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Returning From Adversity By Angelo Chirico I’ve always been fascinated with flying ever since I was a young boy. My hobbies consisted of building kites, rockets, gliders, parachutes and planes. When I turned 16, instead of looking at my first car, I opted to buy a hang glider. That was the first taste of flying I got, and boy was it sweet. I spent more than my share of time with my head in the clouds, gazing up to the sky and always dreaming of flying. Then I discovered powered paragliding. What a wonderful concept: an ultralight that folds into the trunk of a car, sets up in 10 minutes, is easy to maintain and very affordable. Most importantly though, it could get me in the air! And so I purchased one immediately. For 3 years I flew the countryside of Connecticut, Cape Cod, Canada, and Florida. It was a dream come true to experience powered flight in its simplest form. It was like “dreaming with your eyes open”. Then on a beautiful October morning as I readied for another flight, I had a serious accident that sent me to the hospital. Though I would make a full recovery and was making plans to fly again, I could see that my decision to fly was causing a major problem with my family. Realizing this scenario, I decided that it could be possible for me to give up the sport that I loved so much. After all, I had flown for a long time. I had flown in many different conditions and at so many different locations; I was sure I just walk away. I even believed that it was better to have flown and lost, than to never have flown at all, so I thought. The months following my accident went by fast and I had very little thought of flying. It was winter now, the holidays were past us and spring time was just ahead. It was around that time that I started to think of those bright and sunny flights from the previous year. Spring time would have been a time to revisit flying sites, dust off the cob webs, polish the equipment and plan a season of glorious flying. This is when it really started to bother me. I took up hiking to fill my non-flying time. Though I loved hiking, I never could enjoy the view because it only painfully reminded me that I used to share this space during a different time and in a very different way when I flew my glider. Looking down from the mountain top only increased my sadness, as did my treks through the mild breezes of an early summer evening. After all, those were my favorite times to fly. I began to further punish myself by logging onto the numerous PPG websites, looking at the pictures, reading the stories and agonizing over the fact that I would never fly again. I began to look at the hundreds of images captured on my digital camera, all of them showing the beautiful earth below, and one very happy pilot. I secretly looked at my flying videos, watching the same flight over and over hearing me yell “how wonderful this sport is” and how it was simply “awesome”. I even kept in contact with old flying buddies through phone and e-mail and talked about their recent flying experiences. Instead of enjoying their stories like I used to in the past, all it did was leave me empty, bitter and more depressed. The girls then said that it looked like a “cool thing” to do. I spoke up and said it was, and that I use to do something like that only without the wheels. They started asking me the usual questions and I was so eager to answer them. I told them how it flew, how high I went and what it felt like. I told them that it was the single most incredible thing I had ever done. We all watched as he flew toward the setting sun. I am not sure how long I talked to them, but it was definitely long enough for my wife to notice an excitement in my voice that she had not heard since my accident a year earlier. On the way down the mountain I was quiet. My wife spoke up and told me that I should consider flying again. She said that no one should have the right to tell anyone else that they can’t have their passion in life, their dream. Now I know the Lord works in mysterious ways, but was I hearing what I thought I was hearing? “Thank you again, for answering my prayers!” I thought. As I sat in the car, it was dark by now. The realization that my days of being earth bound were numbered and those horrible days of wishing I could fly would soon be a thing of the past. I knew I was going to fly again. It was at that moment it hit me, and that’s when my eyes filled up with tears. I began to make arrangements to get reacquainted with the sport the next day. I bought a new unit, spent some quality time with an instructor, and soon I was flying again. I’ll never forget my “second” first flight. The warm sun and air in my face was the feeling I had missed for so long. I was “dreaming with my eyes open” again, a real dream come true!. When you lose something you really love, it’s a difficult and painful experience. But if you are fortunate enough to get it back, it is nothing short of pure joy. Back in Connecticut I took to the skies, flying my old sites. Every thing was exactly the way I had left it a year ago. I have had several flights since, and I appreciate each and every one of them. Flying is truly a gift. My wife is happy for me too, and encourages me to fly whenever I can. One thing is for certain, I’ll never take the time I spend flying for granted. If you have had an incident that has kept you away from the sport, it is important to do the following. First, know exactly what caused the incident. Then, make all necessary corrections or modifications needed to prevent a recurrence. And lastly and most important, don’t hesitate. Get back in the air as soon as possible! Take care for now and may all your flights be nothing short of pure joy. As for me, I have a lot of flying to catch up on. |
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| On the Mountain Then on a warm summer afternoon, my wife and I were hiking a mountain in Connecticut. Suddenly, while at the top, I heard a familiar sound. It was a powered parachute and he was flying toward us. At that moment, there were two young girls who had also summited with us. We all watched in awe as he flew through the deep blue summer sky, sporting his beautiful rainbow sail. I waved to him and he graciously acknowledged me by doing many slow and low flyovers. I took several pictures. I could hardly contain my excitement. |
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