Autobiography - The Galindo Group

Ram Galindo THE MAKING OF AN AMERICAN Page 194
tandem jump, a static chord jump or an accelerated free fall jump. In his self-confident
and adventurous form, he suggested that we go “for the whole enchilada,” meaning a
solo free fall jump. After an eight-hour class we were accepted as good candidates for
the event.
I have to say that looking out from the threshold of an open door at 13,000 feet above
the ground without a safety barrier is close to a barfing experience. However, getting out
of the plane and climbing onto a wing strut while buffeted by a 90 m.p.h. wind is plain
terrifying. To be honest, the pretty lady instructor in charge of my jump had to literally
push me out the door while her companion was pulling me from the outside. Secretly
hoping that they would commute my self-imposed sentence, I informed them that my
chute was caught up in the threshold and that in any case I needed to adjust the straps
better. They didn’t budge. They just helped me correct both problems. As silly as it
sounds, I finally found myself crawling out the door while wondering why I took the little
training class.
I ended up standing on the wing strut of a stripped down Cessna 172 flying more than
two miles above the ground with nothing but emptiness under me. It was a situation of
my own deliberate making. There was no reason in the world why I should be doing
this. As I prepared to let go, I reprimanded myself for being so stupid as to put myself in
that situation and wished I could turn back. I considered doing just that, but the wind
and two instructors who were now on the wing with me were blocking my re-entry path. I
had no choice but to jump.
My Dad’s memory overwhelmed my thoughts. He had passed away two years before
and I was now asking him to receive me back in his realm. I was sure this was my
return trip back to him. In a flash all the major events and loved people of my life passed
through my mind. Nevertheless, my time of panic must have been instantaneous
because I found myself on schedule following the pre-established sequences to start
the jump. When I finally completed them and initiated the jump, I felt falling like a sack of
potatoes. Instinctively I flailed my arms and knocked off the eye goggles of the very
experienced and attractive young lady who was jumping with me. It seemed that the
uncontrolled fall lasted an eternity, but it was only about four seconds. Finally I achieved
aerodynamic velocity and was able to start the sequences for the free fall.
It took me less than fifty seconds to descend to the altitude where I had to open my
parachute, which was about a mile lower than my jump elevation. It was the fastest mile
I had ever covered under my own power. The exhilaration of a free fall parachute jump
is unequaled by anything I have ever done. One can see the world beneath as a bird
sees it, with no shields of any kind. In later jumps I learned how to maneuver and
perform somersaults and rolls in total freedom before I opened the parachute. My
engineering training helped me understand the mechanics and my gymnastics
background helped me execute as directed. Almost like being under the ocean, the
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