In a way, Reagan plays fast and loose with the motif of loss. He sort of tosses it back and forth like he's playing with a grapefruit or a floppy puppy or something.

Certainly not at a loss for words, Reagan casts a wide net, asserting that the loss is national and historical in scope. He talks about tragedies of the past to introduce his comments on the impact of losing the Challenger Seven when he says:

Nineteen years ago, almost to the day, we lost three astronauts in a terrible accident on the ground. But we've never lost an astronaut in flight; we've never had a tragedy like this. (6-7)

He's indicating that the memory of the three astronauts who died on the ground (they were the Apollo 1 crew, for the record) wasn't lost to the passage of time, and neither will the memory of the Challenger Seven be lost to the ages–especially because of the unprecedented nature of their tragedy. They will always be remembered despite their absence.

By using the term "loss" he gives a name to the quality of sadness that is thematically present throughout the speech. While it could be argued that the loss of life that resulted from the Challenger Disaster is indescribable, it does offer an emotional foothold for a nation confused by tragedy.

In an interesting twist, Reagan also offsets the pain of such a massive loss by juxtaposing it with what hasn't been lost: the pioneering spirit of America, the integrity of the U.S. space program, and the courage of the country as a whole.

The most important thing that wasn't lost because of the Challenger tragedy?

The future.