Only three cells of the canopy were partially inflated, while the rest were tangled in the lines. The lines were completely twisted. It was spinning rapidly, and I couldn’t tell whether the canopy was spinning around me or I was spinning around it.

I remembered something terrifying: my new accuracy rig didn’t have an AAD system. Without quick action, I wouldn’t survive.

I realized I was losing altitude fast, so I fought to stay conscious. I acted instinctively, bringing both hands together and cutting away with great effort. As I was spinning at a very high speed, the sensation was intense as if I’d been thrown out of the container. My body accelerated even more in speed, and I struggled against a growing lethargy. 

The reserve handle was out of the lodge. I saw it spinning free in the air. I grabbed the ripcord steel with both hands, pushed my arms forward, fully extended.

Then—silence fell.

I felt my body being held by the reserve parachute.

The relief was beyond words.

I could hardly believe it. The reserve had actually opened. Everything felt surreal, like waking from a nightmare.

I looked down to see which part of the drop zone I was over, but I couldn’t recognize the terrain below. My mind was a blur, and my uncertainty about my condition returned—I felt a strong sense of disorientation. There was no time to feel hopeless or panic; I had one crucial task remaining: landing safely.

The altimeter was upside down. My chest and leg straps from my harness had loosened. I’d lost my goggles and contact lenses. To stay alert, I began doing breathing exercises and keeping my eyes wide open. I was lifting my arms and head when I realized I hadn’t released the reserve brakes.

The reserve parachute started to fly. I felt a cold air hit my face. The breathing exercises helped me feel better. I checked the altimeter.

1,000 feet?!

That couldn’t be right. The ground was already there.

There was no time to assess wind direction. Besides, I’d lost my contact lenses and couldn’t see well at a distance. But none of that mattered anymore.

Whenever I encounter a dangerous situation, I try to calm myself by talking aloud—shouting usually helps.

"BE VERY CAREFUL DURING THE LANDING, MERY ROSE. YOU NEED TO COME OUT OF THIS SITUATION UNSCATHED."

The ground rushed up toward me. I executed a proper landing roll—just like I’d learned as a student.

And then, the landing...

Oh, my goodness...!

How hard is the American desert ground?

How many years has it been since it last rained here?

And I had no choice; there were huge cacti everywhere.

I scraped myself on my arms and legs. Cactus thorns covered my jumpsuit, but adrenaline made it all painless.

 

I scraped myself on my arms and legs. Cactus thorns covered my jumpsuit, but adrenaline made it all painless.

 

I was amazed at how many friends were there, trying to help me up and asking if I was okay. They looked very worried. I returned to the drop zone. One of my friends had already picked up my main parachute.

 

I couldn't sleep well that night. The next morning, I was on the first load. With pain in my arms, I couldn't operate the parachute brakes. I also felt pain all over my body, which made me drop out of the competition and head home. My body asked for bed... and a big bol of ice cream.

 

I tried many times to write what happened to me, but I couldn't. In my frustrated attempts, I felt like crying. Then, I stopped.

 

Then, by phone, I started telling a friend what happened. I honestly said I survived because of experience. Visibly shaken, he asked:

 

“Then what about me? I'm a new skydiver. I have zero experience. Do I just depend on luck?”

 

There are many cases of people who did not manage to cut away in similar situations. I would say that the experience gained over my 31 years of skydiving counts a lot in many factors. For many years, I have been doing mental exercises of the emergency procedures, and those are what led me, even on the brink of unconsciousness, to follow the correct procedures; to cut away even before deploying the emergency parachute. Without the correct sequence of these procedures, the incident is fatal.

 

It is very important that you have experience and know how to act. However, the most important thing is to remember to do it right when you need to.

 

Nobody learns these things in universities, libraries, books, or even from advice from parents and friends. None of these can provide the required experience for these situations. The law of life teaches us that we must live with our own mistakes and failures to learn not to repeat them. I felt this deeply.

 

Today, despite the fright I had, the experience has taught me several things. One of them is that I will never jump without an AAD system, whether in my free-fall rig or my accuracy rig. Another lesson: even though I know I am careful when folding my parachute, I still need to pay even closer attention.

 

Life Lesson

 

In this way, life teaches us that it is through our own mistakes that we reflect and change our actions, making us make wise and secure decisions when necessary. This is called e x p e r i e n c e... and with life experience, it is how we avoid greater unfounded errors. It is by learning from our own mistakes that we reach the highest level in our lives—the accomplishment of the dreams each of us has.

 

IN THIS LIFE, WITH EXPERIENCE, WE GO WHERE WE WANT TO GO, AND WE ARE WHAT WE WANT TO BE.

 

Blue Skies!

 

Mery Rose

U.S. Parachute Team

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