Ilan Ramon, Israel's First Man In Space

A glimmer of light in a never-ending state of madness. In a climate of death, destruction, and despair came a man who hitched his dream to a star. Israel championed, encouraged, and basked in, the achievements of Ilan Ramon. It was February 1 2003, 1st day, 2nd month, 3rd year, when the dream came to an end. 16 days in space, and 16 minutes from home, the gleam of light went out.

Israel Air Force Colonel Ilan Ramon was a 48 years old fighter pilot, with a bachelor of science degree in electronics and computer engineering, which he obtained at the University of Tel Aviv in 1987.

After a distinguished career at home and abroad (he was a veteran of the 1973 Yom Kippur War, the 1981 strike against the Osirak nuclear reactor in Iraq, and the 1982 war in Lebanon), Ilan was nominated to be a NASA Payload Specialist by the Israel Air Force in 1997. He was approved by NASA the following year. He reported for training at the Johnson Space Center in Houston in mid-1998, and spent the following years preparing for his first space flight. A cause for celebration, the country's first astronaut taking off into space. It was an event that captured the imagination of Israelis everywhere, particularly schoolchildren who followed the launch and the journey, many involved in school projects surrounding the event.

At Tel Aviv University where Ilan had studied, a large number of students, professors, government ministers, and fellow Air Force officers gathered to celebrate the launch of Columbia with Ilan, 5 US, and an Indian-born astronaut on board. Ilan, whose mother and grandmother survived the Auschwitz death camp, honored those who endured the Holocaust. He carried a small pencil drawing titled "Moon Landscape" by Peter Ginz, a 14-year-old Jewish boy killed at Auschwitz.

He also packed a credit-card sized microfiche of the Bible given him by Israeli President Moshe Katsav, and some mezuzas. His father gave him family photos to take, and a brother packed a letter that Ilan read in orbit. For 16 days the country's population followed the exploits of Columbia. 'The world looks marvelous from up here - so peaceful, so wonderful and so fragile' said Ilan from Space. Then on February 1 2003 the Space Shuttle disintegrated as it re-entered the Earth's atmosphere. Ilan's near 80-year-old father was at the Channel 2 studios in Jerusalem, his wife Rona and their four children who have been living in Texas, were on-site for the landing. How could it all come to grief? How could all the billions of dollars spent on space research result in such a tragic end?

'He went in search of a better world', his wife told then-Prime Minister Sharon who telephoned her on the tragic day.

Israel no longer has an astronaut to carry its dreams into the unkown. It no longer has a man for schoolchildren to look up to. His dream has ended, but the journey goes on.

Whilst Israel can no longer celebrate him, it will remember Ilan Ramon, and honour him, always.

In a tragic aftermath to the 2003 tragedy, Ilan's son, Israel Air Force pilot Captain Asaf Ramon, 21, (pictured here with his father in 2003) was killed when the F-16A Falcon jet he was piloting crashed during a routine training flight near the southern Hebron Hills on September 13 2009. "Dad, Grandpa and Grandma, all your loved ones, will watch over you now, my child. My Asaf, take care of Dad. I know Dad will take care of you, and hug you now," Asaf's mother Rona said at his funeral at the military cemetery at Moshav Nahalal on Monday September 14 2009, which was attended by several hundred people including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Shimon Peres, Defense Minister Ehud Barak, Israel Defense Forces Chief Gabi Ashkenazi, and U.S. Peace envoy George Mitchell.

"A father and son followed their hearts and soared to the heavens in chariots of steel, crashing to the Earth in chariots of fire," Prime Minister Netanyahu said.

President Peres said in eulogy, "The State of Israel is lowering its flag, as a whole nation mourns the death of our fallen son. All of our hearts are broken today, because the personal child of the Ramon family was a child of all of us. The words that accompanied Asaf and his friends as they received their wings at graduation still echo in my ears - 'every plane that has flown in the sky, every star that lights up the eyes, reminds me of you' - those words, that touched the hearts of everybody at the parade grounds, have been crushed now before our eyes."