I knew it was coming, but I heard it before I saw it. A great roar of jet engines compelled me to move outside to the front porch of my daughter’s home in Seal Beach, Calif. I looked skyward just as the giant 747 aircraft carrying the space shuttle Endeavor glided over my head toward the Pacific Ocean’s edge, two jet fighter guardians trailing to the sides.
I felt I could reach up and touch it. My chest tightened as my eyes, inexplicably, misted over. Surprised by this emotional response, I later realized it came from the shared experience of hundreds of thousands of Americans who saw the Endeavor make her final cross-country journey.
For one fleeting, shiny moment, we were united in remembering the pride of accomplishing something large and grand.
And, boy, does American need that now.