Anyway, it's September now. It's been September for about a week. I've moved into my cozy, humid dorm, made a whole bunch of new friends, and I'm prepared for a fresh new start. So, I've decided to share something very special with all four of the people who read this blog. I've decided to share one of my earlier pieces, written about half a year ago. It's a story that I haven't seen made into a major motion picture, and a story that is dearly special to me. No, this isn't a story about me. It's the story of a man who just wanted to fly.
Look Carol! I Can Fly!
Poor Larry never made it into the air force. As a child, he hoped and dreamed that he could earn a pilot’s license and take to the skies in a jet-powered freedom-machine. Due to Larry’s poor eyesight, he learned early on that his dreams didn’t always come true. As Larry grew up into a broken young adult, he refused to let his dream die. Larry wanted to fly. He was able to land a job as a truck driver, but damn it, Larry wanted to fly.
A foolhardy idea stuck with Larry for close to 20 years. He planned and fantasized about the idea. How many balloons would it take? How much would it cost? How would he pilot the machine? Would he bring anything with him on the trip? What was his exit strategy? Larry thought long and hard, but through some crude math, Larry managed to complete a rough sketch of his dream.
He openly conversed with his friends, and girlfriend, Carol Van Deusen about the idea. Surprisingly, they agreed to help. Eventually, Larry and Carol bought 45 helium weather balloons and the helium to fill them. Larry’s plan was going to work, he thought. It had to.
On July 2nd, 1982, Larry and his friends gathered in his backyard. His plan was to fly eastward, soaring over Los Angeles in his homemade flying machine, a Sears lawn chair he named Inspiration I. The crew tethered the chair to Larry’s Jeep, and began preparations for Larry’s flight. There was no turning back, and no shortage of Miller Lite that hot July morning.
Larry’s plan was simple, but ingenious. 45 helium weather balloons to bring him into the skies, holding more than 30 cubic feet of helium each, eight gallons of water for counter-weight, a sandwich, some beef jerky, and beer for life support, a Citizen’s Band radio for contacting his friends, a camera to record his flight, and a cheap pellet gun for landing gear. In case if Larry couldn’t get down fast enough, he would shoot the balloons with the pellet gun, and he would descend back down to earth as a hero and pioneer of air travel. As the story goes, life loves to throw curve-balls.
Larry’s friends were ready to launch him into the sky. Carol was in tears, mortified about the possibility of Larry never making it down in one piece. “Larry, Larry! Are you sure you want to do this?” Carol sobbed. “Buddy, are you sure that this is worth it?” one of his friends asked. Larry assured that 20 years of planning, and the cost of all the equipment would be worth the trip. Larry was set, his flying machine was assembled, and his crew were ready to launch him into the wild blue yonder. At least, that was the plan.
As it turns out, the curveball that life threw at Larry was his own miscalculation. He grossly underestimated how powerful and how high a weather balloon could fly. He planned on floating about 30 feet into the air, where he could safely pilot his flying machine above Los Angeles, where onlookers could see him and wave at their new hero. That wasn’t the case. Weather balloons, let alone many weather balloons, are incredibly powerful, as Larry and his friends found out that hot July day.
For reference, a single run of the mill weather balloon has enough lift to reach miles and miles into the sky. Since helium is much lighter than air, weather balloons are absolutely perfect for bringing up equipment many miles into the sky to scan for weather patterns, as the name implies. Larry’s lawn chair was attached to 45 of them. Even with the water counterweights, Larry’s own weight, and his life support, Larry shot up into the sky like a rocket. Sometimes, crude math doesn’t cut it. Within minutes, Larry was in the sky. His friends lost sight of him. Carol now had a very good reason to be mortified. Her boyfriend was now on his own.
Thanks to the high wind speed and sheer lift power of his flying machine, Larry was now in restricted air space. Not exactly ideal when you don't want to be in A pilot flying a commercial flight saw Larry’s machine. He looked over at the 10 o’clock position (Slightly to the left) and saw a mass of balloons carrying a man in a chair. Even though the plane was beginning to land, both Larry and the plane were almost 7000 feet in the air, more than a mile above the ground. Now, there was absolutely no turning back. Larry contacted REACT, a CB organization.
“What information do you wish me to tell [the airport] at this time as to your location and your difficulty?”
“Ah, the difficulty is, ah, this was an unauthorized balloon launch, and, uh, I know I'm in a federal airspace, and, uh, I'm sure my ground crew has alerted the proper authority. But, uh, just call them and tell them I'm okay.”
As it turns out, Larry was in... a lot of danger. More specifically, he was heading towards the approach area of the Los Angeles airport, where planes were landing. If Larry drifted close enough to that space, it would have costed him his life. To make matters worse, by then, Larry had reached 16,000 feet, which is more than 3 miles above ground. At above 10,000 feet, there is very little oxygen to breathe, and the air is stinging cold, almost below freezing. Larry had to get down, and fast. Thankfully, he still had his pellet gun.
Larry aimed the pellet gun, his only hope, at the weather balloons, and began to fire up at them, popping them one by one. This presented yet another problem: If Larry shot too many balloons, he would fall from the sky, and would have ended up as "Larry the Human Pile of Blood and Viscera". Too few balloons, and Larry would have perished due to the elements, freezing to death or suffocating in the thin, chilly air. After clumsily, desperately firing his seventh shot, Larry accidently dropped his pellet gun. His fingers, at that point, were shaking and numb. In hindsight, Larry should have brought two pellet guns. Or perhaps a pair of gloves. He was on a budget, after all.
Now, Larry’s life was in the hands of Lady Luck. As it turned out, Lady Luck was very kind to him that day. Larry popped the correct amount of balloons that would allow him him to descend in the safest way possible. Unfortunately, the safest way wasn’t quite safe. Larry was still falling fast, soaring through the sky as fast as the four winds would take him. Or as fast as they wanted to. Seldom to the four winds show compassion to the likes of mortal men. The four winds and Lady Luck have drastically contrasting opinions about mortals, it seems.
Larry quickly descended thousands of feet, near Los Angeles. Again, by sheer luck, his friends were there to catch him, driving an old pickup truck.The long cords that held the balloons to the chair ended up snagging the craft to a few power lines, which had now caused a short blackout. Larry had finally returned to earth, safely. As the sight caused quite a stir, the LAPD also decided to pay a visit, and they were waiting for him. Most of them couldn't believe it. However, being the LAPD during the 80's, they weren't happy.
As it turns out, Larry had broken several laws, not limited to: invasion of restricted airspace, flying without a pilot’s license, and failure to communicate with air traffic control prior to liftoff. A small price to pay for both starting an extreme sport, and living to tell the tale. Had Larry's chair flown into those power lines, his body would have caused the blackout, and there wouldn't be much of Larry to arrest.
Larry did the best he could, and appealed to the courts. His lawyer proclaimed that his flying machine technically didn’t qualify as a “civil aircraft” and thus, did not apply to the laws. Larry was instead fined $1,500 for disturbing the peace and causing a blackout. Larry’s dream had taken 20 years, 45 balloons, plenty of helium, and more than a thousand dollars in fines, but despite his poor eyesight, upbringing, and what can be called stupidity, life threw Larry a curveball, but Larry managed to avoid striking out, hitting the ball into the foul zone. From that day forward, he was known as Lawnchair Larry.
No comments:
Post a Comment