“Keegan Brown” yelled the instructor, as he was calling out names for the next load of people. My heart was racing like a racehorse, and my mind was telling my limbs not to move from my spot. However, I walked over to where I was being getting strapped up into a harness, that would be my safety net between life and death. It was double and triple checked, so no room for error would be made, and then we walked over to who our instructors would be for the jump.
Someone had told me that my instructor was Carl, so I began looking for him. This tan skinned, bald Latino wearing expensive sunglasses who was at least 6-8 inches shorter began walking towards me. He sauntered over, and I could tell that he was well built, had tattoos on his legs, and gave off this impression that you did not want to mess with him.
“ Hey I’m Carl, your instructor and I’m from Carlsbad, so do you know what that makes me? A Carls bad a**” said Carl.
Oh great I thought to myself, this man is going to get me really hurt or even worse killed. I just smiled back at him at his joke and also met my photographer who was Steve, and together with other pairs of people we began walking out to the plane, which was sitting idly on the runway. Each step brought a wave of anxiety to my brain, as it began to realize that this was something I was really doing. We finally got to the end of the walkway to the welcoming opening in the plane to climb into. Once we were are set and ready to go, the plane began to taxi down the runway at a pace that seemed like a snail’s pace. Finally the plane got to one end of the runway, and began sputtering down the road. The wheels became unglued to the ground, and the plane was in the air.
Foot after foot, we were rising in the air like a bird in the sky. The butterflies were beginning to form within my stomach, and began thinking maybe this was not the best idea in the world. We reached our maximum altitude, and I began to get strapped onto my “professional” instructor, Carl. We were one of the last people to jump, so I watched person after person jump, and become tiny little dots across the sky. We finally waddled together over to the bay door and there I was standing on the edge of a plane over 13,000 feet in the air. My knees grew weak as I was standing there about to jump out of a plane. My mind went blank, for my brain could not compute with what my body was about to do. My last image ironically was looking out onto Mexican soil.
And then Whoosh! A shot of adrenaline rushed throughout my body like an electric shot. My instructor decided to do a backflip coming out of the plane without telling me, and I was taken completely by surprise. Then there we were, falling towards the Earth very fast, and it was amazing. We did a couple of little tricks, but mostly I was just enjoying this great feeling I was experiencing. It was just like in “Toy Story” when Buzz Lightyear, one of my favorite childhood memories, says he was not flying but “falling, with style.” Here I was reenacting what my childhood hero did that I thought was the coolest thing in the world, and that was “flying”. But when I touched down, I would be Buzz Lightyear no more but instead a newly fledged adult. Within a couple of minutes, my falling with style ended and a new life began.