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On a clear summer night back in 1983, I was standing by an Iowa road. One of my trucks had broken down, and I was fixing it.

It was one of those nights you don't forget; the stars were out in all their glory, the wide belt of the Milky Way above me. It was not possible to be out there under that sky and not look up in wonder.

Suddenly my eye was drawn to the southeast. A streak of fire was rising into that gorgeous night sky; arching gracefully but forcefully upwards.

I had been busy with work, not paying any attention to the news. But it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was: the Space Shuttle Columbia blasting off on what I believe was the first night launch.

It was amazing, a sight I will always remember.

A few years later I saw Columbia riding atop its 747---they made a flyaround and stopover in Omaha at Offutt Airbase, then the home of the Strategic Air Command.

Those are the two times I laid eyes on Columbia---experiences I will always treasure in my heart.