Things that the Wife Disapproved of (or WOULD, if she knew about them)

JoeCool brought up a couple of incidents that made me smile.  I think that this is a more appropriate place to reply than in the "Miracles" thread.

In 1975, I was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas, and was a member of the Fort Hood Parachute Club.

One day I was jumping with my ParaCommander Parachute from about 7,600 feet (30-second free fall).

As I recall, it was a rather windy day, and so I did not want to open too high and drift past the intended landing area.  You are normally required to deploy your 'chute at 2,500 feet, but I exercised my privileges as an Advanced Parachutist to take it down to 2,000 feet (and maybe just a tad past that).

A ParaCommander was a rather sophisticated parachute, and so with more stuff going on, it sometimes had more things to go wrong.  Of course, things only go wrong when you are "pushing the envelope", never when you are being "spanky clean".

The P/C would generally just about pull your boots off when opening, but this time, it really opened slowly, taking several seconds.

When I checked Canopy, I saw that a couple of the front suspension lines were wrapped around the Center Line of the parachute.  I kind-of debated trying to ride it in, but decided against it.

So with the low pull, slow deployment time, and mental debating time over going to my Reserve, I was getting close to 1,000 feet altitude (minimum altitude for jettisoning your Main and deploying your Reserve).

So I pulled open the covers on my Canopy Releases and said, "When in Rome", and then pulled the release rings, jettisoning the Main Canopy and going back into free-fall.

As soon as I was stable, I deployed my Reserve, which functioned properly.

HOWEVER:

I said that it was windy, so I had exited the aircraft about 3/4 mile upwind from the Landing/Spectator area.

The other folks on the drop zone saw my slow opening and sensed that something may have been amiss.  They then saw me jettison my Main.

Now there happened to be a hill between them and me, so what they saw was me going back into free-fall and disappearing behind the hill.

I landed without much incident, had rolled up my Reserve, and was about to walk a couple of hundred yards to where my ParaCommander had fluttered off to.

About that time, I saw my 19-year-old fiance come running up over the hill with tears in her eyes.

She thought that she had become a widow before she was ever a bride.

As I started to ask her if she just saw what happened to me, there was a conversation (but she was the only one speaking) and it started with, "DON'T YOU EVER...." (or words to that effect).

That's awesome!

Married so young. 

I can't see jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. I guess my faith needs more working on before I would do that. When I was younger I recall dreams of being able to fly or float wherever at will.

She was just a 19-year-old Private First-Class.

I was a dashing 24-year-old Buck-Sergeant with a combat tour.

You should write a memoir. I bet you could fill a book.

I said that before about guns too.  After reading it he may have to kill us... ya know for nat'l security reasons.

My younger son wanted to go on an overnight kayak trip on the Missouri River, retracing part of Lewis and Clark's expedition. He picked the location and the date, and I worked it all out. After his graveyard shift, my wife drove us out there and we launched. What a beautiful day, paddling upstream, looking at the sheep (the wild kind) at the water's edge. Well, the distance was much further than estimated, and my son was getting a bit cranky with no sleep.

After many hours we spotted the camping site and pulled the kayaks out...to see a "Fire Hazard - No Camping Allowed!" sign. Sigh. While heating up a meal and contemplating several more miles of upstream paddling, my son said it would sure be nice to hitch a ride. Moments later, a houseboat pulls in. Struck up a conversation with them, but they're going downstream. Ten minutes later, an outboard with two guys ties up to the dock.

Turns out the talkative one used to be in the Navy and calls himself Admiral Dave. Sure, he says, we'll take you upstream. We load up quickly and get in the water. We get a kayak on each side of Dave's boat, and hang on to the gunnel. As soon as we get going, Dave finishes his beer and reaches into the bilge for a bottle of tequila. Over the next 20 minutes or so, laughing, drunk Dave makes big S-turns, speeds up and slows down. I keep an eye on my son, but he gives me a thumbs-up. Crazy ride, but it's better than paddling.

Another S-turn and we're heading directly for the bank. I wait, look up at Dave and watch him slowly tumble into the bilge, passed out. I yell out a warning and we let go. The boat drove itself onto big rocks and we could hear the propeller destroying itself. Dave's friend turns off the motor, my son and I get out of our kayaks and manage to push the aluminum boat back into the water. The last we saw of them, they were drifting downstream.

Don't tell Mom, okay?

What did you guys tell mom when she asked how it went?

RRCmdrBennett wrote:What did you guys tell mom when she asked how it went?

Four years later, we confessed. And she still gave us the look.

Funny thing is they act all worried and concerned over something that happened 4 yrs ago.

It's funny but I don't recommend telling Mom too much info. They will be scared to death to send their son with you.

With out Mis Adventure there is no Adventure! I have a great devotion that talks about that.

Everytime my son tells his mom about something that happens it comes back and bites me. He is slowly learning that some things just don't need to be talked about. ( I am talking about adventure here not moral failures)

Also. We do a report on our outings in front of the rest of the guys. I have one boy that always gives the worst thing that happened to him. That was the worst night I ever had... or that was the wettest I have ever been... or I starved .. all of these things were his own fault yet... he is a drama queen and gives a negative report. I laugh at him now and tell everyone he makes it sound bad but it was a lot of fun. He always goes... GRIN! People are fickle.

Mark Jones

After its over lots of folks enjoy telling their hardship stories.