PAVING THE SKY

Upon arriving at the home of Muriel Simbro in Clark Fork, Idaho, I was greeted with a smile that warmed my heart and a generous cup of coffee to warm my insides. Simbro and I sat down to chat about her life story. I was certain the conversation was going to be amazing, and she did not disappoint.

Just as we began talking, the phone rang. Simbro's youngest daughter, Jenny, who lives in Arizona, called. Simbro excused herself and answered, telling Jenny that she was just beginning her interview. I overheard Jenny emphasize to her mother, "Now do not forget to tell them how wonderful you are!"

I had already known Simbro was wonderful. I had previously done some research on her and gained some background information about who she was before we met. I was fully aware that I was meeting a woman who knew how to hang with the big guys – in the sky that is.

Simbro met her husband Hank when she was a whopping 8 years old. It was through their church the two met.

"He was a military school boy, in uniform. How could I not adore him?" Simbro expressed infatuation as she showed a photo of an adorable young man touting a fine looking uniform indeed.

Sadly, Simbro's mother had passed away when she was just 13 years old. She told of a story that followed that sad time in her life. "This woman had ingrown toenails that my father fixed, and they fell in love." That woman happened to be Hank's mother. She recalled her step-mother as being a "wonderful lady."

Funny as it may sound, Simbro ended up marrying her step-brother. She became Muriel Simbro-Simbro in 1946, after Hank returned from spending more than two years in Iwo Jima serving as a U.S. Marine during WWII.

"Our whole family is crazy like this!" she said with laughter. It appears nothing is ordinary with the group, they cherish every moment they have been given in this world – a lesson many could learn from.

In 1958 Simbro recalled Hank working for Eastman Kodak when one of his coworkers told him he was going to build a one-seat glider. "Hank came home from work one day and said, 'Guess what I'm going to do? I am going to learn to fly!'" she said with eyes wide. "I said, 'Well, if you're going to learn then so am I!'"

"So, we took lessons together and learned how to fly." And the rest is history.

After spending time flying their two gliders, Hank must have thought it was time to upgrade. He bought Muriel a Luscombe, all-metal side-by-side.

"It was yellow with black, but we painted it white with a green stripe right down the middle," she recalled. "We flew all over in it."

I realized that she was not joking. She really did fly all over in it. She took it across the country with a girlfriend of hers on a two-week excursion. She recalled taking off from California and landing the plane in Joliet, Illinois, during a tornado storm in 1960. Simbro had chained down the plane and secured the stick with the seatbelt hoping for the best.

"There were planes that were picked up and dropped in a field far away." Simbro said that despite most planes having been turned into a pile of wreckage, her plane survived and was in perfect condition. She flew it back to California, without any problems, to learn that Hank also had been having quite an adventure himself.

"He had made his first freefall while I was gone," she said, admitting this is how their skydiving journey began. "He told me I just had to try it." She agreed to pilot him because he just wanted to jump, jump, jump and had lost interest in being a pilot himself. After observing him jump 40 times "I gave in," she said, riotously laughing. Simbro decided to try it for herself.

"I was trained how to fall, the side of the shoulder, hip and side of the leg," she recalled going up to jump that same day. "It was beautiful. So thrilling and quiet up there." She made five jumps that day, adding in a few turns in the air, "just trying to do what I watched them do. They told me I looked like a natural."

Muriel Simbro was ahead of her time. She entered parachuting in 1960, a time when women did not do such things. She recalled being one of only a couple women, and sometimes the only woman, amongst quite a few men at competitions. It was at these competitions where "I always hit the target." She said she had a Class 3 Medical Certificate for piloting and perfect depth perception, giving her an advantage.

This advantage has earned her quite a reputation in the world of parachuting. She was the first woman to earn a D license (D-78) and the first woman to win a gold medal in a world meet. She won gold in the 1962 World Parachuting Championships, first in the Team Accuracy event with Nona Pond and Carlyn Olsen, first in the Overall Women's World Team Championship with Kim Emmons, Nona Pond and Carlyn Olsen, and earned top honors in the Overall Woman's World Championship.

She received the Helms Athlete of the Year Award, made and appearance on the gameshow "To Tell the Truth" on October 1, 1962, was inducted into the International Skydiving Hall of Fame in 2012, has made more than 650 jumps, is a member of the Over 80 Jump Club and is still going strong.

For three years the Simbro's lived married life to the fullest, before having children.

"We did everything we wanted before having children, and when we did, the kids went everywhere with us," Simbro said. "We never had babysitters." Their three daughters travelled every weekend with them around the country to competitions.

They were blessed with Jesse, Jamie (of Trout Creek) and Jenny, all of whom they shared their love of the sky with. All three girls have experienced skydiving and have found an appreciation for it. Jesse, the oldest of the three, started jumping when she was only 14 years old. Being a champion entitled Simbro to a waiver allowing her daughter to take the jump at such a young age. "There was a timer on her reserve (parachute) in case she didn't pull in time," she said.

One day, after completing 13 jumps, Jesse said, "Momma, I don't wanna die. Do I have to keep doing this?" Simbro shared, adding that she told Jesse she didn't have to keep jumping.

Turns out, after observing so many skydivers over the years, Jesse became a good coach. "She knew exactly what to do and told everyone what they were doing wrong, it helped us all," Simbro recalled of her daughter's direction.

Sadly, Jesse passed away after losing a battle with cancer in 2009. Shortly after that, in January 2010, Hank passed away from a simultaneous heart attack and stroke.

"It has been a huge void in my life," Simbro said, sharing her feelings on life after her daughter and Hank, with who she celebrated 64 years of marriage. "It really is strange in a way. He never wanted to suffer when he was dying, and I am so glad he didn't have to."

Jamie and Jenny still make jumps with their mother. In fact, two of Simbro's six grandchildren are skydivers as well. They continue to get together and complete family jumps celebrating a legacy not many families can.

The only close call Simbro has ever had was on jump number 14. She was the only girl with nine men when the plane started coughing and the cockpit began filling with smoke. They knew it was time to bail.

"Everyone went right by me. The man before me took all the air from me, so there was nothing left for my chute to open," she said, explaining the vacuum effect, but had to make the jump anyway. "My lines were over my chute" preventing her parachute from opening. "I was getting lower and lower," she continued. "So, I pulled my reserve which landed on my foot, and ended up clearing the strings of my main chute," she laughed. "Both ended up opening!"

"Funny enough, I didn't even think I was going to crash." Simbro claims she has never had the feeling that skydiving was going to end badly for her. Her demeanor is of a calm, cool and collected sort - perfect for such a sport.

Simbro, now 91 years young, paved the road in the sky for women. She still jumps, although a hip injury has grounded her temporarily, she plans to be back in the air next year. "I was only 105 pounds, so I could spend 10 minutes up there. The guys were all jealous of me for that."