WillO is how most people refer to me at my home. And when I talk about home, I don't mean the house that I live in. No, home to me is off where the vastness and flatness of the land give way to a seemingly lost little plot: a plot with a few trailors, a hangar, a 3000 foot length of bumpy, grass runway, and a big field the shape of Nevada bordered by corn and trees and a creek. This place is Aerohio Skydiving center.
Of course my home doesn't sound like much upon first description, but I've only forked over the scenery details. Every weekend I go home to the drop zone, as Aerohio is known, to "save people's lives" as many of the regular skydivers like to call it; my job is to pack parachutes. Most people refer to us as "packers," However, to a packer, that doesn't sound professional enough when explaining my job to someone less exposed to the skydiving world. So we instead like to jokingly refer to ourselves as "Professionals in the Skydiving Industry": a much more worthy title.
They say that if you love your job, you'll never work a day of your life. I honestly believe that I don't think I've ever done "work" at the dz. There's something about throwing a rig together that make's me feel good about what I'm doing. The tedious tasks involved with the completion of repacking a parachute seems to do well for my Engineering-type personality as well. The drop zone is one of the only places on earth where I can feel completely and utterly content with life.
So you know where I go to be happy. You probably guess what else I do while I'm at a Skydiving Center...
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