Ah... someone disturbed a ghost from the past... Kim Harloff. AKA "OB-1" because my Senior Parachute Technician ID was 'OBB' so everyone called me OB-1. Hey, it was the 70's.
I wish then was today, I'd produce a reality show about Southern Cross. It was such a Drama Zone as well as a Drop Zone.
Originally, I was schooled by Kabeller to be his rigger. I trained at Forsythe's rigging loft in Glen Burnie, Md.
While there' I discovered something rather peculiar. One of the piggyback rigs that I had opened had both the reserve risers cleanly cut with a razor knife. I showed it to John and that's the last I saw of it. Mysterious indeed!
Anyhoo, the first year working at Southern Cross was okay, I seemed to make fair money. That was the first year. The second year, there were problems. Complicating by declining health (I had stage-I kidney disease at the time) and the heat and humidity, compounded with having to untangle and repack 80 student chutes a weekend, was tearing me apart.
I was also having issues with my blind father and coping with his WW-II PTSD behaviors which frequently put me in a violent situation
Making matter worse, I kept getting into rifts with George over my pay which at the time was only $2 a rig. But the story get better. George also was pushing me into a Porta-John cleaning service to which I was absolutely not only humiliated with the idea, I adamantly refused to get involved in the idea. Especially when he said I would only make $ 30 a week.
I found myself barely making the rent for my room in Hagerstown over the winter and not having any money for traveling or socializing with local folk. I felt quite alone and isolated.
Came next season, I again tried to discuss a raise with George, only to get the same old story that my pay, compared to what Jumpmasters were getting, in the long run turned to be much better. I didn't see it that way and frequently reminded him that I gauge my pay by my work, not other peoples. Also, some club members were frequently telling me that I was a fool for making as little as I did and said that I should just leave. And so I did.
Did I mention the Southern Cross drama? Another problem was me having to work with Jamie Kaufman, my rigger assistant. There was something about him that disturbed me, and when I accidentally walked in on him in his barn, only to see that he just killed and skinned two blacks which I enjoyed feeding, that drew the line.
Bottom line: I just wasn't enjoying being at Southern Cross anymore.
Things I remember:
Tobey the Cat
Sitting with Mike Zazadill's Girlfriend, Sharron, in the back seat while driving to a party in Leesburg Va while the both of us killed a Qt of whiskey and a coke chaser. We became so drunk that when we arrived at the party, I was a lampshade and Sharron crashed out on a bed and someone scribed R.I.P on her forehead with ashes. I vaguely remember the ride back to the hanger where I leaped on a table and wrapped myself up in a chute in 40 degree weather which didn't seem to effect me that night.
The great food at Jim's Always
And nearly killing myself when, while riding a short lined Strato star, cranking it real low to hit the disk while knocking the wind out of me.
Also knocking the spirit out of me was the loss of my father and three grandparents all in a nine month period. Why I don't drink or use drugs is a paradox, I'm its perfect recipient.
Today, I live in NY State where I'm on SSI to cover kidney examinations (Medicaid), but I have half a thought to renew my rigger license and get back into the business a little bit. I don't jump anymore, due to hip replacement, but I sure would like to get back to turning packed rigs that are no less then perfect.
Sadly, I've learned that some of The SCPC members are now ghosts who walk amongst it inheritors.
I've read very little about Betty Kabeller, and George seems to have vanished of the planet all together.
