Hello everybody,

Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Dan Rossi.  For those of you
that don't know me, (pretty much all of you), I made my first jump
a little over nine years ago.  I have made about 160 jumps since
then.  Nothing to interesting there except that I have been totally
blind for the last 18 years.  I am usually quite low-key about my
participation in the sport, (except for a very obnoxious post a few
years ago about getting a blind four-way team together), and I
pretty much vowed to never post any of my incidents directly to
rec.skydiving.  However, I recently wrote a letter, to a friend,
which contained the description of my latest encounter.  It turned
out to be rather humorous so I figured what the hell, maybe other
jumpers will get a laugh or two.  Well, here goes.  I hope you
enjoy reading this.

It was just another boogie.  The cessna-411 came in and started
flying jumpers.  I kicked around the DZ being bored because
everyone was getting on big dives and I couldn't put together
enough good jumpers to get off the ground.  I sat around listening
to dirt-dives and b-s-ing with everybody.  One thing I noticed was
that I was always hearing canopy opening without hearing the
cessna-411 go over, (OOOO, foreshadowing).  I eventually got so
bored that when a call came that there was one slot left on the
411, I yelled, "hey! put me on it to 6 5".  I had had bad
experiences before during boogies so I knew I would have to be
careful.  I would just ride up to 6,500 and hop out and do twenty
seconds of free-style and dump, (dramatic theme music begins here).
I went up to manifest and asked for a couple of radios.  Back down
to the packing area to rig up.  Take my shirt off and put on my $35
radio harness which I had made due to the fact that I lost a radio
once while hanging up-side-down off the wing of a cessna.  Turn on
the radios.  Check the radios several times.  Throw my shirt on, my
gear on, set my dytters.

"Hey Gary, keep an eye on Mike for me.  I am going up on the next
lift to 6,500".

"OK Dan, have a good one".

"Jill, I'm going up to 65 keep an eye on mike for me".

"OK Dan, what's it worth to ya?".

"ho ho"

"Dan, who is spotting for you?"

"I think they said xxxxxxx".

"Better check it out".

"Who the hell is spotting for me".

"I am".

"Great, don't fuck up".

"Don can you be back-up radio if Mike can't make it"?

"Sorry Dan, got a student.  Get Bobbo".

On the way out to the plane....

"Hi Dan,"

"Hey Mary Kay.  I'm going up -  keep an eye on Mike".  "Jill and Gary
already know so keep an eye on them too".  "Hey tell Bobbo to be
backup for Mike".  "Hey Gary and Jill - I'm going now".  "Is Bobbo
around?" "I'm going now, I'm going up now, I'm getting ready to
leave now, don't forget me, I'm going to 6.5 don't forget"

OK, OK, I think we have the picture.  I was very thorough in setting
up my ground people.

Out to the plane we go......CRACK!!!!

"Watch out for the wing Dan".

It's a good thing I keep my face in front of my brain or I could
have gotten hurt there.  As usual I go over everything in my head
to make sure every thing is taken care of before I get in the
plane.  I try to look for any signs of impending problems.  I guess
I missed The earth trembling and the voice like the sound of
thunder saying, "DON'T GO DAN. PEOPLE ON THE GROUND HAVE MISSED
EVERY EXIT BECAUSE THE PLANE IS TOO QUIET.  THE GUY SPOTTING FOR
YOU ISN'T VERY EXPERIENCED.  IT'S A BOOGY AND EVERYBODY ON THE
GROUND IS BUSY INCLUDING YOUR RADIO MAN."
Not noticing anything wrong I blissfully hopped onto the plane.

Take off, climb, climb, wow! this plane is really quiet and
comfortable.

"We're at three grand Dan".

check my dytters.  Great, they're both going off right around
3,500.

"OK Dan, we're turning onto jump-run"

spot, spot, spot, spot, cut.

Hey! I don't think I heard a cut there.  Well, out the door I go.
WOOOOOO!!!!!!! 150mph in my face...on my back....in my face.
Backloop, backloop, fronloop, daffy, ah return to face down and
stop spinning, spin like crazy to the left, spin like crazy to the
right, backloop, dump.

Return of the dramatic music.

Reach up, release my breaks.  Ok Mike, anytime now.

"Dave, I want you to do a 90 left"

Damn he is talking to a student.
...still talking to a student.
...still talking to a student.
...still talking to a student.

Damn, he hasn't said anything to me yet.  Maybe he thinks I am one
of the students because one of them doesn't seem to be responding.

"Jim, 90 left, 90 left 90 left Jim 90 left"

Oh maybe he thinks I am Jim....90 left

"OK Jim that's better".

Let me make sure he thinks I am Jim.

"Jim, 90 left".

Oh, the test.....90 right.

"OK Jim that's perfect"

Oh SHIT! I'm not jim.  He doesn't know I'm up here.  I've been
flying off into never-never-land while Dave and Jim are heading
comfortably back to the DZ.  Where the hell are all my back-ups?
OK, OK, slow right turn.  Feat and knees together.  Hang on there,
about another 90 seconds.  Level out, quarter breaks,

Dramatic music really revving up now.

You know, I learned that there are three good indications that you
are about to land in trees.  First, you hit all this major
turbulence.  I mean some serious turbulence.  The kind when you're
in three quarter breaks and the mother is still throwing you around
like a rag.  Secondly, you hear this sound.  It is actually a very
pleasant sound.  It reminds one of warm summer breezes and blue
skies.  That is... until you realize that that sound is your feet
dragging through the branches of the shorter trees on your approach
to the huge tree that you will inevitably land in.  Third, and most
dramatic, is the branches smashing across your face and chest as
your canopy tries its damndest to drag you through that tree and
into the clearing on the other side.

OK, I'm in a tree.  Damn! I bet those bastards are going to make me
buy a case for this.  OK, no broken bones or spurting blood so I am
in good shape.  Mike was talking to students the entire time I was
under canopy just until I went into the trees.  I can only assume
that no one saw me fly off into the wild blue.  Maybe I should do
something.  Climb down? hmm there must be ground down there
somewhere, but just how far away is it?  Hell, I could be six
inches off the ground and just hanging here happily.  OK, it's
obvious they don't know where I am and I'll be damned if I am just
going to hang here.  Pull over to the trunk, grab the cut-away,
hold onto the tree and pull.  OK, now we are sitting in a tree
instead of hanging in it, (not much of an improvement). Put the
cut-away in my teeth climb climb climb.... climb..... climb
climb... maybe this was a bad idea, hug that tree like it was
Michele Phiffer.  Little did I know at this point that I was *now* six
inches off the ground.  Time to climb again.  Hoh, that last six
inches were the scariest for a second.

Well, now I'm on the ground.  Luckily I was happened upon by a pack
of wolves who took me in and raised me as their own.  Oh, wait a
minute --  different story.  Well,  what now?  I have
absolutely no idea of where the hell I am.  What's that sound?
Aha, a small plane coming over at tree-top level, they're out
looking for me at least.

And now what is this new sound?  Ah the tinkling of a female voice.
This must be my angel of mercy coming  for me now with such words as,
"Oh my, you are hurt and lost let me  take you back to my place and
comfort your wounds with my kisses."

"Hey! what the hell are you doing in my yard"?

Hmmm, that's not what she was supposed to say.

Actually, the lady who did happen across me was very nice although
somewhat surprised to stumble across a strange man wearing some
funky black and gold harness lurking in the trees in her yard.

"Ah, I see you've got a little problem".

"Ah, yeah, but actually I have another little problem.  I'm totally
blind".

"Excuse me?"

"Um, like I said, I'm blind I just landed in a tree over here, can you
show me to a phone or a road.

Well, she took me back to her house and introduced me to her brother.

"Hey, this guy just landed in a tree and he's blind".

Great introduction.

Call the DZ.

"Hello, Cleveland Sport Parachute Center".

"Ester?"

"Yes"

"I am gonna kill everyone on the drop zone".

"Oh???"

"Ester, It's Dan!"

"Oooh! here it's him".

"Dan, you're alive?"

"Hi Dave, where the hell were you guys?"

"Sorry Dan, We're out looking for you now.  Where are you?"

"I have absolutely no idea.  Here talk to the nice people that
found me".

Well, that pretty much is the whole story.  My friends came and
picked me up.  I got grounded for a while.  And then later got my
jump status back when I promised to jump with an air-horn and
promised not to jump at boogies anymore.

Is there a lesson to be learned here?  Yeah, "shit happens."  This
was the third time I landed without radios and about the tenth time
I landed off the DZ.  No matter what safety precautions I put in
place this kind of crap is always going to slip through, but I
think it is more than worth the risk.

Hope you enjoyed my little story.

Flare when you hear the crickets.
Dan Rossi B14030