sfullerman

At that time the dz was 10 miles west of Ruston Louisiana, in a little town called Simsboro. Most of the folks jumping there were remnants of the La Tech Univ Skydive Team. I say "remnants" because the team had been disbanded....I'm sure like all discontinued activities, the schools budget got the blame. Pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with an "alleged" jump into the University pool (cant remember the exact list of injuires, but there were multipul limbs and such broken) ...or the "alleged" illegal jump into a homecoming game. Up until that time (naive me) always thought if they didn't catch you with your rig on you had got away clean.....didn't realize them fed. boys would actually hunt folks down! The alleged jumper on that occasion was "jumpmaster dude" from the clit-head story. You talking about being glad you weren't him...a few weeks later we got ahold of a copy of the legal news (area court docket) and there in really bold font "UNITED STATES OF AMERICA vs JUMPMASTER DUDE" When he saw that, his butt puckerd up like a buggy hub! He eventually beat it, or the govt lost interest...can't remember which, but he never got locked up for it.

Thanks for the kind words brother! I've got a p.s. to that story that makes me look like a frickin MIT grad..... Remember the guy at the end of the story ? The one that called me a "clit head"? A couple of months after my incident, this guy was gonna jumpmaster a student load. He had them geared up, and they were to meet the plane (C-182) The aircraft pulls up, this cocky jumpmaster fella is walking around gesturing at the students to herd them onboard...he's backing up towards the airplane yelling and pointing...and yep, backed into the spinning prop! I'm tellin'ya bro....the sound that prop made tearing into that rig is something I can still hear 20+ YEARS later. The prop (of course) tore thru the container, snagged the reserve kite, and for a second or two was dragging the canopy out and wrapping it around the cone , prop...well, all that stuff up front on the plane. The pilot was lightening fast with his reaction ...(this whole thing transpired over the course of probably a second and a half) He killed the mags, the engine quit, the prop stopped.....jumpmaster dude was standing there with the entire reserve kite out of the container and a couple of the line stows undone....I think the others popped out when he went to his knees. Out of respect for the severity of the situation, we all stood there in silence...for about three seconds. Then the laughing began in earnest. To this day I still get this pain in my lower back, kinda on the side...I'm pretty sure I damaged a kidney laughing that day . Which is not as cold as it sounds, when you hear the rest. It was his own jumpsuit he shat in when it happened, but the rig he was wearing was borrowed from another guy that .....uhhhh, wasn't the most popular feller on the dz. And since it didn't kill the dude, we figured he was fair game. I recognize a gift from God when it's set before me...I sauntered my 53 jump self over to him...leaned over,looked him right in his pale face and said......."nice deployment , clit head" Sweet.... p.s.s. - I later became really good friends with the guy.The day of the prop incident, He rang the reapers doorbell and ran away ....it was nearly 15 years before they were to meet again, his hard lifestyle had made his body tired...he simply laid down on the couch one morning before work, and passed on . RIP Bro. And no, I dont feel bad telling this on him, if he were here he'd tell it on his own self, and then give me a ration of S*%# for doggin on the dead guy.

"i dont know what your trying to say here and i DONT WANT TO KNOW IT!!!" ----------------------------------------------------------- Thats probably because you dont want your wife borrowing any of Mac's "equipment" for the honey moon Looking forward to reading all about the "Faber Hucks America" Tour!

This may come more under the heading of "stupid" than scary......well, how bout it was scary how -stupid- I was? 1981, I had around 50 jumps..it was a rainy Wenesday afternoon, and I had skydive'n on the brain. Just so I could be doing something skydive related, I decided to pack my rig in my apartment. Kite in the living room, lines running down a short hall way and disappearing around a corner into the bed room.{stupid #1} I've heard of folks packing in the trunk of their car, the back seat , a picnic table etc...perhaps they were qualified to do so..me, in hindsight, I should'a been out in an acre or two field with 3-4 people helping. Saturday morning I strap on the "indoor" pack job and head for altitude. Up to this time, my log book entries said 3way -"attempt" ...4 way - "attempt" . At 4 grand we had a 3 way and were holding on for that last guy to close...he was doin that hovering thing about 2-3 feet away. I'm whoopin and yelling cause I can almost taste the first log book entry without the dreaded "attempt" word in it! He finally closes, we hold it for a nano second, a glance at my altimeter shows us cruising thru 1800 ft. {stupid#2} I wasn't the only rookie on the load...when everyone else realized we were low... there was a lot of -"YOU track, I'll dump!" - {stupid#3} My relief after feeling opening shock (and no collision) was short lived when I looked up and saw the slider about half way down the lines and wadded into a huge knot. {ref:stupdi#1} Instead of choppin it on sight..I played with it down to under a grand {stupid#...man I'm losing track} Finally I cut away..for the life of me I cant remember what that cut-a-way system was called, but it had a velcro strap that fed through a slot on the riser hardware, then down through a slot in the harness connection..and looped a few times. The dang canopy was fixed to the harness with velcro! {stupid# aaaww forget it} Between cutting away and pulling my reserve handle, I took time to wave off (which I thought was really cute at the time) so some where around 6-700 ft I saddle out under my 24' flat and start a speedy decent. (weighed in at 220lbs) I realize I'm gonna land in the trees, cover up, close my eyes as I'm hitting the limbs. A couple of seconds later I feel my feet hit the ground, and an instant later the back of my head thumps the turf. Instantly I feel my helmet begin filling with blood, and I mean filling fast. My eyes were still closed , so I opened them to take in my last few moments on earth, as my life blood drained away. A quick glance to my left revealed that I was laying head down in a little stream. The water was flowing into the hole in my pro-tech (thru my head and out the other side unabated I'm sure!) As I walked back into the packing area, dripping wet and muddy, one of the grizzled ole vets(2-300 jumps) came up and said "when I saw you having a function I started to get my camera ...then I thought, who would want a picture of a clit head like you?"....my thoughts exactly bro...it's a wonder they even let me outta the house.

"I had a Viking Superlite for awhile" --------------------------------------------------------- I did too, 40 jumps and four malfs later, it became an awning!

She so black ... she went to night school for 6 weeks and was marked "absent". Yo momma so fat ...they made her quit wearin Malcom X t-shirts....cause helicopters kept landing on her ass.

How many people know how you can quickly reach the 78th page on the Blinc Archives? Only some people eventually learn that you can change the page=XX in the URL at the top instead of clicking "next page" 78 div 3 times. ------------------------------------------------------------ I know NOW ...thanks to you bailing me out with an answer a few weeks ago! Wish I would'a asked before my marathon click'n sessions with the archives on this forum. Thanks Dead Jaap!

Last jump - Oct 18, 1986 What made me stop? - total on my main, streamer to explosion on reserve.....( I suppose the broken back,foot, and internal injuries were a factor too) I can vouch for the fact that friendships forged in the sky dont end because of being groundbound. Oh, and that stuff you hear about "after you'e been there, you never quit looking at the sky, and yearning to return"....yeah.....it's true. At least , after 18 years, it's still true for me.

Anyone heard from Laurel today?

Condolences to his family and wide circle of friends. What year did Jon begin dragging folks out of the river on BD?

Have learned much in the past several weeks reading your forum....everything from the technical aspects of the sport, down to the varied reasons you step to the edge. Something I've been wondering about.....how does a night leap compare to one made in broad daylight as far as visual stimulation? I understand the necessity for jumping at night to aviod burning a site,but does it rob you of the (visual) ground rush pump,or is that replaced by the feeling of leaping off in to a black void? I attended Bridge Day '86 and only made one jump...but I have to say it was 4.5 of the most exciting seconds of my life. That was 18 years ago, and to this day I can still vividly remember the ground rush. So only having that for refference, I wonder about the night leaps. p.s. one week after BD '86 I bounced with a total on my main, and a streamer to an exploded reserve....haven't jumped since. I live vicariously through you guys. Reading your adventures and exploits reminds me of the day I got to crawl over the rail.