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Dan Brodsky-Chenfeld - Above All Else

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Dan Brodsky-Chenfeld Above All Else

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ABOVEALL
ELSE

ABOVEALL
ELSE

A World Champion Skydiver's

Story of Survival and What It Taught

Him About Fear, Adversity, and

Success

Dan Brodsky-Chenfeld

Picture 1

SKYHORSE PUBLISHING

Copyright 2011 by Dan Brodsky-Chenfeld

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

Skyhorse Publishing books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or

Skyhorse and Skyhorse Publishing are registered trademarks of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc., a Delaware corporation.

www.skyhorsepublishing.com

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

ISBN: 978-1-61608-446-2

Printed in the United States of America

For Kristi, Chloe, and Landen

Special thanks to Mary Pat Avery, Chris Shaw, and Igor Sitnikov

Contents

PART I

ABOVE ALL ELSE

Waking Up

S OMETHING WAS WRONG. I was groggy, fading in and out. My body felt tired, weighted down. What was going on?

I tried to see but my eyelids were too heavy to lift. I summoned all the strength I could but still didnt have the power to peel them open.

The last thing I could recall was training with my new skydiving team, Airmoves. After nine years of competition, much of which was spent living in my van and eating out of a cooler so that I could afford team training, the owners of the Perris Valley Skydiving Center in California had presented me with a team sponsorship opportunity. I would get to pick and run the team. They would cover the training costs.

This was it, the opportunity I had always hoped for. Since money wasnt an issue, I was able to pick the teammates I most wanted. The first person I called was James Layne. I had known James since he was eleven and had taught him to jump when he was only fourteen. His whole family had worked at my drop zone in Ohio.

James was like a little brother to me. Even before his very first jump seven years earlier, we had decided that someday we were going to win the national and world championships together. This was our chance, a dream come true.

Troy Widgery was next on my list. Troy was a young entrepreneur and good friend whom I had coached when he was on the University of Colorado Skydiving Team. At the collegiate national championships a year earlier, I had told James and Troy that somehow, someday, I was going to get them both on my team.

Richard Stuart had been the camera flyer on my previous team, the Fource. But like me, Richard still just hadnt had enough of team training and competition.

To fill the one remaining position, I held tryouts. Tom Falzone outperformed the rest and completed the team lineup. Perris Airmoves was born.

We were five months into our training and had made about 350 practice jumps. Everything was going better than I had ever imagined, and I have quite an imagination. We were improving at an unheard-of pace and had already gone head-to-head with some of the top teams in the country. The U.S. Nationals gold medal was in our sights.

And then...

The crust on my eyelashes glued them shut. Using the muscles in my forehead, I finally pried them open a crack. A faint white light was all I could see, like I was inside of a cloud. It was silent. Where was I waking up? Was I waking up? Was I dead?

I had no idea what was happening, how I got here, or what was going on. But I did have one absolutely vivid image in my head, a crystal clear picture of something that seemed to have happened just moments before waking up. It wasnt a dream. It was as real as any real-world experience I had ever had. I could remember the entire thing, every action, every word, and every thought.

It went like this: I was in free fall. Almost as if I had just appeared there. I love free fall, and finding myself there at that moment seemed natural. I was at home, at peace, part of the infinite sky.

But after a few seconds I noticed that this wasnt normal free fall. It was quieter. The wind wasnt blowing as fast. I wasnt descending. A gentle breeze was suspending me. It was okay, it was fine. I was floating, flying, but it wasnt right. What was I doing there? I wasnt afraid. I felt safe, but confused.

I looked up and saw James flying down to me just as if we were on a skydive together and he was swooping me. His expression was that silly, playful smile he so often had in free fall. He was obviously not confused at all. He knew exactly where he was and what he was doing there.

He flew down and stopped in front of me. Still with a smile on his face, he asked, Danny, what are you doing here?

I answered, I dont know.

James said, Youre not supposed to be here, you have to get back down there. I began to get a grasp of the situation.

I asked him, Are you coming with me?

His expression changed to one with a hint of sadness. He said, No, I cant.

I tried to persuade him to change his mind, Cmon, James, we were just getting started. You gotta come with me.

James raised his voice, interrupting me. I cant! It was obvious that the decision was final. It seemed as if it wasnt his decision. He continued with a gentle smile. I cant, but its okay. There are more places to go, more things to do, more fun to have. Tell my mom its okay. Tell her Im okay.

For a few seconds we just looked at each other as I accepted this for the reality it was. He changed his tone and spoke with some authority as he gave me an order. Now, he said, you need to get back down there. You need to go get control of the situation. I unquestioningly accepted this as well, still not knowing what the situation was that he was referring to.

James stuck out his hand palm down, the way we always did when practicing our team count, our ready, set, go cadence we would use to synchronize our exit timing. A couple of minutes before exiting the plane on a training jump, we would always huddle up and practice this count. The purpose was as much to get psyched up for the jump as to rehearse the cadence. I put my hand on top of his. He put his other hand on top of mine. I put my other hand on top of his. We looked each other in the eyes. Both of us with gentle smiles of love and confidence and sadness. James started the count. Ready. I joined in as we finished it together. Set. Go. As was our routine, we clapped and then popped our hands together, locking them in a long, strong, brotherly grasp.

James had one more thing to say, and he said it with absolute certainty, Ill see you later. It was clearly not a good-bye. I had no doubt that we would see each other again. Before I had even thought about an answer, the words I know came out of my mouth.

Slowly I started to descend. As I did, James began to fade from my grip. The wind picked up as I was now falling through it, no longer suspended by it. Everything went black.

As I woke, Jamess words, Get control of the situation, still rang clearly in my mind. If only I knew what the situation was.

I knew I wasnt dead. I squinted, trying to see more clearly. The white light slowly brightened. A few small red and green lights came into view. As if coming from a distance, faint electrical beeping sounds began to reverberate from the silence.

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