Independence Day weekend, many years ago.

Beth said, “Pack the car and the kids, we’re going on an adventure.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

So I play along. We turn down a side road and into the Perris airport. I see some ultralights and wonder if she’s gone mad. She hates flying.

Then I notice the sign for the sky diving school.

“You’re getting your wish, to jump from an airplane. It’s an early birthday present. Everyone is here for a picnic while you, oh and Ken paid the extra fee for you to go accelerated free fall!”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Oh, and Debi and three of her college friends are joining you and Ken.

The family is around the pool while you’re all in the six-hour class.”

I felt the blood returning to my limbs and my face.

Debi is so small that they added weights to her jump suit.

The training gave me confidence and I was excited as we traipsed out to the twin prop airplane that would take us to 13,500 feet.

Busy chit-chatting with the spectators, showing off my fantastic jump suit,

I was the one last aboard.

Quarters inside the plane are cramped.

When we reached altitude, the door opened, my photographer climbed out and hung onto a hand grip bolted to the fuselage.

Suddenly, “last in, first out” became very real.

I assumed the crouch pose facing the front of the airplane with a jumpmaster on either side.

“Crouch closer to the door.”

I moved about a half an inch.

“One, two, three” shouted my handler and in an instant, we hit the air.

Within seconds, we were falling at terminal velocity, about 120 miles an hour.

I noticed the photographer, beneath us, with his back to the ground, which was momentarily miles away.

Jumpmaster hand signals.

I pull the rip cord.

Things happen fast on a skydive.

Suddenly alone, floating about a mile high I look up at the canopy holding me aloft.

Go figure. Vertigo.

I look down at the ground to clear my head. I’m fine as long as I don’t look up.

But there’s no hurry getting to the landing.

The peace is broken as my jumpmaster barks in my earpiece that he’s on the ground and ready for my approach.

I continue floating, but gravity will not be defied.

We get aligned for the landing and it is almost perfect.

I hear the spectators cheer.

Then, I watch as my brother-in-law, a former Marine recon with hundreds of jumps under his belt, crash-lands, twisting his ankle.

Next, we see Debi land, fall, and a gust of wind drag her down the field.

It’s all fun, and I’m going to do it again!

The next day, two jumpers, with about 3,000 jumps between them, get cords tangled and bounce.
Off the ground.

Things happen fast on a skydive.

I’m not going to do it again.

Ralph Bender here for Enduring Wealth Advisors®.

A few months ago, the markets were at an all-time high, then hit a free-fall, dropping into bear market in record time.

Then, like pulling the rip-cord, everything came screeching to a slowdown.

Now, it feels like we’re in suspended animation, just waiting to hit the ground.

We can help you stick that landing, and when we get back on Terra Firma, keep you focused on your long-run goals.

If you like what you’ve just heard, do us a favor and comment, or share it.

And, as always, reach out with any questions or concerns.

Gotta Run!

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