PHOTO BY DIVER GREG, DROP ZONE HAWAII, COURTESY OF JUNE DILLINGER June Dillinger, dressed in lime green, takes the plunge from high above Dillingham airfield with the help of instructor Shaun Dunn of Drop Zone Hawaii. Leaping into 40 On the 18th of June, I was 39. The next day I would be a year older. At 11:36 p.m. I lay in bed thinking with excitement about what my next 40 years would hold. Honestly, I felt a bit strange. After tossing around a few minutes, I put on a headset with some meditation music to speed the sleep process.I don't know when you figured out that you were an adult, but for some it comes later than others. For me, it was when I was 36. Of course, not much has changed in my life since then except that I learned the meaning of responsibility and lost the meaning of fun. With fun in mind, it seemed like turning 40 was a milestone that should be celebrated. Six months ago, I set out to find something "out of this world" that would welcome me into the better half of life. (Or, at least, that's what I'd been told.) I began the hunt for information on jumping. You know ... from an airplane.I do not like roller coasters or high balconies, but the idea of sky jumping on my birthday for some reason held irresistible appeal
By June Dillinger Special to the Star-Bulletin
I asked around and was eventually referred to a co-worker who had logged many hours diving out of airplanes. Phil had delivered leis to weddings and on occasion jumped into his own back yard after work. It sounded exciting. He even told me I could jump naked! I wondered for a brief moment what kind of shoes I should wear for the landing. He told me to contact Drop Zone Hawaii(www.dropzonehawaii.com).As the months ticked by and I solidified my plans, my friends wondered if I was going through a midlife crisis or what was I trying to prove. All I knew was that I had to do it. I might add that I do not ride roller coasters, I don't like open balconies at high heights and I don't do the high dive at the swimming pool, so this was an interesting move, to say the least.
PHOTO BY DIVER GREG, DROP ZONE HAWAII, COURTESY OF JUNE DILLINGER They free fall for about 45 seconds before opening the parachute. A couple of days before the jump, I called to reserve a spot for myself. I called back a second time when my father urged me to check the company's safety record. Their information was good. I didn't need research beyond watching a few war movies, but I did wonder where we were going to land! For some reason, I believed the landing would be fine, no matter what shoes I wore.I invited 76 friends and family members to join me. Unfortunately, no one was available on a Wednesday. Some responded with, "Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?" All I could think of was that there wasn't any other kind I'd rather jump out of. I AWOKE ON June 19 feeling strong and happy to be alive. It is always a beautiful day in Hawaii, and I was fulfilled, having spent 18 years living here. I took a morning walk around Diamond Head, then came home to shower. I picked up my son Macklin from summer school at 10:45 a.m., and off we went to Dillingham Air Field on the North Shore. By the way, I wore my favorite light green top, black pants and favorite running shoes from the Running Room. Once out at the Drop Zone, I was greeted by a friendly staff. A few of the master divers were lounging around having casual conversation while waiting for their next jump with a novice. Their confidence seemed to rest in their beings.
PHOTO BY DIVER GREG, DROP ZONE HAWAII, COURTESY OF JUNE DILLINGER A glide to a gentle landing. Some Japanese tourists were in the waiting room filling out paperwork or watching a video while biding time until their turn to jump. After completing my five pages of paperwork and watching a safety video, I strolled outside and saw a group of divers land at the end of the airstrip. Ah, I said to myself, so that's where I'll land. Right at the end of the runway out front. How simple!I would like to leave the rest up to your imagination. It would also be unfair to spoil the rush of it in case you do indeed decide to try to give jumping a go. However, I will say that by far and above, there is nothing more awesome than a free fall from 10,000 feet, especially when securely tethered at the shoulders and hips to a very attractive and skilled master diver. The 120 mph drop was just not long enough with him. We traveled together through clouds and above the incredible deep blues and greens of the Pacific Ocean. The twinkle and glitter of life was breathtaking. Our tandem parachute opened with a gentle tug, and we were set in place for a comfortable six-minute ride back down. I'd say go ahead and hit me again at 41, but I already have an appointment for lessons this weekend. Anyone is welcome. It's a Saturday.
PHOTO BY DIVER GREG, DROP ZONE HAWAII, COURTESY OF JUNE DILLINGER June Dillinger, center, beams after landing with her instructor, Shaun Dunn, left. Her son, Macklin Woo, right, watched from the landing area. Click for online calendars and events.
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PHOTO BY DIVER GREG, DROP ZONE HAWAII, COURTESY OF JUNE DILLINGER
June Dillinger, dressed in lime green, takes the plunge from high above Dillingham airfield with the help of instructor Shaun Dunn of Drop Zone Hawaii.
On the 18th of June, I was 39. The next day I would be a year older. At 11:36 p.m. I lay in bed thinking with excitement about what my next 40 years would hold. Honestly, I felt a bit strange. After tossing around a few minutes, I put on a headset with some meditation music to speed the sleep process.
I don't know when you figured out that you were an adult, but for some it comes later than others. For me, it was when I was 36. Of course, not much has changed in my life since then except that I learned the meaning of responsibility and lost the meaning of fun.
With fun in mind, it seemed like turning 40 was a milestone that should be celebrated. Six months ago, I set out to find something "out of this world" that would welcome me into the better half of life. (Or, at least, that's what I'd been told.) I began the hunt for information on jumping. You know ... from an airplane.
I asked around and was eventually referred to a co-worker who had logged many hours diving out of airplanes. Phil had delivered leis to weddings and on occasion jumped into his own back yard after work. It sounded exciting. He even told me I could jump naked! I wondered for a brief moment what kind of shoes I should wear for the landing. He told me to contact Drop Zone Hawaii(www.dropzonehawaii.com).
As the months ticked by and I solidified my plans, my friends wondered if I was going through a midlife crisis or what was I trying to prove. All I knew was that I had to do it. I might add that I do not ride roller coasters, I don't like open balconies at high heights and I don't do the high dive at the swimming pool, so this was an interesting move, to say the least.
A couple of days before the jump, I called to reserve a spot for myself. I called back a second time when my father urged me to check the company's safety record. Their information was good. I didn't need research beyond watching a few war movies, but I did wonder where we were going to land! For some reason, I believed the landing would be fine, no matter what shoes I wore.
I invited 76 friends and family members to join me. Unfortunately, no one was available on a Wednesday. Some responded with, "Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?"
All I could think of was that there wasn't any other kind I'd rather jump out of.
I AWOKE ON June 19 feeling strong and happy to be alive. It is always a beautiful day in Hawaii, and I was fulfilled, having spent 18 years living here. I took a morning walk around Diamond Head, then came home to shower. I picked up my son Macklin from summer school at 10:45 a.m., and off we went to Dillingham Air Field on the North Shore. By the way, I wore my favorite light green top, black pants and favorite running shoes from the Running Room.
Once out at the Drop Zone, I was greeted by a friendly staff. A few of the master divers were lounging around having casual conversation while waiting for their next jump with a novice. Their confidence seemed to rest in their beings.
Some Japanese tourists were in the waiting room filling out paperwork or watching a video while biding time until their turn to jump. After completing my five pages of paperwork and watching a safety video, I strolled outside and saw a group of divers land at the end of the airstrip. Ah, I said to myself, so that's where I'll land. Right at the end of the runway out front. How simple!
I would like to leave the rest up to your imagination. It would also be unfair to spoil the rush of it in case you do indeed decide to try to give jumping a go. However, I will say that by far and above, there is nothing more awesome than a free fall from 10,000 feet, especially when securely tethered at the shoulders and hips to a very attractive and skilled master diver.
The 120 mph drop was just not long enough with him. We traveled together through clouds and above the incredible deep blues and greens of the Pacific Ocean. The twinkle and glitter of life was breathtaking. Our tandem parachute opened with a gentle tug, and we were set in place for a comfortable six-minute ride back down.
I'd say go ahead and hit me again at 41, but I already have an appointment for lessons this weekend. Anyone is welcome. It's a Saturday.
The Goddess Speaks
June Dillinger
Dad used to say that it was my job to flit around trying all sorts of things during my first time on this planet. I realized later that I was like a butterfly sampling many flowers and only became beautiful because of what my father taught me about life. Now in my 40s, with him gone almost a year, I know Dad's lessons will continue to surface at unexpected times. I am ready.
George, my father, died at 4:33 a.m. on Sept. 14. His body, dressed in a favorite bright red shirt, was transported two hours later from his Honolulu apartment. Between then and the time his life left his body, a warmth enveloped the space that surrounded his survivors. The sensation was surreal. I had never been with someone at their time of death, but I wasn't afraid. I was lucky. I had been blessed to have shared my daddy's last breath.
He was cremated on the 17th. I picked him up on the 18th. Feeling proud to hold his bones in my arms, I had a picture taken at the cemetery. After picking up a large bag of ruby red and white rose petals, and three flower leis, I headed to the beach at the east end of Waikiki. My friends Ray and Elise met me. Ray brought two kayaks and a water camera. Elise brought her love and support.
The morning was as oddly serene as the day Dad died. The tradewinds that blew gently were scented with plumeria, and the vivid blue sky held clouds above us like puffs of downy cotton. Kapiolani Park, nearby, seemed greener than ever as the sprinklers dusted the grass with fresh water.
We set up the kayaks, making sure George was safe in the hull with the flowers and pita bread I brought along. George loved pita! We carried the boats to the water's edge next to the Natatorium. Elise and I paddled out together, following Ray to a perfect spot.
A south swell caused the ocean to roll beneath our kayaks. The splash off our paddles was warm and welcoming in the heat of the morning sun. Elise suggested a clear turquoise blue spot in the distance. When we arrived, I jumped in to be sure it was the right place. The water was crystal clear, and the sandy bottom with scattered rocks could be seen about 50 feet below. Waikiki appeared far away.
I crawled back into the boat facing Elise, opened the hull and prepared the flowers and Dad's cremains. I set out the leis, then asked Elise for a key so I could open Dad's box, bearing a label reading "Dr. George E. Dillinger." Releasing the cover, I lifted out Dad's body, bones, ash, remains, or what looked to me like sacred cream-colored sand. It was all in a clear plastic bag weighing about 10 pounds, with a white twist tie to keep it closed.
Elise and I put some rose petals in the water. I threw more in the air. They caught the breeze and fell around us. We each said something special about Dad and life as we set our leis in the ocean to bless him. Then I picked up the bag of remains and gently let the ashes of my father sift through my fingers into the sea. They billowed gracefully through the water, traveling slowly yet purposefully through the moving current. My father was set free.
UPON REFLECTION, the floating cremains almost looked like a genie coming out of a bottle. A supernatural sort of essence filtering back into the universe.
I emptied the bag, then filled it with water and poured it out again, making sure there wasn't a single grain remaining. Ray asked me if I was going in, and without hesitation I slipped off the boat and swam with my father. I opened my eyes under the surface of the water and saw his dust all around me. For a moment I wondered if the grains would scratch my eyes, but tears filled them instead.
My heart was charged with pain and joy as I stroked through the water with him. In the disappearing cloud I saw a few flashing lights ahead of me. Maybe it was just my tears fooling me with this new sight. I lifted my head and looked back. The water was clear of the flowers and cloud of dust; everything was gone. I turned around and floated on my back for a minute.
A moment later, Ray called out with a smile on his face, "Hey, look, there's a honu!
A Hawaiian sea turtle, light blond and pale green, had surfaced. He looked over his left shoulder at the three of us, then dived down toward the west. We cried with delight, as this visitor was a final blessing and a message that our work was complete. Afterward, we ate the pita, leaving a trail in the ocean behind us as we paddled back to shore.
Every day since, I have thought of Dad. I don't need Father's Day to remind me that without his words and lessons, my life would certainly never be as rich as it is today.
