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In the last year of his life, my dad talked a lot about parachuting, something he had done as a young man. He told us repeatedly, “I just want to do one last jump.”

We weren’t exactly sure how many jumps he had done in his lifetime, as the number seemed to grow over the years, and at last count, he was up to 100.

However, since my dad was also a writer, and we all know writers tend to be a wee bit “fabricatey,” who really knew?

He did most of his skydiving back in the late 50’s and early 60’s.

He first jumped in Fairbanks, Alaska, where he became a member of the “Midnight Sun Sky Divers.” He then moved on to Mexico City, where he co-founded “Los Voladores de Mexico,” Mexico’s first sport parachute club. Not only was he jumping, he was performing for crowds, and even doing acrobatic maneuvers as he free-fell from 10,000 feet.

If I’m free-falling from 10,000 feet, the only maneuver I’m going to attempt is the “Hey, look, I didn’t soil myself!” one.

In Mexico, he made several jumps, some of which were filmed for a Coca-Cola commercial.

This was confirmed by an article in the local paper.

Of course, my dad also wrote the article.

He returned to Alaska to continue jumping and later he moved back to the east coast, where he made his last jump at Adams Air Park in New Jersey.

Soon after, he embarked on other adventures, such as writing and acting. He then met my mom, got a “real” job, and started a family.

But he never lost his love of skydiving, and even kept his original parachute, which he brought out one blustery day in the winter of 2004.

Our whole family gathered at our local park, where my dad laid out the huge red-and-white-striped chute on the grassy field.

“Does it really work?” I asked.

“Of course it works,” my dad answered.

To prove his point, he buckled in his then 6-year-old granddaughter, Parker, adjusted the straps, and gave us a big thumbs up.

We then ran across the field, the heavy chute dragging on the grass behind Parker.

It was highly disappointing.

 Until a huge gust of wind filled the chute, raising it into the air.

We all cheered, elated as the chute lifted skyward.

However, the elation was short-lived as little Parker also lifted skyward.

You know the scene in Up, with the balloons tied to the old man’s house?

Yeah, like that.

Fortunately, we were all right there to pull her down to safety.

You’re welcome, Parker.

After unbuckling her, my dad said, “I told you it works.”

Earlier this summer, our family spent some time at Rincon Beach. My dad sat on a bench, watching the paragliders take off from a nearby cliff.

Just the sight of an open chute soaring through the air brought a huge smile to his face.

“I just want to do one last jump,” he said.

Why not? 

Steve and I went home that night and looked up local skydiving schools. One had an advertisement that read, “Come Jump With Us! Ages 18 – 88!”

Seeing as my dad was 88, we took that as a sign.

However, my mom saying, “Absolutely not!” was also a sign.

Regardless, he was convinced that he was going to do one last jump.

My dad, Don Gordon (aka Alvin) went to Heaven on July 31, 2024.

A few days after he passed away, my mom gave me his scrapbook and parachute log.

It was then that I finally grasped, through the articles and the pictures, the magnitude of his love for skydiving.

I also discovered, through the log, that he had officially completed 25 jumps.

“I’m gonna free fall out into nothin,’

Gonna leave this world for a while.” 

Make that 26.