that day.
A tragedy that changed NASA forever
— Saffron Sniper (@Saffron_Sniper1) January 7, 2026
73 seconds after liftoff, hope turned into history’s most heartbreaking lesson..!
On Jan 28, 1986, Space Shuttle Challenger broke apart live on TV, killing all 7 astronauts, including teacher Christa McAuliffe. pic.twitter.com/wieDXNkNAs
Shuttle launches were common by then, but McAuliffe's presence on board brought out the media and the public's attention. It was a big deal.
The liftoff looked normal, but unseen to the naked eye was a flame that was already leaking from the right solid rocket booster due to a failed O-ring seal. A mere 73 seconds into the ascent, a catastrophic failure occurred when the external tank ruptured and released liquid hydrogen and oxygen. Aerodynamic forces tore the shuttle apart, and all on board perished after the crew capsule plummeted into the Atlantic Ocean.
My Story of January 28, 1986
I was in class at Bishop Denis J. O'Connell High School in Arlington, Virginia. I don't remember what class I was in at the time, but I remember the classroom itself quite clearly and the moment that the principal came over the PA to announce the shuttle had exploded. We weren't watching it live, but the news left everyone was stunned. I was distraught because my father, Jack O'Brien, was general counsel of NASA the day the Challenger exploded, a job he had only been in for around six months. He was also good friends with many of the astronauts in the program, including those aboard the Challenger that day.
Once class was dismissed, I ran to the pay phone down the hall and called my mother at work to get the latest on my dad. (Bless my mother, she always made sure I had a quarter on me to make a call.) He wasn't at Cape Canaveral for that launch, although he had attended many during his time at NASA; he watched everything unfold from his office at NASA headquarters in Washington, D.C.
I learned from my mom that Dad was heading down to Florida immediately, and was catching a ride on Air Force Two with Vice President George H.W. Bush; every Veep chairs the National Space Council. Any other day, I'd have been really impressed with that, but not that day. And I think my mom had to race home to pack a bag for Dad and somehow get it to Andrews Air Force Base.
SEE ALSO: How the Food Pyramid Tried to Kill Off Generation X
Gen-X Files: The Best TV Theme Songs From the 1970s
The rest of my school day was a blur, but I remember being home later in the day and catching all the footage on the non-stop news coverage. It's weird the stuff you remember during a time of trauma; I remember clear as day needing to get a live clam to dissect the next day in biology class. I remember watching an episode of Growing Pains that night. And I remember my mother screaming "Dad's tie is on TV!" from in front of the TV in her bedroom. It turns out one of the NASA officials taking part in a televised news conference from Cape Canaveral had on a necktie that didn't look good on camera, and the PR folks swapped it out for my dad's tie.
I don't remember how long exactly my dad stayed in Florida, but it was at least ten days. He was scarce at home for a long time; I found an old New York Times article where he discussed a lawsuit being brought against NASA by Mike Smith's family. He retired from NASA a few years later, and got an award before he left.
My dad receiving an award from Ronald Reagan, wearing his infamous brown suit, in 1988. pic.twitter.com/YOsp1GH0TW
— Teri Christoph (@TeriChristoph) January 26, 2026
Speaking of Ronald Reagan ...
President Reagan
Peggy Noonan might've turned into a RINO squish in her later years, but she was on her game that night. In her book, What I Saw at the Revolution, she wrote of being at home with her infant son when she got the call from the White House to whip up some remarks for President Reagan's address to the nation from the Oval Office.
She relied heavily on the 1941 sonnet High Flight by fighter pilot John Gillespie Magee Jr. of the Royal Canadian Air Force. It was a masterpiece delivered by a master orator.
We've grown used to the idea of space, and perhaps we forget that we've only just begun. We're still pioneers. They, the members of the Challenger crew, were pioneers.
We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and "slipped the surly bonds of earth'' to "touch the face of God."
We read Magee's poem at my father's burial service.
Where Were You?
The Challenger disaster was probably the first "where were you?" moment for Gen X since we weren't around for JFK's assassination. Since it's also an important event in my family's history, I appreciate hearing where people were that day. Please share your own story in the comments.
