patworks

Ok, Ok, being IQ challenged does make for interesting skydives. Short version . . . . Having failed at passing a watermelon, we move onward toward infamy. . . . . . The plot until now..... Passing a watermelon was akin to an ill-timed bowel movement for us Ace Skydivers.... . . . undaunted we cogitate that . .Since the watermelon did not work out. We need a sure thing. Something that a sponsor would pay for. What? . , A Mattress! Lovely Idea! . . Genius! Oh, hold me back.... YO! A freakin Beauty Rest Mattress in free fall! *. . . . a skydiver lightly lands to lay and snooze on air. . .* Screaming we are gonna be famous… we are gonna be RICH! We set off to plot and scheme. - - - -- - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - And that is this story: Ok, our watermelon experience indicates that perhaps we should do a few proof-of-concept jumps first... Before we get the major networks involved…… These should even happen prior to having Time Magazine and ESPN on site. . . . . . Agreed. . . . . Thus, using that elegant reverse Darwin-logic, we started small. Just a pilot-concept test. … Just use things we have at hand. . . . . . . VISION: On a stunningly bight and perfect day a beautiful skydiver shares a blue sky with lovely puffy clouds. Cut to action: There amongst the soft white clouds, floats a Beauty Rest Mattress. Today, its sleep numbers are two Sleep Sheep skydivers who provide assured satiability to the worlds best rest-mattress. > . . . Ok. that is our VISION. Our Mission is to pull it on in a very few jumps (Jumps cost about $6.50). For the pilot testing we use a military surplus Bunk bed (from like when I was in the Army) Mattress. . . . . These were a sleeping pad made of cotton batting in six-inch thick pads that grace an Army Barracks beds. You roll them up into about a 2.5 foot diameter when you get orders to move out. . . . . . . Importantly, this means that they will fit into a Cessna 196 without havng to chainsaw the door. ....... The rest is pure simple physics and flying. The mattress is the target-base. It exits first with a caretaker holding loops at each end. The purpose of this was to present an inviting bed for the third skydiver to alight upon, repose in a comfy pose, and yawn. . . . .When captured on film, we would be both famous and wealthy. Sigh. . . . OK, so load everybody in the 196 and stuff the mattress in. Take off. Climb. Exit. Camera. Action. SNAFU... The mattress and holders get out with small drama. The mattress won’t open. It briefly breathers like a flower on Red Bull. The "Rester" alights. The mattress encloses Bill like a hot dog bun. He appears to be kicking and screaming... Except for him, everyone else pulls high and lands soft. * * * Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Quote from a skydiver age 101. From J. Barrie's * Peter Pan*: One of the high points in the story is when Peter invites Wendy to Never-Never-Land to be storyteller-in-residence: "Oh dear, I can't. Think of mummy! Besides, I can't fly." "I'll teach you." "Oh, how lovely to fly." "I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go." "Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously. "Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars." The wind's back...parlance with constellatory wits..away we go...suffer,earthbound readers. ...Far out! Lookit...i'm flying! Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Skydivers Statement of Purpose Freefall Relative Work. We are a band of brothers, native to the air where we are united in freefall relative work. Our goal is to promote parachuting in general and relative work in particular. RW is a beautiful, exhilarating experience which we like to share with others. In order to do RW, you must relate to others in the air. This relatedness has created a brotherhood of freefall. As brothers we can and should help each other. Because it's our sport, we must try to avoid ego-trips, unhealthy politics and hassles. We must promote those aspects of our sport which foster the brotherhood for all. Good RW promotes itself. RW is where it is today, now. It was non-created. RW just happened and grew. Being non-created, RW is transcendent over acceptance or rejection. Unfettered, it does not ossify into ritual mechanistics and so continues to grow. If directed by a brotherhood of freefallers, this growth can strengthen us through unity in numbers. Look how many of us there are today. We are all just beginning. Let's begin together. Do lots of RW. In Quest of Perfection ... The Traditions of Freefall Relative Work. Our common welfare should come first. Personal satisfaction depends on RW unity; a Brotherhood of freefall. There is no central RW authority. Our leaders are trusted servants of the sport; they do not govern. Freefall relative work is democratic and unbiased. The only qualification for membership in the Brotherhood of Freefall is a desire to fly for the joy of flying. Each group of Rwers has but one primary purpose - to carry the ecstasy and excitement of doing freefall relative work to all parachutists who have enthusiasm for flying. Each RW team or drop zone should be autonomous, except in matters affecting relative work or parachuting as a whole. The Brotherhood of Freefall is designed to place principles above personalities and the perfection of flight above all else. The merit badges of the Brotherhood are the SCR/SCS awards. The NSCR, 16-man and XX are higher awards. Our relationships with all other parachutists who have yet to join the Brotherhood are based on attraction rather than promotion. The positive results of RW enjoyment, warmth and fellowship emit good vibes which speak louder than any promotion we could possibly do. Pat, RWu, June, 1974 Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

The USPA licenses (A thru D) and ratings (jumpmasters, I/E, etc.) are obviously required to establish, promote and maintain a degree of safety in parachuting in general, and filling out paperwork specifically. Of course, these licenses have nothing to do with parachuting skill (just as having a driver's license doesn't insure that you are a good driver.) In RW there are two merit badges recognized by all participants both here and abroad as proof of RW proficiency. These are the Bob Buquor Memorial Starcrests: the SCR and SCS. An SCR recipient has: "Participated in a Free Fall Star Formation involving eight or more skydivers in a completed circle held together for a minimum time of 5 seconds or 1000 feet. This one may have been given you. Even so, those who gave it had to be real RWers who wanted to relate with you. Either way, it's meaningful. The SCS must be earned. "...By entering into this star formation as 8th or after..." The SCS proves a degree of skill at flying both early and late. This is important at a big star attempt, and SCR Scrambles, or when you are visiting another RW drop zone. This way, when the Starmaster or manifestor sizes up your skill by eyeball, he can temper the fact that you're 5'6", weigh 210 lbs. and are called "Bowling Ball" by your friends with the fact that you are an SCS recipient, and thus can fly. (United We Fall, Chapter 6) http://www.cs.fiu.edu/~esj/uwf/uwf6.htm Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

I'm SCR 561 and SCS-1. Yes, the database is being updated. Bill Newell says Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

All hail the 43rd anniversary of the first big-way, October 17 1965 That first 8-man in 1965 was quite an accomplishment. It had taken about 13 months to go from 6-man to an 8-man. And it took another two years to build the 10-man. Later, Bill Newell SCR #3, founded the Star Crest in 1967. The purpose was to award everybody who had been in an 8-man at that time (about 20 people), and from then on out, some kind of recognition for it. Bill’s organization has contributed a great deal to the growth of relative work formation skydiving around the world. It is called the Bob Buquor Memorial Star Crest (BBMSC) which awards for freefall relative work accomplishments. (http://www.scr-awards.com ). USPA has recognized the SCR and SCS awards as marks of achievement in relative work and a principal reason for its growth. The below is a email trail posted by Bob Federman SCR 155, Brian Williams SCR 8, and Bill Newell SCR 3. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - We start with an email from Bob Federman to his old sky mates dated 10/17/2008 -- Bob Federman, Fedo, S.C.R. 155 ________________________________________ Reply From: Brian Williams [mailto:swooper8@yahoo.com] Sent: Friday, October 18, 2008 7:37 PM from Pasadena and spent a year jumping there and having a great time. Buquor fell madly in love with Joann. The people of Avenal treated us like royalty, and I started instructing a few of them in the sport of skydiving. Dave bought a Cessna 170 and Bob Buquor and I found ourselves making exhibition jumps in Mexico . Bob fell madly in love with Teresa. Bob and I were the only ones left of the Parabats. Bob was taking pictures of people in freefall now, and with his Voitlander strapped to the back of his hand, he was getting some great shots. We continued to jump at most of the D.Z.s of the day including Oceanside , Corona , Lost Hills, and others. We returned to Elsinore for a stint and Bob fell madly in love with Beverly. However, after a few months of romancing, Beverly became fearful of meeting with Bob. She was afraid her husband would find out. Shucks! Of course I argued that it might take a little longer but once there all we had to do was attain a modified French Frog position and hook-up. The idea was kicked around for awhile before everyone thought it was worth trying. Shall I say, evolve? Why didn’t some bright kid come along and say to us that the slow fallers had to wear vests containing lead weights. Jeeze! That’s as simple as the nose on your face. It simply had to evolve. I ultimately wore a vest weighing 12 pounds. Clear skies, Brian Williams SCR-8 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Reply From: Bill Newell, SCR #3, Starcrest founder, mailto:bbmsc@att.net Everyone take air, Bitchin Bill Newell, SCR# 3, Father of the Star Crest Awards Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

OK, I snoozed and did not check my email. My bad. Howsomeever, I'm making fun skydives none the less. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Sorry I forget to check my mail Pat@works-words.com Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

To get a feel of some of the history read United We Fall by Pat Works. Available free online at http://www.cs.fiu.edu/~esj/uwf/uwf.html Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

After several weeks of treatment, Al Frisby died this morning, Sunday, September 02, 2007, in the hospital from complications related to lukemia. Al Frisby was a significant and respected member of our sport and loved by our community. When Al spoke of parachuting he was an oracle. God be with you, AL Frisby. Al, Thank you for sharing your life with us. Al left a "Good by" message on You Tube, You Tube Message From Al Pat Works Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Lotsa Skratchese and PatWorksian blither at : http://www.cs.fiu.edu/~esj/uwf/uwf.html Therein is everything I could get from SKR and the other word smiths of the Skydance revolution. It's about 400 pages of words written for skydivers by skidivers. Tasty! Yum! Dig: "Head trips - philosophy and psychology The skydive experience transcends normal existence. Freefall presents us with the opportunity to enter a joyful condition of flow. We skydive intricate dances on wings made of earth-pushed wind. The music of our sky dance is the rhythm of its flow. The sky dance philosophy is love of wisdom or knowledge of the art of freefall relative work. The sky dance psychology is the mental process indicated to achieve and retain the sky dance philosophy. The following articles are some head trips relating to the understanding of the above. Here are different approaches to relating to our thing of doing what we love to do: skydive." Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Easy. A few years back, canopy manufacturing folks would give me their wares. One company gave me a parachute on the condition that i NEVER sold it or let other people jump it. It was a nice white 219 sq ft 7 cell. It was the canopy they used to initiate new people into the parachute sewing trade. The lines were 18 inches different from riser to riser. . . It took up to about 1200 feet to open. At this era (mid 1970s), folks did not pull until about 1700 feet. . . Being patient and dumb allowed several jundred jumps with only 3-4 cutaways. . . True to my word to the Mfgr., I did not let any human jump it when I was 'done.' Instead, I gave it to team mate Mark Sechler who made many more jumps before consigning it to a dumpster. . > Far more patient than I, Mark only had 1 or none chops. When it came to gear, he was very patient and understanding of the problems spastic canopies have with inflation. Today, both the canopy and Mark are dead. I really miss Mark. I loved him lots. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Flight for the joy of flying -- It was the potential for unbounded spherical freefall flight that lured me out of the box and into the vertical world of freefly. You see, I have always wanted unlimited flight. I have long yearned for true skydances. VRW is both. That much I expected. What I did not expect is the majestic beauty of the sky as presented from the vRW perspectives. The sky unfolds into a 360 degree dome around you. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Staying close was required to do multiple baton passes. In Texas from 1964 until '63 or '64 a triple baton pass with three people was a big deal. It required staying close to move the baton from person to person. Staying on level was important. "Close" being 5-15 feet. We usually used a foot-long piece of garden hose as the baton. In May '62, at the HPC Beeline DZ, I exited 4-th and watch Clyde Jacks and Carlos Wallace made 6-baton passes with Tommy Foster who had just moved from static line to freefall about two weeks prior. We made 2 attempts. Tommy had about 9 jumps when they got the 6-way pass. Knowing it was a record for one with so few jumps, Clyde sent it in to PCA. We got castigated instead of praised. It got in the PCA newsletter as a "dangerous stunt" with a thick black box around it. Oh, well. Seems like that is sort of like what you guys started with. However it is nothing like where SKR took it. Skratch made no-contact, and 'lurking' and no-touch dancing into one of the most poetic things one can do. Lovely, fun, and a great head trip. Thanks SKR! It adds a great dimension to our sky play! Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Copies of this book, I still have. The video is outdated. I beleive the words hold their own. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

After years of consideration I now am certain that having sub-10 second canopy rides is neither safe nor productive. Having made 10-20 such jumps i can say from experience that such openigs are best made out of sight of the drop zone. Being massively stupid hurts less if there is no one to see and tell. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Skratch Garrison (and Pat Works) still inhabit the physical plane of the planet and skydive from it when they can. SKR invented the notion of doing square dances in the sky and the awesome magic of free flight (versus 'points'). Pat and friends danced to images played on a 12-string and sung amidst spherical up down dances sequenced in a medley of movement. Both are more than a tad strange. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Hum. Nice words bring real-time photos of this to my addled brainz. Or, brain, singular. Or remaining cells, plural. All recline, as do I. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Since 1961, I have had more than 35 cutaways. Only about 20% spun. Way more than 50% were caused by parachutes that simply did not like to open. Packing errors caused about 4 each. Pack closures were also about 4. Low openings/low altitude another 6. Bad rigging 2. Brain lock at least 2. My reserve functioned perfectly except for once. For a reasonable person excerising due care a cutaway is very rare. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

After purchasing the DC-9 the owners put over $250K into getting it jumpable. My Cessna 172 brain is awed by this jumpship. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Team Chaos at a Sequential Meet. And now, folks, here comes Confusion and Terminal Chaos at the North American Sequential Sweepstakes. Introductory Preliminaries. Chaos reigned! Our 8-man team out at Elsinore (part of the old “Element of Chance”) had only six people ... and we couldn’t do round #3 of the International 8-man. The big meet up at Fort Lewis, Wash., lost helicopter support, and it was rumored you were supposed to wear helmets for all dirt dives. We had only three weeks of practice left before the meet. That meant that our 4-man team wasn’t going to get any practice at all, except in the van. Nevertheless, the big question was “How do you do 8-man team freefall with only six people??” Ahhh! Dave Wilds (Mr. Clean) joins up with our crew after his 8-man team splits up. As his contribution to our chaos, Dave brought good morals, energy, and a tremendous amount of speed-star experience ... something like 800 jumps with Captain Hook. Gary Boardman counterbalanced this when he joined, skateboarding through ground practice and announcing that he loved sequential and boys. Goodie, now we had 8 people ... if Bob Schafer (of the USFET) could make it over from the Gulch. Since we hadn’t jumped together as a team, ground practice would be a neat way to start out. Schafer arrives, but Doctor Death (Vic Ayres of the “Exitus” team), having wrecked his car, is still at home when the first load is called. Finally he arrives, and we’re able to start ground practice by 10:00 a.m. Ground Practice. Otis Vanderkolk acts as Captain Chaos to keep ground practice down to a four-way shouting match. Dave Wilds asks if we can’t replace the moldy team battle cry: “Blue Sky, Black Death!” with his own version: “Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh my!” The stunned reception is taken for agreement, and team practice starts. In order to save time, part of the team adopts the Arizona (USFET/Gulch) team’s 8-man techniques. In order to preserve chaos, the rest of the team doesn’t. Team Practice Jumps. Compulsory #3 is giving us problems, but through diligent lack of organization, we have about an 80 percent completion rate on the 21 practice dives we put in before the meet. In order to keep things interesting, we change the exit order for each of the compulsory jumps. We hang three people outside the DC-3. They act as floaters or base, depending on whose turn it is. To add glamor to whoever is going base on a particular jump, they are termed the “Heroes” of the dive. Where practical, or fun, we carry a three-man hook-up out the door. To instill team spirit, the exit command is “Get out thar, Stupid!” One guy, a dope-smokin’ Tennessee ridge-runner, being about seven feet tall, introduces the team to the “animal” exit by planting his feet against the wall opposite the door and lunging out the door with almost everyone in his arms. Since it was fun, and felt good, we kept it up. This tall guy claims his name is Greg Giles, but we call him “Long Death” ‘cause it’s easy to remember. People keep forgetting the sequences in the air, so we all promise to “get serious” about ground practice at the meet. (In a show of togetherness, three team members have malfunctions and/or blow up their mains on one single day.) At last, the final day of practice ends and we plan to leave for the Big Sequential $10,000 Meet at Fort Lewis! Our final team meeting was wonderful. Several of us want to know “Where is Fort Lewis?” (It’s 1,250 miles away.) John Hager, from Oklahoma, has a better question “How are we going to get there?” Getting There is Not Half The Fun. Wednesday night late, we’re zooming toward the North and the competition, looking forward to a 24-hour drive, a good meet. and some hot mega-dives afterwards. The trusty old van is outfitted with a stereo, headphones, CB radio, cruise control, and part of the team. We stop just twice for major repairs. To keep sane, I do yoga in the parking lot, standing on my head, while Gary rides his skateboard around standing on his hands. Gary’s CB radio handle, “The Queen of Palos Verdes,” makes for some interesting CB talk and adds new dimension to modulation in general. At Fort Lewis at last, we pitch camp, make four practice dives, and say a great big “hello” to a whole mess of old friends from all over everywhere. Goddamn, it’s great to see everyone again! Pre-meet gossip has it that it will be a close meet, with the top teams likely being Seattle’s “Clear Eye,” with “years” of practice; Texas’ “Kaleidoscope,” with 130 practice jumps: the Arizona/Gulch/USFET team (who called itself “Fish” because they were always getting hooked into traveling across the United States at the promise of “all the free helicopter jumps you can make”); and our Elsinore team which somebody understandably has registered as “Terminal Chaos.” In addition, Curt Curtis’ team, “All the President’s Men,” (Pope Valley) were looking good, and people from the “Seagull Squad,” Utah, sounded good, too. In all, there were 12 teams entered out of about 20 who had paid the registration but didn’t show, due in part to the last minute confusion about helicopters and meet location. There was a whole slew of 4-man teams registered, but many withdrew, discouraged by the cost of the event and the fact that the four-man teams were given low priority by the meet director. Some 4-man teams had to wait five days to make a jump. The Big Meet, At Last. I just love competition. It’s one of the best kinds of RW jumping for me. Since it’s all “organized” already, all you gotta do is show up, pay your entry fee, wait for your load to be called, and party. Everyone is doing their best flying, and there are judges and videotape TV to keep track of what happens in the air and who is able to fly best as a team. Dave Singer did a good job organizing the meet. He had some of the best RW judges (including Diane Kelly, Betty Giarrusso, Lorrie Young and Bob MacDermott) lined up, plus the TV videotape from Elsinore. The Army did an outstanding support job, in spite of the Department of Defense ruling cancelling the helicopters. The Fort Lewis Army Parachute Clubs were beautiful! They gave up their entire Labor Day weekend to help run the meet, hold a barbecue, and support the relative workers! Yea! As a Bicentennial tribute to the turkey, several teams clutched and blew the first dive. Arizona funnelled and blew their chances. The base formation for the first dive was an 8-man star. We decided that competition was a great place to add a fourth man to our somewhat successful 3-man-out-the-door. It didn’t work and the 8-man reform was backward and garbled from what it was supposed to be for flying the wedges 360° to redock. Everybody just shrugged, played it by ear, and it worked ... we got full points! By the time we reached the last round, we had “max-ed out” all our dives, getting full points within working time. On round six we had a slow jump when one man went low on a sequence. We completed the dive but figured we were between 49 and 51 seconds on working time. But several of the judges had missed our jump, so we weren’t sure where we stood. At a team meeting we decided not to protest the jump in the interests of promoting the sport and good vibes, etc. etc .... (We were tied with “Clear Eye” for first.) However, when Texas was moved up with us for a three-way tie after getting credit for a questionable judging, we protested, too. The judges and jury upheld our protest. Enter Clouds and a Day of Rain. Dave Singer began to feel the pressure and seemed to flip out for a while, declaring that since it was his meet, he would run it the way he wanted to. The judges said they couldn’t let that happen, since what he wanted to do was overrule the judge’s decisions. Jumping stopped for about a day of daylight until the judges and Singer reached an agreement. Dave would direct the meet, but the judges would keep the official score and the jury would decide protests and post the final standings as they judged them. So on Tuesday afternoon, when everyone is supposed to be back at work, we rejump and blow it, going 4 seconds overtime with another man low. This puts “Clear Eye” and Texas into a sudden death (weird choice of words, huh?) jump-off for first place. “Terminal Chaos” and “Seagull Squad” also went into sudden death for third place. Seattle’s Clear Eye took first. Texas completed the maneuver, but went overtime and took second. “Seagull Squad” completed their maneuvers, too, but went overtime. We chaosed our jump, and blew the dive. Chaos reigns! It was a fun meet in the air. I’m looking forward to the next 8-man competition. One thing we learned for sure was that our very intense ground practice helped us a lot in the air. FINAL STANDINGS 1. Clear Eye Express, Seattle Tie, jump-off 2. Kaleidoscope, Texas 3. Seagull Squad, Utah Tie, jump-off 4. Terminal Chaos, Elsinore 5. Country Hod & the Fish, Arizona 6. Rush 7. Skydive, Canada 8. Swine Flu 9. Western Hemisphere, Utah 10. All the President’s Men, Pope Valley 11. Alien Eight 12. All of the Above, Seattle Pat Works, Spotter Magazine, Nov,. -Dec. 1976 Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

When qe quit using BSBD for exits..... The team was the 'seasoned combine of AZ+ CA sequential flyers named Terminal Chaos. . . Our exit count was: Ready! . . BLUE SKY! . . BLACK DEATH! . . EXIT! Our team for THE BIG MEET that would decide the rankings of N. American formation flying teams was Dave Singers' Championships at Fort Lewis Wa, September 3-6, 1976. We were short of flyers. We recruited Dave Wilds form the Ten way folks. All American guy. A real 'Mr. Clean", Dave had only one request. "Please modify your exit count to something else....." So, OK, what would your suggest? His answer, 'Oh, something equally fierce, like from the Wizard of OZ, "Lions and Tigers and Bears!!, Oh My!" Worked fine. Great meet.

History of formations. Today: Formation Skydiving Yesterday: Sequential RW Before yesterday: post-star maneuvers Before that: fun jumping - - - - - - The earliest names described no-contanct dances in the air. In times of pre-history when dragons flew (Puff, the Magic Dragon), Skratch Garrison mentored sky art with not-round formations which focused upon the flying between the formations and not the formations themselves. Some involved close proximity flying without contact. It was skydancing. Formation names included some terms from square dancing that reflected the movement not the touching. Terms like allemande left, do-si-do, cross to the center self explain. Beautiful visions and wonderful dives. Many (most?) of the names came from the early 4-way events which preceded 10 ways by some years. Then, the clock for points started after exit and after an initial 4-way star was completed. This was followed by a mandatory back-loop. Then the 4-way team started doing the assigned formations. Named for their shape and whimsy, they included the star, line, accordion, caterpillar, and a few others. Competitors on the USPA Competition Committee added new formations annually. Before 10-way competition got recognized some teams did alternate formations as a part of their 10-way speed star practice and competition routines. In the early 70's The James Gang (Hinckley) and the All Stars (Ca) did a 10-way star; ten way-line; two-five man stars; ten-way star in competition. Also during that time we did things like an 11-way accordion in bathing suits. Later, in about 1974, in the Oregon and Washington areas, large 15-way formations were created and named by their creators. Carl Boenish captured many of these. Smaller groups in California, Arizona, Texas, Illinois, and Florida were doing the same thing. About then BJ Worth wrote "Tempting our Imaginations." And the recorded history of formation skydiving continued. The resulting USFET and Cottingham's photography and the early sequential meets helped set the stage for today. A bit later, one of the original types, Pat Works grabbed his experience and melded it with SKRs vision of skydance and formed a 9-way team that did only 3D skydance maneuvers such as Up fountain, front loop entry, elevator, swinging-gate, patty-cake, red-rover and more. The team name was Skdance Medley (Perris). So, the language of formation skydiving started about 1963 and its dictionary has enlarged ever since. Our Language evolves. Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

Yup, Sport Death came from life and Casa-Gulch. ........ Back in the Yester-when ............ BJ and DeLuca would stop by our house in Fullerton after a weekend of USFET magic... They'd show Jan & I the weekend *Stuff* we’d started about 18 months earlier…. . . . . . . . It was a magic time . . . *back-ins* and other over the top stuff was being wrestled into shape.. . . . Complicated stuff like a side-body dock waz done via grip-switch crawl around grapple. . . . . But Poof! Boffo! Suddenly, you did NOT grapple it, you flew it. *Perfect position* be there. EXACTLY in the right place at the right time. . . . . . . . Big eye-opener. ( Yes! Tonight, I still get a soft and cloudy *WOW!* from the concept). . . . . I digress and babble-jabber {duh} . . . . Black Death was there too. . . . The events or that era were super imposed upon a canvas of people occasionally bouncing. Some skies included horrific airplane crashes that captured too many souls. Stuff happened. Fate was and is the hunter. We were (are) the prey. . . . . The magic mantra of *My sh-t* don't stink; I never Fu-k Up! Rebounded in our face like a wet cream pie. People died. People continued to die. Yes, even the righteous frapped. . .. . . That was acceptable. Life happens. . . . . . . . But, sometimes the dead folks were friends. Buddy. Lover. Pal. Shit! That happenstance hurt too badly to not cry. . . . . . Sport parachuting had [has] a sprinkle of *Sport Death* to season our skydive salad. . . . . The myth of being death-proof was/is erased by a grim reaper swinging a random scythe. .............. Gladly, for us, skydive is *Sport Life* Actually, for all, *Sport Death* lurks....... The fact that you've not died recently does not insure that you will live forever. To celebrate today and to experience tomorrow, recall the genesis of *Sport Death* Yes Sport Death is a way cool T-shirt. However the message was and is, *Lets all be careful up there. Yes” Blue ones! . . . Soft ones! . . . . . Happy ones! Always, Crazy Pat (2-cats) Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,

http://www.cs.fiu.edu/~esj/uwf/uwf8.htm Introduction. RWunderground does not ordinarily print stories or poems about death. But we're printing this piece by Matt Farmer because we think it is more about life than it is about death, and we want to share it with you. A Friend Goes In. The Story of a Jump. This is going to be a good one. I can feel everyone psyching up for it, as we turn jump run. Quinn is up front, keeping everybody loose and the vibes up. "Alright, let's do it!" "Air dive, Air dive, feels great." "Air dive, Air dive, can't wait." The twin Beech vibrates at a new pitch, as the driver throttles back. Floaters swing through the door and hang waiting. We move quickly to stack ourselves in the door. Heydorn is in the door. I slide in behind him and Luginbill leans tightly over the two of us. Melroy, Captain, Wooten, Herman and Gruber take their places. Between Heydorn's back pack and the top of the door, I can see Chuck and Quinn watching me intently for the start of the count. Their jumpsuits are already flapping in the wind we will all feel in a second. "Ready!" Gruber starts the count. "Ready," comes back the response. Stacked in the door and counting, I can feel the adrenalin flow, mind and body winding up - "Go!" We explode from the tight confines of the Beech into a bright blue sky two miles deep and stretching from horizon to horizon, I catch a good exit and look for Heydorn. He's right in position and the floaters are close behind him, tracking up on the still slow air. Quinn is up and on first with a beautiful fingertip dock. I close facing him on Heydorn's left hand. Chuck's up from the other float slot as Luginbill docks beside me on Heydorn's right arm. A five-spider fast, clean and stable. Looking out for Melroy's side-in approach, I catch in my periphery above us Gruber's flare to the back door. He is perhaps fifteen feet above us, head down to the point of being nearly vertical, fully flared against the momentum of his approach speed. He looks for all the world like a flying squirrel in a desperate full spread flight to a small tree branch. Melroy slides into his side-in slot and Quinn and I catch him with no trouble. It's going great. I glance over my shoulder to see where Wooten is. He's on a smooth final to the tip slot on Melroy's leg. Gruber's already in on the point and Captain has finished his side-in when I look back across the now nearly complete ten-wedge. Only the two tips are out and they close a heartbeat later, right on the pace. Little more than 25 seconds have passed since exit, the base formation is complete. Everyone's attention is on Heydorn, He will key the break with a simple nod of his head. Ready -Now, he nods, hands release grips, the ten-wedge breaks into three pieces. Two three-man wedges separate from a four-man diamond. The two wedges are side by side, facing the diamond. As the pieces begin to separate, the wedge that I am a wingman of turns a quick 180. The other wedge turns with us, between us and the diamond. Melroy, Wooten and I are the base wedge. We take up a heading, trying hard to hold it and fall straight down. I take a quick look over my inside shoulder and see the other wedge move into position behind us, ten feet up and ten feet out. The diamond is right behind them, on their level or maybe a little lower. My gauge reads five grand. We've got the time. Three pieces are in position and we can dock them to triple diamonds, if we hurry. I take a glance at the ground, then back at the gauge. Coming up on four grand - still no dock. I look back over my shoulder again. The other wedge is almost on us. They are shooting a very vertical approach, carrying a lot of speed. Captain on the point of their wedge has his arms back and up; Luginbill and Herman, his wingmen, are tucked up tight. The diamond is in close, already on our level, moving for the slot that will be there when the wedge docks. Crash, the wedge, unable to brake all their vertical approach speed, comes on hard. Captain catches the grips and we struggle to regain stability. Before we can dampen the effects of the hard dock, the diamond, already committed, piles into the back of the two struggling wedges. Heydorn, on the point of the diamond, comes up with a grip on Luginbill. We fight for stability. The oscillation begins to dampen but the formation distorts where the grip is missing between Heydorn and Herman. Tension pulls at the formation; we struggle to stabilize and connect the open grip. It's no good - Snap, we lose a grip. The formation starts to break up. I let go, turn to my left and lay it back into a track. Right at three grand, safe and sane, I track hard, then sit up and look over my shoulder. Above and far off to my right, I see Heydorn unload his P.C. Nothing over the shoulder, I wave and punch. My rag comes off clean and I feel the steady pull of opening. Just as I'm getting the opening shock, I see Heydorn again, not a hundred feet away, still at terminal velocity. His P.C. is streamering. Words flash in my mind. Streamer ... Streamer...cut-it-away ... cut it ... Long before the words can be verbalized I see - seemingly in the very instant I perceive his situation - a flash of white, his reserve. The scene screams away toward the earth. I watch. Stark white against the dark red and black of his tangled main, the reserve streams out. It doesn't bloom. It's tangled; tangled in the mess of line and canopy over his head. Fear! Fear for this man, my friend. Fear borne of knowledge. Knowledge of time and speed and the ground. The words pour out. "Come on ... Come on ... pull it out, pull it out." Seconds tear by. I watch, far below, the ground, the still hurtling figure, the flapping tangle of red, black and white. I watch, small now against the enormous earth, the man and the flapping un-opening chutes. Fear and helplessness - my thoughts race - the time - Christ the time - come on - come on. I can see it's too late only an instant before he collides with the planet. A ring of dust and sand explodes outward from the violence of the impact. The flapping tangle of nylon lies still against the hard brown desert. Dead. Oh, God. lie's dead, Not ten seconds have passed. Ten seconds, a life time. I hang spent, drifting slowly toward the desert under my breathing canopy. A deep sadness washes over me. I feel empty. On the ground I can see cars stopping on the highway. People are running from the hangars to form a small circle around the smashed, lifeless figure. I am momentarily angry at these vultures, What do they want here? Do they think they will understand something of their own impending deaths by staring blankly at this man's? I land and walk toward the hangar. The spectators drifting past me look curiously at the parachute rolled in my arms, Their eyes are bright as they hurry to see violent death. They don't understand the loss. What can they know of Heydorn - of fast hands and a quick mind, of an easy laugh and his intense personal sanity. To them it is only an opportunity to see a newspaper headline in real life. - Chutist Falls -Something to tell at work Monday. Those of us who were on the dive drift slowly into the packing area. Eyes sad, movements strangely slow and deliberate. No one quite knows what to do with themselves - I am here, but my friend is dead. We stand in a small circle around Ron's van. There are short snatches of conversation. "It doesn't seem real - not somebody like Heydorn." "A streamer." "No cut-away." "Entanglement." "Fought it all the way in." "God, did you see him hit." The conversation dies out, each of us lost in his own thoughts, Thoughts about dying - about this odd chain of events we call life that leads us to it. He made a mistake. You can throw a reserve past a streamer sometimes. - A chance. He rolled and lost. Now he's lying in a broken heap out by the highway and I'm sitting here feeling the hot sun on my back and wondering. Wondering what it is we seek in freefall. Why are we here? "Hey, that was a good dive." Someone breaks the silence. "Yea, that spider was right there." Someone else picks it up. "Quick wedge." "Really." "That was a nice swoop, Grube." "The break to pieces looked good to me." "Yea, but, when the lead wedge turned, it dropped down and away." "Right, and vertical separation makes it hard." The conversation rambles on slowly. I'm half listening and thinking -Well, what are we doing? Our friend is dead and we are standing here talking over the dive. But we're skydivers and so was Heydorn. Our lives and perhaps our deaths are tied up in this thing we call skydiving. Who's to say? We are only human, so we all live to die - and there are many ways to die - many ways. You can be so afraid of dying that you can't live. Life is what skydiving is all about. In free-fall you know you're alive. You're right there on the edge where the world is moving. Where time is right now. Jimmy Hendrix said it right - "I'm the one who has to die when it's my time to go, so let me live my life the way I want to." The talk is slowing down. I glance up, squinting against the setting sun to see who's talking. It's Luginbill, big hands thrust deep in his blue jean pockets, kicking aimlessly at the gravel with his toe and summing it up in one easy sentence- "Yea, well, no sweat, we'll get it. All we need is a few more dives." Matt Farmer Pat Works nee Madden Travis Works, Jr .B1575, C1798, D1813, Star Crest Solo#1, USPA#189,