When my son was a cadet at the United States Military Academy at WestPoint, he called to inform his mother and that he was going to go to Jump School that summer. I think he was expecting a
reaction from us, but was disappointed when we did not react with horror. At any rate, I told him that he might jump, but he would not do it before me. (Now what the heck had I done…?)
I am not comfortable with heights, at all. I remember as a kid of about 6 telling my dad on a trip to Washington, DC and seeing the Washington Monument that I was going to crawl out the window and walk around the top of that thing. Problem was when we got up there, I was too scared to even get a good look out the window.
As a bricklayer, there were occasions when I worked on buildings that were more than one story, but the accumulation to height was slow and considering the heights of other buildings was not all that high. It took me quite a while to get used to working on 4 or 5 story buildings. Even at the first sign of anything that could go wrong, my thoughts were on getting the heck down.
The week before my son called there was a piece of siding on the house that needed a nail in it, but I found myself making every excuse that I could to get out of it. Oh, there were the macho statements that I was going to do it, but it was not getting done. First thing is that it was about 10 feet or so off the ground and I did not have a ladder. No problem, my wife borrowed one for me, bless her heart.
I put the ladder up and started up the ladder and it had a bit of spring in it, which quickly caused me to claim it was unsafe… but it was rated for much more than my weight, so that excuse did not hold much water. Finally, when she said she would hire someone to do it, the cheapness in me propelled me to tackle the job again. It took an inordinate amount of time to do. No, not the job of nailing, the job of getting up that high on the ladder.
The world’s biggest chicken still had a challenge awaiting. I was working as a laboratory supervisor and had a woman that worked for me that had talked to me about skydiving. She had done it and talked about it as if it were easy to do. It sounded like fun… if it could be done from the ground, but that was not possible, or was it. If it was, I certainly could not find out how.
Dianne had given me the number of a guy that taught people to skydive and against my better judgment, I made the call. Still looking for any possible excuse, the call went a whole lot better than I expected. The next thing I knew, I was scheduled to meet this guy at 8:00 am Saturday morning at the local airport, which was only 2 miles away. There went the excuse that it was too far to drive.
Finally the day arrived and I was at the airport only to find a very friendly guy there getting set up to teach a class in skydiving. Dang, another excuse that failed to materialize. What was going to save me from my own mouth…?
I had made up one thing in my mind and that is if I got scared when it came time to do the actual jump that I was not going to go. People could laugh and roll down the aisles of the plane, but if I was scared, I wasn’t going to do it!
We practiced landings by jumping from a picnic table and doing a tuck and roll. Now that was not so bad although the skydivers that I had actually seen seemed to land on their feet, but I was new to the game, so it did not seem too bad. Now the guy teaching the class, BJ said that when we landed it was not going to be as hard a landing as jumping off of the table.
This was a real awakening moment. What kind of noise was this guy talking about? I don’t know how hard it was going to be, but falling out of the sky from 4,000 ft. had to be harder than stepping off of a picnic table. Just what was this guy doing, trying to blow smoke up my knee cap or some other body part?
Otherwise, it was going well. We were scheduled to jump that morning, but a team of guys including the instructor were scheduled to do a demonstration jump at the local shopping mall. We would go right after lunch and do our first jump.
Everything went well at the demonstration and everybody landed with the greatest of ease.
Lunch was over and it was time to actually do it. I was going to be the first to do it. This way, I would not have time to get nervous waiting for my turn. We strapped on the parachutes and I made sure everything was as tight as possible. That way, I was sure that it was on and secure. At this time, I was walking around trying to look as calm as possible, but it must not have been working because one of the guys on the demo team asked me if I was nervous.
At this point, I could not say anything. My mouth was so dry that I did not have enough spit to swallow, my mind was racing and I was wondering what the hell had I gotten myself into. Before I could swallow and answer, he assured me that it was normal and that even as experienced as he was that he got nervous. He even told me that people tell him they don’t do it because they are scared that they may soil their underwear.
He said that was not true as you were so puckered up that nobody could pull a pin from your sphincter. This is exactly what I was experiencing and this had a really calming effect, knowing that what was going on was normal after all.
I boarded the plan last since I was going to be the first out. Snuggly in my equipment, which included a helmet, my back to the front of the plane, the jump master went through the routine again. Once we got to altitude, he would open the door, I would turn around and put my legs out the plane. He would then tell me to step out, at which point, I would step out onto a small platform and grab the strut of the wing. He would tap me on the leg and I would let go. Being attached to a static line, the parachute would open when I was a short distance from the plane.
We had altimeters on our wrists so we could see how high we were above ground level. The altimeters were set. Equipment checked again. The plane taxied to the end of the runway and we started down the runway. My mind was going faster than the plane, but I was looking calm, actually scared, but it did not matter at this point, or did it?
The plane leaves the ground, a glance out the window showed we were quite a ways up in the air. A quick check of the altimeter showed we were at a whopping 200 feet. Gosh, we only had 3,800 ft. to go. After a while, we began to circle over the Columbia River and it seemed that we were half way to the moon. Another quick glance at the altimeter showed 800 ft. It began to dawn on me that 4,000 ft. is a very long way up.
My nerves began to settle down. As we turned to line up with the final leg towards the airport, a bit of comfort came over me and it was possible to see my house as we flew directly over it. The jump master announced that he was going to get ready to open the door.
My expectation was that there would be some floor between me and the opening, but when the door was open, there was nothing there but a view of the ground, 4,000 ft. below. The tire and platform were there, but the shock of seeing nothing between me and the ground kind of took my breath away. Finally (although it was only a few seconds) the jumpmaster said put your feet out. For some strange reason, a certain calm came over me and I did it. Next, the command to step out of the plane. Standing on the small platform, holding on to the strut of the plane that was going about 9
0 miles per hour had a strange but calming effect. The tap on the leg found me willingly stepping off and hurling my body towards the ground.
A short time later. Very short if you were on the ground, but a long time if you are doing your first jump, the parachute began to open. With nothing to give a relative height perspective, it was very peaceful. Even the thought of being held up by a piece of cloth attached to you with a few strands of nylon rope felt good!
It was possible to grab the toggles and make turns in the sky, almost like riding a motorcycle in the sky. Left and right turns, first they were small gentle turns but becoming more aggressive after realizing control was mine, all mine.
A radio connected to BJ on the ground gave me directions that allowed me to come in and actually land in the “peas”. Fine pea sized gravel normally placed at the point of landing.
This had turned out to be one hell of an experience and instantly register as one that would be enjoyed again and again.
Action is the thing that conquers fear. I had taken action on one of my biggest fears and triumphed!
While skydiving may not be for you too can conquer your fears by taking action! Write down your biggest challenge, then take action. You will surprise yourself when you accomplish it, and find that there was nothing to be scared about after all!