Quint Rahaman is over the edge.
Over the edge and 13,000 feet over LaSalle County, falling at more than 100 miles an hour. With the wind gushing in his face, he’s momentarily disoriented.
Head clear, he checks his altimeter, the gauge that tells him his altitude. At 5,000 feet from the ground, he pulls the cord on his parachute, which opens and slows his descent.
“It is the ultimate roller coaster,” Rahaman says moments after completing his first skydive recently. “It was more than I thought it would be.”
Rahaman (formerly of Steger, now of Michigan) learned to take the plunge in just a few hours at Skydive Chicago Inc., based at the Ottawa Airport. Skydive Chicago, which opened in March 1993, last year taught 2,100 first-timers how to skydive and expects to teach 3,000 new skydivers in 1994. Last year, 24,000 jumps were made with Skydive Chicago, and the total jumps this year should “blow away” the 1993 total, says instructor Terry Murray of Evergreen Park.
Skydive Chicago is owned by a group of skydive enthusiasts and investors, said Fred Morelli, an Aurora lawyer who serves as legal counsel for the corporation. He declined to identify the owners.
The group chose the Ottawa Airport because it was the best location available outside O’Hare International Airport’s traffic area but still close to the Chicago area, Morelli said.
“Our real market is the Chicago area,” Morelli said.
Nationally, 140,000 people skydive each year, according to Arleen Richman, communications manager for the Alexandria, Va.-based United States Parachute Association, which has 28,300 members. Richman said only three in 10 people who skydive will repeat the experience.
“It is just a thing people do to say that they did it,” she said.
Skydive Chicago requires skydivers to be at least 18, weigh no more than 250 pounds and sign a waiver releasing legal liability. Students can take a one-hour tandem course or a six-hour static line course.
In tandem jumping, students are attached to their instructor at four points by a harness connected to a parachute built for two. They jump at 13,000 feet and experience what skydivers call “freefall,” which is hurtling from the sky without constraint.
In static jumping, the person is attached to the plane by a line that pulls the rip cord. The person jumps from the plane and the static line deploys the parachute. A ground instructor then guides the student through the descent by communicating via two-radio. The student jumps at 3,000 feet and doesn’t experience freefall.
About 95 percent of Skydive Chicago’s first-time jumpers opt for tandem jumping with a certified instructor, Murray says. Those who have completed three tandem jumps can go solo, says Roger Nelson, program director of Skydive Chicago.
Skydive Chicago charges $169 for one tandem jump on the weekend, $159 on a weekday. The first jump charge for a static line weekend course is $149.
On this day, about 200 to 300 will take the plunge at Skydive Chicago. All but 70 are veteran jumpers, Murray says, adding that many enthusiasts travel from out of state to the airport and camp overnight on its property.
Because it’s a busy day, Murray doesn’t convene the 1:30 p.m. tandem class until about 2:20 p.m. The class includes Rahaman and friends Mike Walsh of Oak Lawn and Christy Christian of Frankfort. Nine friends, mostly from Chicago’s Southwest Side and the southwest suburbs, as well as Hector Mondragon of Chicago’s Northwest Side round out the group.
Rahaman says he wants to jump to relive what he felt a few years ago when a pilot friend put an airplane into a stall for about 30 seconds. Rahaman encouraged Walsh and Christian to try skydiving.
“It is a challenge, a dare,” says Christian, one of three women in the course.
“I just wanted to do it for the experience,” adds Caroline Wilmot of Oak Lawn, who had asked eight friends to try skydiving.
“I have done everything else-I might as well try this,” says Wilmot’s friend Phillip Mahar, who lives in Chicago’s Mt. Greenwood neighborhood.
“It is better than sex,” jokes Dan Griffin, who lives in Chicago’s Beverly neighborhood.
“This is something I have always dreamed of doing,” adds Mondragon.
Murray begins the tandem class by showing a video that warns about the dangers of skydiving.
“We don’t hide that,” Murray says of the possibility of injury and death. “The general rule is what happens to you happens to (the instructors). Do any of you have a death wish?”
Nationwide, 41 people died in skydiving accidents in 1993, said the parachute association’s Richman. Locally, on Sept. 7, 1992, 11 skydivers and their pilot died in a plane crash minutes after takeoff near Hinckley, Ill.
Skydive Chicago has not had a fatality, says Nelson, who adds that the most serious injury to date has been a broken ankle. The school stresses safety from the moment a class enters the training room until the skydivers leave the plane.
“We take our training seriously,” says Nelson, 38, holder of four world skydiving records and several world and national championships. He estimates he has made more than 4,500 jumps in 23 years. Nelson also writes training programs that are sold nationally and internationally in video and written form.
“We have the best instructors. Most of my instructors are world champions,” says Nelson, who oversees 20 to 25 instructors.
About 300 skydiving centers operate in the United States, said Mike Truffer, publisher of Deland, Fla.-based Skydiving Magazine, which is written “for jumpers by jumpers.” But very few of those centers are considered major, he said.
A major center has more than one aircraft, is open most days of the week and year-round, Truffer said. Skydive Chicago has two airplanes, is open from Wednesday to Monday from Memorial Day to Labor Day, with days of operation changing during cooler weather.
The major centers are located near big cities, including Atlanta, Dallas, Los Angeles, Miami and New York, in addition to Chicago. Skydive Chicago ranks in the top 10 to 15 for jump volume among centers in the country, Truffer said.
“The driving force is Roger Nelson,” Truffer said of Skydive Chicago. “He is very dynamic, energetic. He thinks big. He’s determined to see his ideas come to fruition.”
“Training that brings about no change is as effective as a parachute that opens on the first bounce,” reads a sign in the training room.
After Murray’s talk on the hazards of skydiving, everyone in this class agrees to continue. Murray then shows a 30-minute videotape about the jump procedure, stopping the tape every five minutes or so to review the material just covered. He instructs students to arch their backs as soon as possible after they jump. Nelson explains that puts the body in a more aerodynamic position.
To help students become more aware of their altitude on the way up and down, Murray teaches them the “Five-Five” sign. With their fingers spread, the students are to flash their hands to their instructor on the way up, when the plane reaches an altitude of 5,500 feet. When falling, they are to flash the “Five-Five” sign again at 5,500 feet.
Murray ends the lesson with a few do’s and don’t’s. Jumpers should fold their arms and then, if they wish, grab their sleeves. Murray says the school has the students do this for several reasons. Nervous students might grab anything, he said, and by moving their hands around early in the jump, they could pull the handle that would deploy the parachute. Also, the students should fold their arms so they don’t grab their instructor’s arms, Murray says.
Murray, who has parachuted 2,100 times since 1985, concludes with some advice based on experience: “It is going to blow your mind when you jump. Be prepared for it.” He adjourns the class at 3:30 p.m.
To jump or not to jump is a personal decision, Nelson says. He explains that the school shows videotape of all parts of a jump so that students will understand what they’re undertaking, keeping cold feet to a minimum.
“We try to dispel the fear with knowledge,” he says, noting that only two people have changed their minds while in the plane since the school opened.
At about 4:30 p.m., Rahaman, Walsh and Christian-who will be the first to dive-pair up with their instructors. In a hangar that houses the parachuting equipment, students don jump suits over their shirts and shorts. They are issued an altimeter, goggles and a cap. They also are issued a helmet, which Skydive Chicago mandates that students use for their first 50 jumps.
The student and instructor get a tandem parachute, which is a parachute system designed for two people. This rig weighs 40 to 45 pounds and contains two parachutes, each 288 square feet. The Federal Aviation Administration mandates that the parachutes, including those for single jumpers, contain two canopies, a main chute and a reserve.
After suiting up, the students and instructors review the jump procedure as they walk to a runway on the airport’s eastern edge. On this jump, 20 people will go up in one of two turbo prop airplanes that Skydive Chicago uses. Most are experienced jumpers.
First-timers (and others) can have a pictoral souvenir of their jump. Aerial Dynamics Inc., a separate company, pays Skydive Chicago to go along on the jump and offers a videotape or 35 mm photos for $60 each.
Mike Garza, manager of Aerial Dynamics, says the tapes run 16 minutes, which includes 12 minutes of the person’s jump, from suiting up through landing. The other four minutes, at the beginning, are of other people skydiving.
He says 40 percent of the first-timers opt for the tape and 10 to 15 percent of the second- and third-time jumpers who didn’t get it the first time buy the tape.
“Taping these brings me back to when I made my first jump, the emotion and excitement,” Garza says. “No matter how many jumps you make, it will always be your first jump, and that is something you want to remember.”
Most students in the 1:30 class opt for the tape. On Rahaman’s flight, two videographers will tape the moment for him and Christian, jumping before the students to capture every moment.
“I’m very calm,” Rahaman says as a mist falls on the group awaiting their plane. It’s 85 degrees on this day, but skydiving can be done in the rain and in cold weather, too. Winds of 25 miles an hour or more can ground the jumpers, Murray says. Winds from 5 to 15 miles an hour are ideal, Nelson says.
At 5:16 p.m., as the sun breaks through, the plane departs. Jumpers sit in two single-file rows. At 10,000 feet, the skydivers prepare to move to the door from which they will jump. At 12,500 feet, the tandems check their attachments at all four points. The tandem instructor is behind the student.
The plane climbs to 13,000 feet at 5:32 p.m., but has to fly from the west to the east to get over the airport, which is located west of Ottawa, just south of Interstate Highway 80 and north of the Illinois River.
The pilot positions the plane just east of the airport because the breeze is from the east. Skydivers aim for a landing area in the middle of the airport. When the door is opened, a gust whips in, dropping the temperature 20 to 30 degrees. The jumpers move closer to the door.
At 5:36 p.m., the first pair leap.
“I felt this rush of air,” Rahaman later recalls of his jump with instructor Kris Bagwell. “And then you saw everything happening. You saw forever.”
Once in the air, the jumpers drop about the first 1,000 feet in 10 to 11 seconds. After that they pick up speed and fall at 120 miles per hour during freefall. At 5,000 feet, the tandems pull the rip cord, which opens the parachute in two to three seconds.
“When we pulled the chute, it became so peaceful,” Rahaman says. “It got very, very quiet.”
The tandems take five minutes to fall the last 5,000 feet. The skydivers land on their feet, as if they hopped off a step several inches high.
“It was great,” Rahaman says of his jump. “For a split second, you realize you are falling. But after that . . . it’s like you’re flying. It’s fantastic.”
Says Bagwell of Rahaman’s jump, “It was a super dive. It couldn’t have been any better.”
Walsh, Rahaman’s friend, says he felt overwhelmed at first when he jumped. Walsh’s instructor, Ron Nowak, agrees.
“When we jumped out, Mike didn’t know what hit him. I yelled `arch’ and he responded. He had a really good freefall. He forgot to do his Five-Five signal. But when I yelled pull, he knew what to do and did it. A great landing,” Nowak says.
“The initial jump out of the plane was wild. You were waiting for something to grab you. That was the freaky part,” Walsh says.
“It stops your breath. It is unbelievable,” Christian says.
“When you pull your rip cord and the parachute comes out, that is something I don’t think can be explained. You just fly so far up in the air, and I was not expecting that.”
As Rahaman’s group arrives, the friends from Chicago’s Southwest Side suit up. At 6:20 p.m., they board the plane as the wind shifts to the west. About 20 minutes later, they’re jumping.
Mahar is among the first to land.
“It’s the greatest thing in the world,” he says as he gathers up his parachute in a landing zone about 1,500 feet southwest of the hangar.
“It was peaceful. It was so quiet. I’ll be back,” Mahar says before hitching a ride on a golf cart back to the hangar.
As he leaves, the stragglers of his group, including Wilmot, begin landing. Wilmot’s friend Colleen Kelly lands about 300 yards away from the airport in a cornfield north of I-80.
“I saw the airport going farther and farther away,” says Kelly, who lives in the Beverly neighborhood in Chicago. “I was okay. I felt safe.”
Kelly, who was paired with the only tandem woman instructor, D.D. Bartley of Quincy, was told that their light weight, roughly 220 pounds, contributed to the wind blowing them away from the drop zone.
Bartley chose to land north of the interstate for safety reasons, Nelson says. Anytime anyone misses the airport, it is because the instructor chose to land elsewhere for safety reasons, he adds.
“We put safety first,” Nelson says. People landing as far from the airport as Kelly and Bartley did might happen once in several thousand jumps, he says. The school will send a golf cart or truck to get people who land away from the airport.
Wilmot hit the target, the landing zone.
“It was a little scary. I was nervous. But I felt like flying,” she says. “I’m going to keep jumping until I can go by myself.”
All afternoon, when asked about any nervousness, both Wilmot and Christian had said they were calm. But after the jump, Christian also says she was edgy for a bit.
“When we got to the door and were actually getting ready, I wondered what I was doing. But then we were out,” she says.
“I was really afraid when I jumped out of the plane,” Mondragon recalls. “But a few seconds after that, it was a really beautiful, beautiful feeling.”
Despite the cornfield landing, Kelly wants to skydive again.
“It was a blast,” Kelly says. “I don’t know how to describe it.”
