The first thought is, ‘I’m falling through the sky and there’s something wrong -- drastically wrong ... God, I’m gonna die!’
National Post
National Post writer Allen Abel recently talked to 12 Canadians who have undergone incredible experiences -- some thrilling, some frightening, some wonderful, all of them memorable. The series What It Feels Like begins with Carol Murray, 27, describing in her own words how it felt when she jumped out of a plane and her parachute didn’t open. Ms. Murray, of Toronto, works in the University Advancement Office at Ryerson Polytechnic University. Her parachuting accident occurred in September, 1997, at Bradford, Ontario.
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Skydiving was just an idea that came up many times with me and Ian. We had been really good friends back home in Nova Scotia for 10 years, and then I moved to Toronto and Ian moved to Toronto and we started dating. And we’d talk about skydiving and we’d say, “Yeah, someday we’re going to go do it.”
It all really started at Canada’s Wonderland -- like, I’m a total junkie for that place. They have this ride called Drop Zone, and Ian and I were at Wonderland and we went to Drop Zone and we said, “Imagine what it would be like to really do it, like, jump out of a real plane,” and that’s what pushed us over the edge.
I was the instigator. I was the one who did the planning. I picked the place out of the Yellow Pages. The ads said, “Jump Same Day.” I called a few and we picked one and we went.
It was a Saturday in September, 1997, the day of Princess Diana’s funeral. I remember listening to it on the radio as we were driving up there.
So we get there and the course begins, and we’re in this little stuffy trailer and Ian’s really, really tired, and the instructor says to him, “If you don’t wake up, you’re not going.” And this happened a couple of times. If I was a superstitious person, I would have taken that as a sign and I wouldn’t have went.
But then we went outside and we saw other people jumping out of the plane and it was so exciting, watching other people’s faces as they came down.
It was really, really cloudy, and then it started raining and it rained and rained and rained. Finally, they said, “Let’s go,” and they could only take six students at a time, and Ian and I let everybody else go ahead of us, just being polite.
Then, finally, Ian and I were in the plane and we had our parachutes on and they said it was too dark and we’d have to come back the next day.
That night, we slept very fitfully, maybe only about three hours. We were really nervous, but we were really excited and we didn’t want to wait ‘til the next weekend, so we went back up there on Sunday, even though it was Ian’s birthday and we had to be back by 4 p.m. for all these people who were coming over.
So we went to the plane, and it was so small -- we were all crouched up in a ball, like in the fetal position, with your knees scrunched up against your chest right close, and while we’re scrunched over like that, they said that the clouds were too low and we couldn’t get enough altitude, so now we have to land in this crazy plane with seat belts that were like from bumper cars.
In the van going back to the trailer, I thought, “This is a sign from God that I shouldn’t do it.” But the instructor said this sort of thing happens all the time, it’s a waiting game.
So we left and went shopping and we went to the Nike Store and I bought a T-shirt and some early Christmas presents, because they were on sale, and we ate at Harvey’s. Then we went back, and they told us they’d make another attempt at 4 p.m.
It’s funny, through all of this Ian and I were very close but now we were quiet with each other, each with our own thoughts.
I was thinking, “Am I crazy? I must be crazy! Do these people know what they’re doing? Are they pushing too hard against the weather? They seem to be pushing too fast. Are they pushing us too fast?”
I don’t remember being in the plane, only the feeling of my legs blowing in the wind when we were sitting on the edge, waiting to jump. It was really, really, really windy, and I remember the wind.
We were supposed to do this counting -- “one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand, check chute, go!” I know I didn’t do all that counting. I must’ve just pushed and gone.
The next thing I remember -- you have these straps that go up from your shoulders to the parachute, and I remember looking at the straps and thinking, “Oh my God, there’s something wrong!”
The first thought is, “I’m falling through the sky and there’s something wrong -- drastically wrong -- oh, f---, God, I’m gonna die!”
I felt like a leaf that was blowing through the sky. I flipped right over, like a leaf in a hurricane, more windy than I ever felt before. I don’t remember seeing anything, only feeling the wind. It was the wind that I remember.
While this is happening, you wear a radio -- one way, so you can’t talk to him, but there’s an instructor on the ground. There’s a thing they teach you -- “Look, thumb, pull” -- to make the reserve chute come out, you’re supposed to look over your shoulder, reach up with your thumb, and pull this ring to release the reserve chute. And he was yelling, “Look! Thumb! Pull! Look! Thumb! Pull!” over and over and I was screaming, “It’s not working! Help me! Help me!” That’s the thing I remember the most, him yelling, “Look! Thumb! Pull!”
Then I thought I fainted. I felt my whole body relax. I felt I was gonna die. I thought I just fainted. But later they told me that I was screaming all the way down.
There was someone on the ground taking a video, and I have the tape, and you can see that the reserve chute came out but it got tangled with the first one and they both collapsed. You can see that happen, but they turned the camera off when I really started to go down fast. They said I was going 90 kilometres an hour when I hit the ground.
I don’t remember this part, but I landed in somebody’s front yard. I missed the porch by about three feet and a cement pad by about three feet. My feet went six inches into the ground, but I only broke my femurs, not my feet. My running shoes must have protected them -- my favourite black Reeboks. I would have kept them, but they had to cut them to get them off me. Global TV took me back up there last year to see if the holes in the yard were still there. But the lady who owned the place when I had my accident had passed away, and the new owner had just filled them in.
The next thing I remember is waking up in the ICU and my sister Lila was there and I was confused and my sister was crying and she said, “Carol, it’s a miracle. You’re alive!’
My first thought was, “Oh, yeah, the parachute.”
Then I had the most amazing feeling come over me. To this day, I don’t care what anybody says, I know it was an angel or something spiritual, but it was there, and I felt it right from my toes all the way up my body, it went “Whoosh!” right up my body.
I said, “Am I all right and am I gonna live?” And they said yes.
I said, “Am I gonna be able to have babies?” And they said, “Well, you might have to have a C-section, though, ‘cause you broke your pelvis.”
And I asked, “Am I gonna be able to walk?” and they said yes.
I had never had an operation before. I had never been in the hospital before. I never even had stitches. I was totally unprepared. I’ve had 22 operations on my legs.
The trauma was more traumatic than the accident. I’ll never forget my orthopedic surgeon. If I break a toe, I’m going to find him. I think I’m done now, but one leg is still two centimetres shorter than the other. I had a wheelchair for two years, then a walker for six months, then crutches, then a cane. Now, nothing. I worried that I might not be able to ride a bike again, because my knee didn’t flex right, but now I can.
And I’m back in aerobics. Not just aerobics, step aerobics! I put on 70 pounds, and I’ve only lost 10 of them so far. But I’ll get there.
When I was on the Jenny Jones show, they had one girl who was scalped -- she got her hair caught in some machine and it ripped her scalp right off. And there was a girl who was attacked by pit bulls for an hour and a half, and someone whose brother donated a kidney for a transplant or something, and someone who was on a motorbike and some drunken driver hit them and a wrench or something went right through his chest.
But I was the one, that when they heard my story, they all said, “Holy f---!”
I’ve only dreamed about it once, and it was in the last six months. In my dream, I’m at the SkyDome or some dome or something, and you know how Labatt’s has those ads, “Out of the Blue?” Well, something like that is going on and they grab people out of the blue and they tell them that they can go parachuting down from the top of the dome and they ask for volunteers. And in my dream, I volunteer, but just to stop the other people from doing it, ‘cause they don’t teach you right.
That’s the only thing I’m bitter about. It’s a totally unregulated business, and I didn’t know that before we went.
When you’re parachuting, you have these toggles, and you’re supposed to pull on them and that’s how you steer, but if your chute doesn’t release and you pull on them anyway, your backup chute won’t work, and they never taught us that.
I’m a positive person, just like I always was. I don’t go around saying “I’m a victim” or anything. In some ways, it was almost a good thing. It made my life sort of something different, sort of unique. I’d like to do public speaking about this, maybe to kids in schools.
Ian and I didn’t stay together. After the accident, whoever he’d talk to, they wouldn’t ask him “How are you?” It was always “How’s Carol?” But I still love going to Wonderland. I wanted to face my fear, and I didn’t have any flashbacks.
I haven’t tried skydiving. But sometimes, I still wonder what it would be like to do it successfully. But not enough to do it again. I’ll never do it again.
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