Soaring with Angels


By Suzanne Cole

Having rested my face against the window of commercial planes all my life, I had often wished that I could jump out the window and be free as a bird in flight without the roar of engines and the onboard clatter and chatter. So I decided that in celebration of my 65th birthday I would skydive in tandem, much to my husband’s chagrin, but also support. He could not imagine jumping out of a perfectly good plane.

I had done research on the subject and after talking to Al, the general manager at Skydive Arizona, I knew that other disabled people had successfully skydived in tandem, so why couldn’t I? I had also done research on the Internet and learned that the first tandem skydive took place in 1977 and the special tandem gear, collectively called a rig, was patented in 1987 by Strong Enterprises, a top maker and supplier of all kinds of parachutes and relevant equipment.

I discovered that the tandem harness, drogue chute, reserve chute, main canopy and all connecting equipment costs over $9,000, so I fully understood and appreciated the fee for this greatest of birthday presents I was giving to myself. The fee for the photographer, an Australian named Ash, was also appropriate, considering the amazing still shots he would get from the camera attached to his helmet, and the real action recorded by his digital video camera, attached likewise. He would trip the shutter with a mouth device and get me in every frame, he said–how, I couldn’t imagine.

I reported to Skydive Arizona at the Eloy Airport at 9:30 on Saturday morning (I had filled out the required paperwork and seen the requisite video two days before). Upon arrival at the Eloy Airport drop zone, my husband unloaded my electric scooter from my car, and about an hour later I rode my scooter out to the plane and was lifted into the DeHavilland Twin Otter by two members of the staff. I was seated between Matt and Ash on a long bench across from the garage style door. The other jumpers, including three girls, climbed up a ladder into the plane. There were 23 jumpers in all, all much younger than I.

As the plane climbed, the patchwork of fields of agriculture and desert got smaller and smaller. Finally we leveled off over Eloy, about halfway between Phoenix and Tucson. The sky was cloudy, which provided a soft backdrop for the photos. As the young jumpers quickly filed past me through the plane toward the large, wide open door, several of them high-fived me with big grins on their faces. One by one they stood at the door, briefly held onto the bar at the top, leaned into the cold wind, and leaped out.

Finally, being last, and the only tandem skydiver, it was my turn. My jumpmaster, Matt, had securely fastened my parachute harness to his and carefully tightened all of the straps, asking if I was OK several times during the plane’s ascent to 13,000 feet. The super strong straps were secured over my shoulders, around my chest and under my legs. Holding me in a sitting position, Matt carried my full weight across the aisle to the open door. The photographer stepped out onto a small step and snapped our picture. Then whoosh–out and down we went–falling at 120 mph in the face of an incredible rush of wind.

The small, round pilot chute that acts as a drogue/brake to extract the main parachute from the container was released immediately, keeping us in a prone position throughout our free fall. After just under a minute, Matt pulled the cord of the blue and white main parachute, or canopy, which quickly pulled us into an upright position. We slowed down to where we could see in every direction. Matt pointed out various landmarks to me as he expertly guided us toward the landing field.

Just before landing, he maneuvered us around into a circle formation on our sides, then back upright, and glided us into the round tan target within the grassy landing field. This target, or pit, is a pea gravel area used as a target reference and is forgiving in hard landings. Matt took the brunt of the landing on his hips/butt and then I hit on mine, but not hard. Throughout the dive Matt held his legs outside of my legs as one of mine is partially paralyzed and is encased in a plastic and metal brace. He obviously had much experience with disabled people and was most cognizant of my comfort and safety.

Having been a polio survivor since 1945, and having experiencing post-polio syndrome the past several years, my tandem skydive was the most awesome, exhilarating, wonderful experience of my life. Not for a second did I feel any fear or worry. I fully trusted Matt and his expertise. I soared with the angels, who set me gently back onto earth. There a staff member immediately delivered my scooter, which I rode to my waiting group of RV friends, who had enthusiastically given me their support and cheers upon landing.

Over a million people skydive in tandem each year. I was overjoyed and extremely grateful to be one of them.

Suzanne Cole is a polio survivor, retired medical technologist and freelance editor. She lives in Sedona, Ariz., with her husband, four cats and a dog, and loves to travel.


Support New Mobility

Wait! Before you wander off to other parts of the internet, please consider supporting New Mobility. For more than three decades, New Mobility has published groundbreaking content for active wheelchair users. We share practical advice from wheelchair users across the country, review life-changing technology and demand equity in healthcare, travel and all facets of life. But none of this is cheap, easy or profitable. Your support helps us give wheelchair users the resources to build a fulfilling life.

donate today

Comments are closed.