Flight lesson: Jumpers away

An early start would help avoid the heat and humidity that was sure to be prevalent as the day progressed. My co-owner Steve and I met at Tullahoma Regional Airport (THA) to fly to Guntersville Municipal (8A1) in Alabama, about a 40-minute flight in our speedster.

The Tullahoma airport is a busy place on most weekends. It’s common to see skydivers, gliders, helicopter operations, and other general aviation activity successfully sharing the airspace. After the preflight, I checked the tetrahedron, and, although the wind was minimal, it was pointing to the north. I heard a distant Beechcraft Baron entering the area with intentions to land on Runway 36, so I taxied out to do the runup.

I heard the Baron entering downwind for Runway 36, and I heard the skydivers’ jump plane pilot announce, “Jumpers away.” The jumpers land in a large grassy area around the middle of the field. I taxied short of the runway hold line and angled the airplane about 45 degrees into the wind. I completed the pre-takeoff checklist, pulled the power back to 1,000 rpm, and stared out the left window looking for the Baron pilot who had just called final.

Suddenly, our airplane shuddered, and the engine was stopping. My first thought was that someone taxied into us from behind. As I looked out front, my heart sank, and I remember saying, “Oh, no.”

There was the silky material of a parachute draped over the propeller as it was slowly rotating to a stop. I thought someone had just died or had been seriously maimed. Steve opened the door as I turned off the magnetos and master switch. I heard him talking to someone on the ground, and I thought, That’s a good sign.

The skydiver was a young woman, about 20 years of age, and she was asking if our airplane was OK. Steve told her not to worry about the airplane. I was getting out of the airplane and the skydiver was trying to get to her feet. She looked to be in shock, and who wouldn’t be?

The skydiving ground crew soon showed up and assisted the jumper back to the hangar. Miraculously, she had no injuries. This was one of her early solo jumps, and according to other skydivers she had fixated on the Cherokee and landed right toward it, like a moth to a flame. She had landed just feet away from a moving propeller and was unscathed.

Steve and I got back in the Cherokee and started it up. We ran the power up to check for any unusual vibrations, and having found none, we had just about decided to take it around the pattern when someone called over the radio and told us there was an airworthiness directive that prohibits flight after a sudden engine stoppage until the engine can be torn down and inspected.

I kept thinking about whether there was anything I could have done differently to avoid the situation. As disturbing as it was, I could only be thankful for the way things turned out.

After this episode I am more careful when I hear the call, “Jumpers away over Tullahoma,” whether on the ground or in the air. Experience with the jumpers had given me a false sense that they were not a factor in routine operations at the airport, but I will be more paranoid in the future. The jumper missed her landing area by about a half mile with plenty of room to the left or right of us, but somehow she ended up just feet from our propeller.