In 1983 I made my first jump. In August that year the Lodestar crashed and many local jumpers and friends died still trapped within it. It was my first real experience with death and the enormity of losing so many people at once was almost overwhelming. There were jumpers who survived who never jumped again, and others who weren't there but for whom the sport would never be the same, so they quit too.

In 1985 after working manifest for several years I started jumping again. In 1987 with 186 jumps I was on a 4way and watched a friend get wrapped up in his horseshoed lines, fire his reserve into the functioned main on his back and fall to earth fighting all the way. I was across from him in the skydive, we had eye contact as he was diving down to us, and he saw me look past him as the bag and lines lifted up and out of his container. He had 86 jumps and I was the experienced jumper on the load. His eyes asked me, "what's happening?, what should I do?" I was close enough to be afraid of getting caught up in the lines snaking around his body. I am certain he saw the fear in my eyes mirror his own. I wanted to help, I was screaming to him mentally and I knew as he reached for his reserve handle it was all wrong - he couldn't hear me, and it was too late. It was over, but it really wasn't, but it was. And then it REALLY was.

Jumping again was something that I knew I had to do quickly if I was going to it at all. I was afraid to pack my own main, I couldn't remember the proper way to do it. I was afraid to freefall, I wasn't sure I could maintain altitude awareness. I was afraid.

I was fortunate. I had friends who hugged me, who supported me and who held me stable for several jumps before I could relax in the air again. One of the other jumpers on that fatal 4way stopped jumping that day. One of the people who helped me keep jumping hasn't jumped in years. I am still here. I am still jumping. I am a survivor.

My first jump instructor told me that if I kept with this sport I would see people die and they would be my friends. The community is too small, it is unavoidable. I have lost many, too many friends and yet I keep jumping. I am not ready to die, I am not ready to stop living. I have to keep jumping because it is part of me, a defining part, something I cannot separate from breathing. Some years I jump more, some less. But I keep jumping. In 1998 when my daughter was born, many people expected me to quit. Instead I went to the Arizona Challenge and breastfed between loads! Last year, Sandy's death shook me and I questioned my responsibilities as a mother but I am still jumping. I hope that I live a long life and get to share many years with Victoria. I hope she finds something that is as special to her, as skydiving is and has been to me. I hope she understands that I have no choice, I have to jump, it's who I am.

I appreciate the friends who are no longer with me. I miss them and I think of them often. I like to imagine that they are sharing the sky with me on those most rare and beautiful Seattle summer days. I also love and thank God for the friends who are there for me still. I doubt I am as good a friend to them as they are to me.

Thank you JC for supporting my habit and for shouldering a heavier parenting burden when my jumping calendar is as busy as it is this year. I love you.

Thank you Art for your selflessness in friendship and all that you do. I can't imagine not having you as my best friend, you are as much a part of my life as jumping is.

Thank you George and Janie, Beatrice and Daniel for being such special people -- it is always so wonderful to visit and jump with you.

Thank you Mollie for making me laugh, and for being you.

Thank you Ginger for always saying I'm a better skydiver than I really am. That's a true friend for you! <G>

Thank you Jamey. You made it easy for me do it more than once. I'm still kicking and so are you!

Thank you Charlie and Vic for staying active in skydiving for 30+ years and for sharing yourselves with the Seattle Sky Divers. You are two of my favorite people to see!

Thank you Mark Gill for helping me through the time after Mike died. If you decide to get back in the air, you'd better call me so I can help hold YOU stable this time!

In the end, it will be the friends who remain who will join with you and comfort you when there is a loss. Cherish them and choose to be a survivor. There is still a lot of living to be done, sometimes we have to grit our teeth, muscle through and just get to it.

deb-debonair