A father heals, and learns, after shuttle disaster

HOUSTON — On a sweltering afternoon, a wilted Jonathan Clark flops onto the couch, having lost a battle over whether his son, Iain, would wear shoes outside.

The place has the rumpled look of an all-male household, but a mother's hand is evident in the family photos on the wall, in the pressed flowers on the shelves. The triangularly folded American flags suggest that the woman who once lived here was a hero.

Not long ago, Jonathan Clark wouldn't have been home on a weekday afternoon, engaged in the mundane, yet all-important challenges of parenthood — such as trying to persuade an 8-year-old to wear shoes.

But everything about Dr. Jonathan Clark's life is different now, especially fatherhood.

In the four months since his wife, astronaut Laurel Clark, died along with six other crew members aboard the space shuttle Columbia, the one-time workaholic — and only single dad among the crew's survivors — struggles mightily with his new role. Remarkably, though, he also sees the positive side.

"She forced me to do something I refused to do," said Clark, a neurologist and NASA flight surgeon. "And in the midst of all this tragedy, that is an incredible gift."

When astronauts die, the public witnesses flag-draped caskets, stoic survivors and stirring eulogies. But the private journey of healing is taken here, behind the stately front door of a brick home, with an 8-year-old boy and a 50-year-old man who is learning what it means to be a father — and not only on the third Sunday in June.

Clark, an overachiever with an eight-page résumé, is disarmingly candid about his former lack of interest in all things paternal. He routinely worked 60-hour weeks evaluating in-flight medical care.

"I used to dump everything on my wife, so I guess this is payback," Clark said. "It's just the macho NASA culture."

But that changed instantly when the shuttle broke apart. Clark now is confronting the enigma of unmatched socks, doctors' appointments, child care and a boy's haircuts. "Iain and I have a bond," he said. "We both lost the love of our lives."

On the day of the tragedy, father and son were at Cape Canaveral, awaiting the arrival of the shuttle. Clark, no stranger to space operations, sensed trouble when he heard an exchange about tire pressure — followed by a command for flight controllers to "preserve your data." He had heard it before: Jan. 28, 1986, when the Challenger blew apart. "That's when I knew," he said quietly.

Family members were ushered into private quarters, where the grim news was delivered, amid anguished cries.

With other Columbia spouses, Clark has formed an informal support group that meets regularly.

"We have our days, but luckily, we've never all been down at the same time. I look at Rona (Ramon, widow of Israeli astronaut Ilan) with four kids and I think, 'What are you bitching about?' Look around and someone always has it worse."

Iain typically deflects questions about his mother, but a snippet of memory floats to the surface unannounced every so often.

"Remember when I bought Mom that crystal egg at the Dollar Store?" he asked while mixing a secret potion (hot sauce, yogurt and peanut butter) with Nikki Lloyd, a close friend and daughter of a NASA employee.

Or "Didn't Mom make good soup and bread?"

Iain is seeing a child psychologist to help him process the loss. He sleeps in Dad's bedroom, where copies of both Flying and Parents magazines are strewn on the floor.

"Sometimes," the boy said, "I think I'm going to wake up and my mom will be downstairs in the kitchen. She'll have messed-up hair and dirty clothes because — you know — she's really been on some island."

Laurel Clark came to be an astronaut by accident, literally. In 1991, she accompanied her husband, then a Department of Defense flight surgeon, to a disaster drill at Kennedy Space Center. When the exercise was short by one casualty, Laurel volunteered and the experience piqued her curiosity. In 1994, when she was eight months' pregnant, she applied to the astronaut corps and was rejected. She interviewed again two years later — and this time got the nod.

Hyang Lloyd, a close family friend, said if the astronaut is watching from heaven, she never would recognize her husband.

"Before, he just pushed fatherhood away," Lloyd said. "The fact that he was never around would frustrate Laurel to no end. He was always at the office or working on his plane."

Now, she said, he has the fervor of a convert.

"It's like two different people," she said.

Clark has sworn off all business travel and weekend shifts. He plans to quit NASA in the next year, a decision made at a water park, when Iain just spontaneously hugged him.

"It was just so unexpected and so precious," he said.

Such discoveries make him want to hit other dads "upside the head," he said.

"I just want to shake them and say, 'Go look at what's important in your life.' I wish I learned it earlier. But I have to say 'Thanks, Laurel, for teaching it to me now.' "