by Judi Duggan

May 25th- Wow. Considered doing a story for TSNO newsletter on skydiving. Was offered a spot on the next jump. I jumped at the opportunity, but now am feeling a little apprehensive. I seriously cannot back out of this now, I already said yes, plus I will look like a big wuss if I do. Can't have that. Now I might die lol.

May 27th- I think I made a new friend. Have been chatting a lot with Woodstock Bader, really nice guy, and funny too. Politically incorrect, and I love it. I asked him not to give me any guidelines, warnings, thoughts on doing this, he obliged my request. I think giving my gut reaction to this might be a better perspective for me as a writer. After all, I am FOURTY FOUR. Which, hardly qualifies me for a Guiness record, but definitely not something I had seen myself doing at this age. I always wanted to do this when I was younger, and swore I would, but just never got around to it. Now, at my age and stage of life, I am. Holy crap. I could die. Woodstock has 'claimed' this won't happen, but seriously, when paperwork has 'death' on it like a gazillion times over, it has to be at least a small possibility. Not sure I trust this guy.

May 28th (morning entry)- Well last night kind of freaked me out. Not gonna lie. I went to photograph Kickoff to Summer for TSNO and ran into quite a few friends. One particular friend (thanks Geno) reminded me of a mutual friend who died doing a tandem jump a few years back. Jim Pregler was a very experienced sky-diver, and a great guy, and it sent my mind spinning. Is this REALLY worth dying over? Am I that big of an adrenaline junkie that I would risk life and limb to purposely thrust myself out of a plane, ON PURPOSE??? Have to run so I can get photos of the Jim Boughton Memorial Run though, so I will finish my thoughts later.

May 28th (evening entry)- I am really having serious reservations as to whether or not this is a good idea. Anyone who knows me well knows I tend to over think things, drastically. Given this much time to consider my options, possibilities, and outcomes, my mind has been working overtime for a while. I have been reduced to a queasy feeling in my stomach, not much of an appetite (which is fine by me), and a nervous feeling of impending doom DOOM!! I am going over to the neighbor's for a bonfire tonight, hoping that it might calm my nerves, and just takes my mind off of it. Meeting Woodstock for breakfast with Shelby at 8:00 a.m. and then driving up together to jump at 9:00 a.m. Not thinking I will actually eat, but we'll see.

May 29th (pre-jump) - Well last night was a terrible idea. Went across the alley with the best of intentions, and wound up staying until 3:30 a.m. It wasn't that I was having so much fun, (which I was) but that I was trying desperately to forget for a while that I could die the next morning. Epic fail. Everyone knew what I was about to undertake, so I wound up spending approximately 4 1/2 hours of the 5 hours discussing the jump. Maybe I shouldn't have opened my mouth and told everyone I was doing this. Too late now, can't go back. Too close to the results to even consider the possibilities; either that or it is a combination of sleep deprivation and hangover which seems to be encircling me in a weird serenity. I am surprisingly calm as I ready to walk out the door and meet Woodstock. Wish me luck. But just in case, everything goes to my husband of 21 years, and the love of my life. Shelby Sean, Shannon, Marcus and Chris have been great kids, Kelly you are an absolutely amazing friend, and I am ready. Please put my epithet on my headstone "I knew this would happens".

May 29th (post-jump) - We had a nice, leisurely breakfast at Panera, and discussed many, many things. The only thing remotely close to the jump was concerning the ceiling above (cloud cover) and whether or not we could jump due to the clouds. We had some very intense and interesting discussions on the way to Lancaster, and I enjoyed the ride. Weird sense of serenity continued.

Once we reached the airport, we entered the hangar, and proceeded to be given a very long set of forms to fill out by Tasha, one of the instructors at Tri-State Skydiving. I thought she seemed really nice, and noticeably in one piece, so that bodes well. Then I sat down to conquer the forms. Sense of serenity has now evaporated. Death, dying, death, dismemberment, death, death, death, death. Really? I get it. I could die, I could be seriously injured, and now I am freaking out again in my own mind. You do not want to know the dialogue that ensued within. At first I read every sentence, made sure I understood what I was signing; but I soon enough tired of the tedious wording, and started initialing and signing everything without understanding what I was signing. You can only read the words reorganized so many times before you just go numb. I have now decided Tasha is evil.

Handed in the paperwork, stepped on the scale, (which normally I am not a fan of, but yes please, make sure I will not be too heavy, give me extra straps if you think it will help) and then the mini-class began. Jon, another instructor with the sky diving club, and Tasha's husband, started out with some brief explanations and examples. We watched a video, which looked awesome. We walked out to the plane, practiced exiting, how you sit, what will happen, and how you thrust your body in a weird, 'tah-dah' type of pose. Seemed simple enough. We went back to the hangar, and began practicing prone positioning, then suited and strapped up. It's real now I guess. I was volunteered to go first, so we made the strides to the plane. As I walked to the plane, and took my position inside, I made a mental note that the serenity was back. I was no longer scared as we made our way down the runway and into the brilliant blue skies. We took about 10 minutes to reach our maximum height of 10,500 feet, and the view was incredible. During my flight I noted the patterns of the fields below, the geometric fluidity to the lands and farms that seemed to intertwine with the highways and byways between them.

We reached altitude, and Jon flung open the door. As I stuck my hand out, I quickly noted the coolness of the altitude. On the ground, it had been a warm, humid type of day, but up here, it was noticeably cold. I thought it would be a difference, but I never dreamed how drastically it would change. My breath seemed to be sucked out and replaced with a cool, icing vapor. As I unlocked my knee (my right knee is pretty much shot, too much basketball with little regard for rehab) I looked down, and let go. As we thrust ourselves into the air, it didn't feel like falling at all, as much as I thought it would. It was more like flying. And as we flew, it suddenly occurred to me that this is why birds sing. Jon was amazing. He guided me down, and even gave me some whirls and loops on the way at my request. The entire time, the whole lofty glide to the ground, I noticed that the wide, humongous smile never left my face. I don't recall ever feeling that free, that peaceful, and that exhilarated all at once, ever before in my entire life.

Holy cow!! Except that was not the words I used when I landed. It was more 'colorful' than that, and definitely not suitable for print, so we'll go with cow for the purposes of this story. As we returned to the ground, with Jon firmly strapped to my back, we skidded in for a perfect landing. I immediately was unstrapped, and turned around to embrace Jon, and thank him for the wonderful experience. I embraced Woodstock and Shelby, and officially became a member of a truly amazing club.

I will always remember the beauty of the experience, and as I now look back over my journal entries, I realize how silly I was being with myself. There is and always should be a small element of fear in everything you do; it keeps you on your toes, aware to your surroundings, and on alert. But fear should never be a deterrent in experiencing the great things that life has to offer. One of the things I had reconciled myself with, and explained to my daughter Shelby prior to my jump was, I would rather die at 44 experiencing everything that life has to offer, than living to be 94, and never having done much of anything at all. So, if you feel that little tickle in the back of your head, suggesting that this may be something worth trying, give Tri-State Skydiving a call. From the moment I walked in the door, until the moment I jumped in the van to return home, I was made to feel not only welcome, but a part of a big family. Jon, Tasha, and the entire crew are some of the most welcoming, friendly people I have met. Their passion for the sport and wish to share it with others truly shines through, and I guarantee you won't be sorry .

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