As Kevin points out, people deal with tragedy in different ways. The horrible end of Columbia and her seven passengers have given me an opportunity to observe those around me and to know them better.
My father was moved and affected and terribly saddened. The only other time I have observed him like this was when Emily died, and my father held the news for a week before I returned to the United States. When I talked to him on Sunday, he was unable to express exactly how he was feeling or why he was feeling it. He needed to talk, but he couldn't find words. I probably would have been surprised if he had been able to describe his feelings precisely; my father usually expresses his emotions through actions, taking care of what needs to be done. For example, when our old cat Midnight died while my parents were away, Dad said he wished he had been home to do the honors of taking care of Midnight's body.
My parents, in the Dallas area, heard the boom of Columbia breaking up. No doubt that makes it harder for them.
Actually, no one seems quite able to express his feelings about the Columbia. Aquarion, whom I would have expected to comment in some way or another, hasn't made a peep. Maybe he doesn't know quite what to say. I really don't blame him. I didn't know what to say either, which is why my first entry was so brief.
For my part, as a realistic optimist, I would like to see the bright side. Of course it all sucks like a black hole. There's no getting around that! But at the same time, it's exceptional that there has not been a single safety-related incident in the space program since 1986. Obviously I wish that timespan were infinite, but realistically, it's not, and I am thankful for the blessing that we have had. There is also no doubt that this tragedy will give a new impulse to NASA safety precautions. We all forget that it can happen to us.
The other semi-positive thing? Bush has got to be livid that it's taking attention away from his war with Iraq. But I doubt that it will help much in the end.