May 1970. I’m sitting in the back of a C-130 aircraft, along with 64 equally anxious guys, wearing 150 pounds of junk, all waiting to make our first parachute jump. The red “get ready” light comes on, and we now know it’s really going to happen. Commands to stand up, hook up, are sounded and we now are somewhere between excited and terrified. The rear doors open and the roar of the big propeller engines and the 130 mph wind thunders its way in. The green light comes on and the guys in front of me begin to disappear. The fear is equally divided between what’s about to happen and the potential disgrace of chickening out at the last minute. About 20 seconds following the first guy jumping, it’s my turn. I’m at the door and the ground looks like it’s 5 miles away (actually, only 1250 feet). Training kicks in, I’m out the door into the wind, and three seconds later everything works like it’s supposed to and fear gives way to exhilaration. Only four more jumps, each slightly less scary than the one before, and I reach my goal - the silver wings of a US Army paratrooper.
In the archive of many moments like this, the one that pops out to me today is from my first couple years as a young mom. My best friend and I had decided to spend the day at a local theme park with our children and while walking through the park, her oldest wanted to hold my daughter’s hand. Initially, I said no, holding on to my little one but she was persistent and as I got caught up in my conversation, let my little one fall to the back with the rest of the kiddos—being aware that the oldest was holding her hand. Not twenty seconds later, I look back and my daughter was gone. The next few minutes felt like years! It was the first time I realized how little control we have and how everything can change in an instant! We found her, or should I say, we found each other minutes later, thankfully! She had followed behind a woman that resembled me and thankfully a park officer had found her and was in the process of bringing her back over to us. I hadn’t thought of this in years but I’m grateful today that it didn’t turn out worse.
I'm putting myself in your shoes in this story, and I'm just overcome with fear and anxiety -- that's always been my biggest fear with my kids, especially when they were really little. I'm so glad everything worked out for you all too! What a relief 🥰
Wow, Terrell. This one hit me square in the chest. That Green River moment brought back a memory I didn’t even realize I’d tucked away — being 9 years old at a beach in Trinidad, thinking I was a strong swimmer until the current pulled me out past where I could stand. I remember the panic, the helplessness, and then the calm that came when my uncle swam out and grabbed me. Like you said: I thought I’d be fine.
We were on a family vacation in the Nag's Head area and I took my youngest daughter, 4 years old, into the ocean, clutching her hand. The waves were calm as we stood up & faced them coming towards us. Friends joined us and we "turned around" to chat. Out of nowhere a powerful wave knocked me over, flung my daughter out of my hands and when I resurfaced she was gone. I screamed for her and searched for her and my heart was about to explode. Then I saw her precious body washed up on the shore a 100 yards away. She was waving and laughing. I swooped her up in my arms and held her close for the rest of the trip. I have never been more frightened in my life...
Oh my gosh, Clark!!!! That moment, before you knew she was okay, even if it was just for a split second, must have been terrifying! I'm SO glad it all worked out okay!! (Obviously!)
Terrell thanks for sharing this reminder there are days that I find myself these days just saying to myself you can't control this. Work with what you have and help will come your way.
I was about 4 years old staying with my aunt and uncle while my parents were away with my brother, who was sick at the time. My cousins and I went to an evening VBS. I was the youngest and dropped at my room, not knowing anyone else. I survived that evening…making a keychain with yarn and getting to take home a real key! Anyway, I was collected by my cousins and off we headed to the family conversion van (this was way back in the late 70’s!). I somehow managed to fall behind and before I knew it, I was all alone to find the van on my own in a dark parking lot. I saw a vehicle starting to close all the doors…lo and behold, it was my van, everyone was loaded up and ready to go, except me! The van was started and they were ready to back up and leave. I’ll never forget the feeling of almost being left behind in an unfamiliar place. No one noticed little Jenna wasn’t with the group! Thank goodness God was with me that night and kept me safe while I wandered a parking lot. So many things could have happened. This story reminds me to always know that Jesus, regardless of my wandering, is always with me and will lead me back to the correct path!
I remember a wave. I was a child, but old enough and a strong enough swimmer that I was by myself in the water… some ocean. Parents were on the beach, relaxing. I was body surfing, maybe, in water that was not too deep, not too shallow, waves just enough to carry a kid a few yards for a thrill. Then a strong wave broke way bigger and toppled me. I remember that bolt of panic, the moments (probably milliseconds) of being tumbled underwater, not knowing which way was up, not knowing if my head would smash against the sand, not knowing if I had enough breath to find the surface. Then my feet found a purchase, my head found air, and it was over. Nobody else even knew. But all these decades later, I still don’t trust the playful little waves off an ocean beach.
May 1970. I’m sitting in the back of a C-130 aircraft, along with 64 equally anxious guys, wearing 150 pounds of junk, all waiting to make our first parachute jump. The red “get ready” light comes on, and we now know it’s really going to happen. Commands to stand up, hook up, are sounded and we now are somewhere between excited and terrified. The rear doors open and the roar of the big propeller engines and the 130 mph wind thunders its way in. The green light comes on and the guys in front of me begin to disappear. The fear is equally divided between what’s about to happen and the potential disgrace of chickening out at the last minute. About 20 seconds following the first guy jumping, it’s my turn. I’m at the door and the ground looks like it’s 5 miles away (actually, only 1250 feet). Training kicks in, I’m out the door into the wind, and three seconds later everything works like it’s supposed to and fear gives way to exhilaration. Only four more jumps, each slightly less scary than the one before, and I reach my goal - the silver wings of a US Army paratrooper.
You packed a lot into a few sentences! Good storytelling.
Agree with MaryAnn -- incredible story telling in a single paragraph, David!
In the archive of many moments like this, the one that pops out to me today is from my first couple years as a young mom. My best friend and I had decided to spend the day at a local theme park with our children and while walking through the park, her oldest wanted to hold my daughter’s hand. Initially, I said no, holding on to my little one but she was persistent and as I got caught up in my conversation, let my little one fall to the back with the rest of the kiddos—being aware that the oldest was holding her hand. Not twenty seconds later, I look back and my daughter was gone. The next few minutes felt like years! It was the first time I realized how little control we have and how everything can change in an instant! We found her, or should I say, we found each other minutes later, thankfully! She had followed behind a woman that resembled me and thankfully a park officer had found her and was in the process of bringing her back over to us. I hadn’t thought of this in years but I’m grateful today that it didn’t turn out worse.
I'm putting myself in your shoes in this story, and I'm just overcome with fear and anxiety -- that's always been my biggest fear with my kids, especially when they were really little. I'm so glad everything worked out for you all too! What a relief 🥰
Wow, Terrell. This one hit me square in the chest. That Green River moment brought back a memory I didn’t even realize I’d tucked away — being 9 years old at a beach in Trinidad, thinking I was a strong swimmer until the current pulled me out past where I could stand. I remember the panic, the helplessness, and then the calm that came when my uncle swam out and grabbed me. Like you said: I thought I’d be fine.
Exactly! Those moments stay with us forever, don't they?
We were on a family vacation in the Nag's Head area and I took my youngest daughter, 4 years old, into the ocean, clutching her hand. The waves were calm as we stood up & faced them coming towards us. Friends joined us and we "turned around" to chat. Out of nowhere a powerful wave knocked me over, flung my daughter out of my hands and when I resurfaced she was gone. I screamed for her and searched for her and my heart was about to explode. Then I saw her precious body washed up on the shore a 100 yards away. She was waving and laughing. I swooped her up in my arms and held her close for the rest of the trip. I have never been more frightened in my life...
And if anything had happened to my daughter, I honestly don't know how I could have lived with myself... I was a very fortunate Dad.
Oh my gosh, Clark!!!! That moment, before you knew she was okay, even if it was just for a split second, must have been terrifying! I'm SO glad it all worked out okay!! (Obviously!)
That "moment" is still with me but fortunately my little one, now 44, hardly remembers it. But she never turns her back on the ocean waves...
Well done Terrell. Great post
Terrell thanks for sharing this reminder there are days that I find myself these days just saying to myself you can't control this. Work with what you have and help will come your way.
Thanks so much, Mike!
And the closing comment of my old friend. . . What is easy to get into and hard to get out of?
I'd answer, I don't know. . .
His answer with a chuckle. . .Mischief!
Have a good run! :)
LOVE that, Nilima!
I was about 4 years old staying with my aunt and uncle while my parents were away with my brother, who was sick at the time. My cousins and I went to an evening VBS. I was the youngest and dropped at my room, not knowing anyone else. I survived that evening…making a keychain with yarn and getting to take home a real key! Anyway, I was collected by my cousins and off we headed to the family conversion van (this was way back in the late 70’s!). I somehow managed to fall behind and before I knew it, I was all alone to find the van on my own in a dark parking lot. I saw a vehicle starting to close all the doors…lo and behold, it was my van, everyone was loaded up and ready to go, except me! The van was started and they were ready to back up and leave. I’ll never forget the feeling of almost being left behind in an unfamiliar place. No one noticed little Jenna wasn’t with the group! Thank goodness God was with me that night and kept me safe while I wandered a parking lot. So many things could have happened. This story reminds me to always know that Jesus, regardless of my wandering, is always with me and will lead me back to the correct path!
This reminds me of Macauley Kulkin's character in Home Alone -- how could they not notice he was gone, you know?!
Exactly!!! Lol
I remember a wave. I was a child, but old enough and a strong enough swimmer that I was by myself in the water… some ocean. Parents were on the beach, relaxing. I was body surfing, maybe, in water that was not too deep, not too shallow, waves just enough to carry a kid a few yards for a thrill. Then a strong wave broke way bigger and toppled me. I remember that bolt of panic, the moments (probably milliseconds) of being tumbled underwater, not knowing which way was up, not knowing if my head would smash against the sand, not knowing if I had enough breath to find the surface. Then my feet found a purchase, my head found air, and it was over. Nobody else even knew. But all these decades later, I still don’t trust the playful little waves off an ocean beach.
I wouldn't either!