Word: sky
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...wound up with a degree in physics and a chance to do what he had wanted ever since he was 3. At his old grade school in Avondale, Ariz., where his sister teaches, there were shuttle-shaped posters saying YOU ARE MY HERO, MICHAEL ANDERSON and THE SKY'S THE LIMIT. A new model of the space shuttle had just arrived, and kids flocked to it in the library...
Outside Mission Control, in the hot path the flaming Columbia cut through the sky, no one needed to see computer data to know the day had taken a bad turn. In Nacogdoches, Texas, 17-year-old Heath Drewery was in bed when he was jolted by what sounded like an explosion outside his house. "I heard this big rumble and thought a train had derailed," he says. He and his brother piled into their truck and drove into town, where the street was littered with debris. "There were pieces all over the place. It looked like it was charcoal...
Under the wide and starry sky,/ Dig the grave and let me lie..." You know you're on a true literary pilgrimage when your taxi driver can recite Robert Louis Stevenson's Requiem in the time it takes to wind five kilometers up the hill from Apia to the old plantation home of Vailima. It was here that the Scottish writer (1850-1894) - who blended boy's-own adventure with psychological insight and a sense of history in such tales as Treasure Island, The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and The Body Snatchers - came...
...ground, half a mile from where the bomb dropped, Michiko Yamaoka, then a 15-year-old student, saw the same flash. Today she describes it as like a burst of light from an unearthly photo shoot, big enough to cover the sky, "blue-yellow and very beautiful." Yamaoka was blown off her feet. When she came to, she had burns all over her body, and, she says, she could "hear people calling out for help and the crackle of fire coming from burning houses ... people moaning from pain, with eyes popped out and intestines coming out of their stomachs...
...atop the Pão de Açucar, a prominence circled by Guanabara Bay, facing the city, and I see Rio soaking in its own mild winter (scoff!) sunset, the waves washing up against the city lights. I kneel on the ground and lift my arms to the sky, weeping and shouting “No!” for a substantial amount of time...