Life with Lenora: a student’s survival through Oxford’s ice apocalypse

Bundled in six or seven layers, we waddled like penguins from U Club to the Jackson Avenue Center, inched across the black ice coating Jackson Avenue, made the unfortunate trek down Fraternity Row and finally cut across campus before making it to Residential College South.

“Life with Lenora” is a weekly series capturing the experiences and occasional musings of our opinion editor.

This week, I survived ice armageddon. That isn’t an exaggeration. As Oxford, Miss., braved historic winter conditions, rendering its roads impassable and its power grid unreliable, I was holed up in a dear friend’s apartment stocked with perishable morale and non-perishable food.

While Southerners have fared their fair share of icy conundrums, the last time I really experienced snow was as a five-year-old in Tokyo. On the other hand, power outages were abundant in my childhood home of Phnom Penh, Cambodia. In retrospect, however, I’d much rather be powerless in 90-degree weather than in sub-freezing temperatures.

It was only until Monday night when we were miraculously rescued and driven (very slowly) to a place with steaming showers, hot food and perhaps most importantly, high-speed internet. This is a comfort and privilege I do not take for granted, especially since most of Oxford remains battered by the ice and cold.

For the sake of my own reflection and to inspire unoccupied readers who have made it a priority to read their school newspaper in such harrowing times, here is a largely comical, but chronologically accurate, account of the past weekend.

Sometime before 11 p.m. on Saturday night, we hit play on James Cameron’s “Titanic,” a film I had previously not seen. In hindsight, was it a distasteful idea while awaiting imminent cold to watch a historical fiction where thousands die of hypothermia? Perchance.

At 11:02 p.m., the lights flickered into terrifying nonexistence. Luckily, I had made it a priority to download a plethora of movies and television shows to my device.

Unluckily, I had forgotten to charge said device, so we only had about an hour of watch time — barely enough to witness the tragic conclusion of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet’s on-screen romance.

With Jack and Rose in mind, I actually slept the best I had in a long time. My deep sleep apparently carried me through the terrifying sounds of trees exploding. The next morning — by morning, I mean 1 p.m. — the party decided to make the trek to campus for hot food and cellular service.

Before that, however, I filmed an ice apocalypse makeup tutorial with 13 percent battery left on my iPhone. Note to self: Cosmetic application with candlelight as your only light source is more difficult than it seems.

Bundled in six or seven layers, we waddled like penguins from U Club to the Jackson Avenue Center, inched across the black ice coating Jackson Avenue, made the unfortunate trek down Fraternity Row and finally cut across campus before making it to Residential College South.

On the way, many pictures of the damage were photographed. Nature’s greatest contradiction, as I have come to realize, is that something so destructive can be so breathtaking.

It was at our destination we took refuge in the limited selection of the P.O.D., charged our electronics to full potential and complained feverlessly about the weather.

Fast forward through the return march under the stars against the howling wind, we made it back to our comparably warm abode around 8:30 p.m. Circled around candles in the pose of a would-be seance, we exchanged childhood memories and snacked on perishables destined to rot if we did not.

Much to my best friend’s chagrin, I drew a still life of him. It wasn’t very good.

If there is anything this time has reminded me, it is that human connection is sacred. It often seems as if everyone wants to live in a village but no one wants to be the villager. This week, however, Oxonians came together, supporting each other with warmth, food and camaraderie.

It is this energy I hope can carry us through the storm and beyond. We are nothing as humans devoid of the community we cultivate.

Lenora Collier is a sophomore international studies major from Hattiesburg, Miss.

NASA Marks Forty Years Since Challenger Tragedy

Americans honor the Challenger crew and reflect on the disaster’s impact as NASA’s Day of Remembrance recalls the risks and unity of space exploration.

Key Points

• Report the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded 73 seconds after liftoff on January 28, 1986, killing all seven astronauts aboard, including teacher Christa McAuliffe.
• Explain the disaster was caused by failure of rubber O-rings on the solid rocket boosters due to unusually cold temperatures on launch day.
• Highlight the Challenger tragedy as NASA’s first astronaut loss during flight, prompting investigations and renewed safety vigilance for future missions.

Forty years ago, the world watched in horror as the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded in the sky over Florida, just 73 seconds after liftoff from Kennedy Space Center. The date was January 28, 1986, and what was meant to be a triumphant step forward for NASA and the nation became an indelible tragedy. All seven astronauts aboard—Francis R. Scobee, Michael J. Smith, Judith A. Resnik, Ellison S. Onizuka, Ronald E. McNair, Gregory B. Jarvis, and Christa McAuliffe, the first teacher in space—were killed. This week, as the country marks the 40th anniversary of that fateful day, the Challenger disaster remains a stark reminder of both the promise and peril of human spaceflight.

For many, the memory of that morning is as vivid as ever. Jeffrey Ault, a Volusia County resident and lifelong space enthusiast, was there on the shoreline of the Banana River near Port Canaveral, camera in hand. He remembers the anticipation, the biting cold, and the uncertainty as the launch had already been delayed several times due to weather concerns. “I didn’t know whether it was going to happen,” Ault recalls. But as the shuttle lifted off, hope soared—only to be dashed moments later. Ault, who filmed the event on his Super 8 movie camera, describes the day as unforgettable, but for all the wrong reasons. “To witness a tragedy like the Challenger explosion was devastating,” he says. For Ault, who had followed the Apollo program since childhood, it was his first time seeing a launch in person, making the loss all the more personal.

The Challenger mission, officially known as STS-51-L, was set to be the 25th shuttle flight. Its goals were ambitious: a seven-day orbital mission that would observe Halley’s Comet, deploy satellites, and, most notably, send the first civilian teacher into space. Christa McAuliffe, selected from over 11,000 applicants, was to bring the wonders of space directly to classrooms across America. Thousands of students tuned in to watch the launch live, their excitement quickly turning to disbelief as the shuttle burst into a fireball over the Atlantic Ocean. According to USA TODAY, the explosion was broadcast in real time on CNN and seen by millions, sending shockwaves around the globe.

The immediate aftermath was a blur of grief and confusion. An investigation would later reveal that the shuttle’s crew cabin had separated intact from the rest of the spacecraft. Evidence suggested that at least some of the crew may have been alive and aware for a short time after the explosion, as three of the Personal Egress Air Packs were activated. However, the capsule struck the ocean surface two minutes and 45 seconds later at a speed of 207 mph (333 km/h)—an impact no one could have survived. The investigation could not determine if the cabin had depressurized before impact, concluding it was “possible, but not certain” that the astronauts lost consciousness prior to the crash.

What caused such a catastrophic failure? The answer, as uncovered by a presidential commission, lay in the shuttle’s solid rocket boosters. Specifically, rubber O-rings in the booster joints, designed to seal in hot gases, failed due to record low temperatures on launch day. The cold weather prevented the O-rings from forming a proper seal, allowing hot gases to escape and ignite the main fuel tank. Engineers had raised concerns about the O-rings’ performance in the cold, but management at NASA made the decision to proceed with the launch. According to Astronomy magazine, these concerns had previously delayed launches, but the O-rings had always held up—until that day.

The Challenger disaster was a turning point for NASA and for the nation. It was the first time America lost astronauts during a spaceflight, and it brought the risks of space exploration into sharp relief. As NASA Administrator Jared Isaacman noted on the 40th anniversary, “We honor their legacy by staying vigilant, humble, and uncompromising in the pursuit of our world-changing missions.” The loss of Challenger’s crew was a vivid reminder that the pursuit of knowledge and discovery often comes at a steep price.

The impact of the Challenger disaster extended far beyond the walls of NASA. The space program, which had once united Americans and inspired people around the world, was suddenly under intense scrutiny. President Ronald Reagan addressed the nation in the aftermath, delivering a speech that many, including Jeffrey Ault, still remember. “You really have to give credit to the masterminds, the engineers who work on this, and then the brave astronauts that are putting their lives at risk for this travel,” Ault says. “And the Challenger taught us that it is very dangerous.” Reagan’s words paid tribute to the sacrifices made and reminded the country of the courage it takes to reach for the stars.

In the years since, NASA has made it a tradition to hold a Day of Remembrance around the anniversary of the Challenger disaster. The ceremony, most recently held on January 22, 2026, honors not only the Challenger crew but also the seven astronauts lost in the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster in 2003 and the three from Apollo 1, who died in a cabin fire during preflight testing in 1967. These annual observances serve as a solemn reminder of the risks inherent in space exploration—and of the enduring human drive to push beyond our limits.

Despite the heartbreak, the shuttle program continued. Over its 30-year run, the program completed 135 missions, helping to build the International Space Station and launch, recover, and repair satellites. The final shuttle, Atlantis, landed at Kennedy Space Center in 2011, closing a chapter that began with such hope and endured through tragedy. Today, four of NASA’s iconic shuttles—Enterprise, Atlantis, Endeavor, and Discovery—are on display at museums across the United States, tangible reminders of the triumphs and tribulations of the space age. Discovery may soon be relocated to Space Center Houston, following a bill signed in July 2025.

But the Challenger disaster, and the lessons it taught, remain at the heart of NASA’s mission. The tragedy prompted sweeping changes in safety protocols and decision-making processes, though, as the Columbia disaster later showed, vigilance must never wane. The stories of the Challenger crew—their aspirations, their bravery, and their willingness to risk everything for the sake of exploration—continue to inspire new generations of scientists, engineers, and dreamers.

As the nation pauses to remember Challenger’s fallen, the echoes of that cold January morning remind us that progress often comes at a cost, but the pursuit of knowledge and unity, as Jeffrey Ault hopes, can still bring people together, lighting the way forward.