Liz Myers took the skydiving plunge – more than 1,000 times

Liz Myers never really cared to fly an airplane. But she did want to jump out of one. So she did – approximately 1,200 times between 1993 and 2005. Today, the Midwest Veterinary Supply rep prefers to remain grounded with her husband, Jay, in the ranch home they built about eight years ago in Ashland, Ohio.

Myers was born and raised in Ashland, midway between Cleveland and Columbus. Her father, Homer, worked at General Motors for years before opening up his own garage. Her mother, Denise, worked full-time as a chief deputy clerk at the probate court untill she was 80. She’s still alive and well today, at age 90.

Myers and her sisters were typical kids in the country, she says, with a variety of animals, including horses, dogs, cats and rabbits. In school, she was heavily involved in every aspect of music, including choir, orchestra and dance.

Dental assistant
Soon after graduating from school, she took a job in an orthodontics practice in Ashland. “I started working in the laboratory, fabricating all the retainers and different appliances the orthodontist used.” But the doctor, William Manos, believed that Myers would prove to be more valuable to the practice in the front of the office. So she became a dental assistant, working directly with the patients. “I loved it,” she says.

The practice continued to grow, and so did Myers’ responsibilities. Manos ended up opening two satellite offices in nearby cities, with Myers acting as manager of all three, involved in virtually all aspects of the practice. “If there was any kind of staff issue, I was the go-to,” she says.

She was also responsible for meeting with sales reps, and taking care of the buying and inventorying of products. The experience would prove valuable later on. “There were some reps who were incredibly helpful to me and the practice, and then there were some who wasted my time,” she says.

“I knew what [products] my boss wanted and what his buying preferences were. The sales reps who didn’t respect that didn’t last long. For me, it goes back to listening to and understanding what the customer needs, not what the sales rep wants to sell.”

Career move
Myers worked for Dr. Manos for 23 years, and was ready for a new set of challenges. So she began considering a career move, including dental product sales. Then she got a call from a former employee whom she hadn’t seen in close to 10 years, who had taken a job in a local veterinary practice.

“She called me and said, ‘My Midwest sales rep is expecting her second baby, and she’s asking me if I know anybody who would be really good to replace her,’” recalls Myers. “I just knew it was right for me. I harassed the daylight out of Midwest until they hired me.” That was in 1999, and she hasn’t looked back.

“I knew this job would be my career,” she says. “I’m indirectly helping animals. They’re our four-legged ‘kids.’ And I also help people. If I can make my buyers’ lives easier, solve any problem a clinic is having, bring helpful information to them … it doesn’t get any better than that.”

First jump
Myers first jumped out of an airplane in October 1993, at Canton (Ohio) Air Sports. But she had begun practicing long before that.

“From as far back as I can remember, I would sneak a sheet on my head to simulate a parachute, and jump from our roof,” she recalls. She’d create flying gear out of oil crates from her dad’s automotive garage.

Being airborne, it turns out, is in her blood. Both her parents had private pilots’ licenses. In fact, her mother was the first woman in Ashland County with a pilot’s license. “She could fly a plane before she could drive,” says Myers.

Her parents tried to interest their daughter in flying, but it never took. “The responsibility of flying an airplane scared me to death,” she says. “I just wanted to jump out of one.”

One day in 1993, she got a call from her husband, Jay. A group of friends had tried to convince him to go skydiving with them; they needed one more body to get a discount. “He didn’t want to do it, but he knew it was on my wish list,” she recalls. So she took seven hours of class and prepared to make her first jump.

“I’m sweating again, just thinking about it,” she says, when asked about that first jump. “I didn’t expect to be as terrified as I was.”

The first jump was a static line jump. The novice climbs onto the wing of the aircraft (in this case, a Cessna 182) at about 3,000 feet, and as soon as she lets go, her chute is automatically deployed. There is no freefall, just a canopy ride, she says. (The static line jump has fallen out of favor among instructors, says Myers. Today, novices jump from full altitude, between 11,500 and 13,500 feet.)

“I remember kicking my leg, which I wasn’t supposed to do,” she recalls. “And screaming, which I didn’t think I would do.” It’s all on a video. Nevertheless, when she landed, her first question was, “When can I do this again?”

“I realized, this is a sport,” she says. “There was so much to learn. I got totally addicted.

A hundred jumps a year
Indeed, Myers would squeeze in a jump whenever she could. She took an Accelerated Freefall course, which focuses on teaching the skydiver how to “fly” his or her body while falling through the air. She got an A license, then a B, C and D, where D is master level. To attain each level, the diver must complete a certain number of jumps and master different skills. She became a videographer, and then a coach. Over 12 years, she completed about 1,200 jumps. “That sounds like a lot, but most of my skydiving friends had somewhere between 4,000 and 6,000. I met people with 11,000 jumps – they were the [Accelerated Freefall] instructors.”

Myers loved every jump she made, even the night jumps. “You lose your depth perception, which is a big thing,” she says of the night jumps.

Throughout her skydiving years, never did she feel she was in danger…except once, about six years after she began jumping. She was taking part in an invitation-only skydive in Indiana. She and 31 other divers (as well as three cameramen) were to jump out of the rear of a CASA aircraft, then complete five formations before deploying their chutes.

“We were so excited about the jump, we forgot to respect the aircraft,” she says. As the pilots reached the exit altitude of 13,500 feet and slowed down the plane just a little bit, the jumpers prepared to exit. “But we stayed aft CG [center of gravity], and there was too much weight behind the wing.” The plane stalled and the tail dropped suddenly, knocking out half the skydivers. Then the plane bounced back up and began a nosedive.

“I remember climbing up the window wells,” she says. “I just wanted to get out.” She did jump at about 8,000 feet. And the pilots were able to level the airplane out at 4,000 feet. A similar incident had occurred twice before in skydiving, and in those situations no one survived, she says. But on Myers’ jumps, everyone survived, though there were some scrapes, a broken arm and dislocated shoulder.

But in the spirit of getting back on the horse that throws you, she got back in the plane the next day and jumped…as she continued to do for another six years or so.

Eventually, Myers realized she couldn’t continue jumping. “It was a matter of priorities and time,” she says. “Being a distributor rep is not an 8 to 5 job, and being a good skydiver is not a one-jump-a-week sort of thing.” The circumstances of her life changed as well. She and Jay – who is a contractor and builder – decided to build the house of their dreams on their 14 acres in Ashland. “We had such a ball. And once the house was built, my priorities shifted. Now, when I’m not working, I’m playing at home.”

Still, she will never forget her jumping days. “Most normal people jump once to say they’ve done it,” she says. “That’s what I expected would happen to me. I didn’t expect to get addicted.”