I was taking pictures with 35mm slide film that day (no digital!) because I wanted the nicest shots possible from our vantage point 2 miles away from the launch pad. I used up every last shot on my roll of film in the first 30 seconds of the launch. I then dropped the camera from my eye and took in the spectacle of it all, and the horror that shortly unfolded.
The actual explosion was quite confusing at first. Our vantage point was looking almost straight up the column of exhaust from the rocket engines as the shuttle sped almost directly away from us. The vehicle was actually occluded from our view. It wasn't until several seconds after the explosion that the first, spectacular tendrils of falling debris became visible to us. Soon afterward, it was apparent something had gone horribly wrong. The solid rocket boosters were cantering off and zipping around at crazy angles. We kept looking for the orbiter -- certain it must have detached "by design" and must be winging its way to a relatively safe landing. Eventually we were able to see a parachute and the consensus among spectators for a while was that the orbiter must be attached to it ... obviously some safety mechanism.
While we watched and speculated, NASA officials and security were quietly (and unnoticed by us) cordoning off the area so that nobody could leave ... we were on lock-down. NASA officials also unobtrusively took up positions throughout the crowd of spectators. I eventually noticed one about 30 feet away from me. Just quietly standing there - - NASA emblem on his jacket. sunglasses, stoic expression, quiet. People were quietly approaching him one-by-one. They would mutter something to him, he would mutter something back, and they would leave to return to the rest of their party.
Eventually, my curiosity overcame me and I approached the official, noticing the cordoned off roadway for the first time. A lady stepped out just in front of me as I approached the official, and she asked the question before I could: "what just happened?" Her voice was earnest and truly puzzled. The official remained stoic and barely moved. He said "I believe we just saw seven brave astronauts die, ma'am." I fought very hard to control my emotions (something I do not seem to be able to do as well these 25 years later) and returned to tell my friends the news. It was hours before we were allowed to board our tour buses and leave, and it was hours more before we were able to get back to our hotel and actually see what had been televised around the world for so many hours already. What a horrible day -- God bless that crew and their families.
