Tales from WannaBea Farm

Jump day has arrived! I'm so excited I probably didn't sleep ten minutes all night. Excited and scared half to death. Mr. Macho is already awake, sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee, wishing he had a beer. "Sure you want to do this?" he asks.

Not answering I start gathering everything I want to bring. Lace up boots, jumpsuit, goggles, picnic lunch, water and of course, my camera. Parachutes and helmets are furnished by the school.

Mr. Macho gets up and pours himself another cup of coffee. "I want to jump first" he repeats for the hundredth or so time. "That way if something goes wrong and you get into trouble I will be there where I can get to you. And I can help teach you to pack your chute after you land."

"Don't you think you should learn to pack yours first? They don't teach us until we land after our first jump and even if you jump first you still won't know that much."

"Oh yeah, I know, but there shouldn't be much to it."

"Really" I answered, "but I'll need help and you won't?"

"Aw Honey, now don't take it that way, you know I didn't mean anything by that. You're just too sensitive; you need to get over that."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go." I grabbed my keys and purse and headed out to the car.

"Did you bring the beer?" he asked.

"You know they won't allow you to jump if you've been drinking."

"I know, but I'll have it ready afterwards and I'll need it to celebrate."

"Yeah, sure, and if you don't jump you'll need it to drown your sorrows."

The drive to the airport was about two hours and Mr. Macho kept repeating his mantra about jumping first until I was thinking about pushing him out of the plane WITHOUT his parachute, but of course it was just wishful thinking. I drove on, all the while listening to his monotonous drone about jumping first, how much farther is it, can't you go faster and wish I had a beer, over and over and over. Traveling with him was like traveling with a car full of five year olds. I wondered if there was some way I could cut his lines before his jump.

At last the airport was in sight. The time had finally come. I am so scared but also very excited. Jumping out of the car, I pulled my jumpsuit on over my shorts and t-shirt and pulling on my boots, I looked around at all the others that were also making their first jumps today. Everybody had that combination excited and scared look about them. Except for Mr. Macho. He was trying so hard to look cool, as if this was something he had been doing for years.

My jumpmaster, Bob, came over and helped me into my parachute harness, the reserve 'chute snug on my belly, I adjusted my goggles to fit and snugged on my helmet. I was ready.

Except at 4'9'' and 90lbs all that gear weighed so much that I couldn't stand up straight. I looked like the hunchback of the airport. I was jumping with a 28 TT parachute, the same size that the large men were using.

We climbed into the plane, a small Cessna 172. I climbed in the back seat first and then Mr. Macho by the door as he would be going first. The pilot of course and Bob were in the front seats. And then we were airborne. My heart was beating so hard I thought it would explode. And we kept climbing. Twenty eight hundred feet we would be jumping from.

….Will she jump? Find out in next weeks Buffalo Press. If you missed Part One you can read it online at leoncountytoday.com