The 72 year old Skydiver
On March 25, 1997 (16 years ago today) 72 year old former President George H. W. Bush fulfilled a promise he had made to himself during the second world war. He told himself that someday he would jump out of a plane in a parachute for fun.
Bush's first parachute jump came when his plane was shot down over the Pacific on September 2, 1944 during World War II. He bailed out at 1,500 feet after a bombing mission over ChiChi Jima. His two crewmates didn't make it. He would make six more parachute jumps, with others being made on his 75th, 80th and 85th birthday. Another jump was made in November 2007, at the reopening of his presidential library at Texas A&M University. He made that jump unannounced after hip replacement surgery. The last two jumps were tandem jumps, with Sgt. 1st Class Mike Elliott of the Army's Golden Knights. The last jump, made in 2009 on his 85th birthday, was also made in tandem with Elliott.
Before making his second jump (his first voluntary one), the 72 year old Bush sought permission from his children. His friend Colin Powell tried to talk him out of it, unsuccessfully. Powell said to Bush "I know you look 45, but you're 72. How are your ankles, knees, etc?" US Army Chief of Staff General Dennis Reimer called Bush on March 7th to ask if Bush was serious about the jump. Bush was determined to do it.
In his 1999 book All The Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings, Bush recorded the following entry at pages 601-2:
March 25th - J Day
I went with your Mother to the jump area. Then, wearing my Desert Storm boots, I was off to a final plane-side briefing and into my white Elvis suit (with white helmet and white gloves - the King would have approved) before boarding. We were off.
The jumpers inside were hyped, giving the parachute jumper's equivalent of the high-five - two fists on top of the other guy's, then under, then knock the end of his fists, and finally index fingers pointing at each other (the signal for pulling the ripcord). I got caught up in the spirit of it all, totally hyped too.
Nearing the end of the exit zone, I was told to stand and back up towards the rear of the plane. My instructors kept saying "back up a little more sir, a little more." It was only then that I felt a twinge of fear - not panic, but rather a halting feeling in the leg, groin and gut.
Finally it was time.
"Are you ready to sky dive?"
"Ready to go!"
Before I knew it, I was plummeting face down towards the desert at 120 mph, shoulders arched, pelvis out.
When I pulled the ripcord at 5000 feet, the jolt was far greater than I expected. Looking up, I saw the multi-colored canopy fully deployed. I grabbed the handles over my head for steering. I checked the altimeter on my left wrist, amazed at the slow and gentle descent. I practiced by turns and the flare.
I was at peace. Gone was the noise from the free fall. I was alone, floating gently towards earth, reveling in the freedom, enjoying the view. It was a marvelous sensation.
The floating to earth took longer than I thought, but I wish it could have gone on twice as long. At about 750 feet, the ground seemed to come up at me much faster - more so at 100 feet. I was anxious to flare properly so as to make a soft landing and the order to do so came about 50 feet before hitting the ground.
Pulling down hard on the two shrouds gently softened the descent. I didn't hit hard, but a gust of wind seemed to pull me back. By then, my chute had been swarmed by the Golden Knights.
I was down. It had gone well. I had lived a dream.
Bar hugged me and smiled. All was well with the world.
Bush's first parachute jump came when his plane was shot down over the Pacific on September 2, 1944 during World War II. He bailed out at 1,500 feet after a bombing mission over ChiChi Jima. His two crewmates didn't make it. He would make six more parachute jumps, with others being made on his 75th, 80th and 85th birthday. Another jump was made in November 2007, at the reopening of his presidential library at Texas A&M University. He made that jump unannounced after hip replacement surgery. The last two jumps were tandem jumps, with Sgt. 1st Class Mike Elliott of the Army's Golden Knights. The last jump, made in 2009 on his 85th birthday, was also made in tandem with Elliott.
Before making his second jump (his first voluntary one), the 72 year old Bush sought permission from his children. His friend Colin Powell tried to talk him out of it, unsuccessfully. Powell said to Bush "I know you look 45, but you're 72. How are your ankles, knees, etc?" US Army Chief of Staff General Dennis Reimer called Bush on March 7th to ask if Bush was serious about the jump. Bush was determined to do it.
In his 1999 book All The Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings, Bush recorded the following entry at pages 601-2:
March 25th - J Day
I went with your Mother to the jump area. Then, wearing my Desert Storm boots, I was off to a final plane-side briefing and into my white Elvis suit (with white helmet and white gloves - the King would have approved) before boarding. We were off.
The jumpers inside were hyped, giving the parachute jumper's equivalent of the high-five - two fists on top of the other guy's, then under, then knock the end of his fists, and finally index fingers pointing at each other (the signal for pulling the ripcord). I got caught up in the spirit of it all, totally hyped too.
Nearing the end of the exit zone, I was told to stand and back up towards the rear of the plane. My instructors kept saying "back up a little more sir, a little more." It was only then that I felt a twinge of fear - not panic, but rather a halting feeling in the leg, groin and gut.
Finally it was time.
"Are you ready to sky dive?"
"Ready to go!"
Before I knew it, I was plummeting face down towards the desert at 120 mph, shoulders arched, pelvis out.
When I pulled the ripcord at 5000 feet, the jolt was far greater than I expected. Looking up, I saw the multi-colored canopy fully deployed. I grabbed the handles over my head for steering. I checked the altimeter on my left wrist, amazed at the slow and gentle descent. I practiced by turns and the flare.
I was at peace. Gone was the noise from the free fall. I was alone, floating gently towards earth, reveling in the freedom, enjoying the view. It was a marvelous sensation.
The floating to earth took longer than I thought, but I wish it could have gone on twice as long. At about 750 feet, the ground seemed to come up at me much faster - more so at 100 feet. I was anxious to flare properly so as to make a soft landing and the order to do so came about 50 feet before hitting the ground.
Pulling down hard on the two shrouds gently softened the descent. I didn't hit hard, but a gust of wind seemed to pull me back. By then, my chute had been swarmed by the Golden Knights.
I was down. It had gone well. I had lived a dream.
Bar hugged me and smiled. All was well with the world.