Yesterday was the anniversary of the Challenger explosion and I probably should have shared this then, but oh well. — Dan

The Library That Turned Away an Astronaut

On January 28, 1986, tragedy struck the United States. The Space Shuttle Challenger, carrying a crew of seven, took off on mission STS-51-L, its tenth trip into space. But the mission did not go as planned. One minute and 13 seconds after launch, the shuttle broke into pieces, killing all seven aboard. The flight was the first one to have a private citizen on board, drawing exceptional attention to the launch; memories and the historical importance persist to this day. And all seven crewmembers have been honored in various ways, posthumously, back here on Earth.

And one of those memorials helped right a historical wrong.

Ronald McNair, pictured above playing the sax in low gravity, was a physicist and astronaut aboard the Challenger on that fateful day. It was supposed to be his second time going to space — on February 3, 1984, he was onboard the Challenger for mission STS-41-B, a nearly 8-day trip orbiting the Earth. Like most astronauts, McNair was very well educated — he was his high school valedictorian, graduated cum laude from North Carolina A&T, and earned a Ph.D. at MIT. But growing up in an era before personal computers and the internet, he had to do something few students regularly now do: he went to the library.

And unfortunately, that wasn’t as simple as it should have been.

McNair was born and raised in Lake City, South Carolina, toward the end of the Jim Crow era. He was naturally curious and wanted to learn more about science than he had learned in school, and that required access to books he didn’t have. So in 1959, nine-year-old McNair went to the library — and was told that he wasn’t allowed to be there. As his older brother, Carl, would later tell NPR, that almost became a big problem:

"So, as he was walking in there, all these folks were staring at him — because they were white folk only — and they were looking at him and saying, you know, 'Who is this Negro?'

"So, he politely positioned himself in line to check out his books.

"Well, this old librarian, she says, 'This library is not for coloreds.' He said, 'Well, I would like to check out these books.'

"She says, 'Young man, if you don't leave this library right now, I'm gonna call the police.'

Ronald — not even yet a teenager — called the librarian’s bluff. But she wasn’t bluffing. She called the police and McNair’s mother, Pearl. The police arrived first, and, to their credit, were more confused than anything else. Per Carl, they asked the librarian “where’s the disturbance” and when she pointed to young Ronald waiting there, doing nothing to cause a scene other than existing, the officers took no action. When Pearl McNair arrived a few minutes later, the officers suggested that the librarian just allow Ronald to check out some books, and she reluctantly agreed.

Lake City’s shameful act didn’t prevent the young McNair from learning, and ultimately, McNair would become the second Black American in space — and among Lake City’s most famous alumni. After his tragic death, the city changed its tune, and instead of excluding him, honored him.

And that extended to the library that had previously tried to bar him from the premises. On January 28, 2011 — marking the 25th anniversary of the Challenge explosion — that same library in Lake City opened up a new wing — the Ronald E. McNair Life History Center, a space and technology center named for the boy they tried to turn away in the 1950s. And, as the Marginalian notes, “Today, a Space Shuttle graces the mural on the walls of the children’s room at the Lake City public library in South Carolina, where all children are allowed to check out any book they wish, including books starring children who look a lot like them.”

More About Libraries

Today’s Bonus fact: The earliest known signature of Elvis Presley dates back to when the King was only 13 years old. It’s a library book checkout slip. In 2012, according to CBC Radio, “a library in Memphis was discarding old books and found one titled Courageous Heart: A Life of Andrew Jackson for Young Readers.” Elvis had taken out the book in 1948, and his signature was still clearly identifiable on the book slip. Per CBC Radio, the “library card sold at auction for just under $12,000.”

From the Archives: New York City's Secret (Tiny) Subway: It’s for books.

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And thanks! — Dan

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