"One more pass, and we'll be hot,"

Specialist First Class Jake Brown says as the U.S.

Army's Golden Knights jump plane circles above

Falcon Field. Hot? At 11,000 feet altitude, the cabin

is about 40 degrees chilly, but for the Army parachute team, "hot" means the airspace is clear

of other aircraft and it is safe to jump.

The team leader crouches near the open door, watching, hand-signals the others and

finally gives them the go- ahead.

The parachutists line up, proceed to the open exits, bend and stretch themselves into a tight

little sculpture. "OK. Ready, set, go!" In the blink of

an eye, they disappear from sight, free falling, somersaulting and sailing through the air

when they suddenly pull the cord on their chutes

and begin drifting toward earth and their shared target.

For the Golden Knights from Ft. Bragg in North Carolina, stepping out into the clouds is

like taking a walk in the park. They make it look easy. But these

men and women train and practice every day, jumping daily

when weather conditions allow.

The 10-member Gold Team flew into Peachtree City this

past weekend to thrill and entertain audiences at the first ever local

air show.

Preparation for each performance begins with a "dirt

dive" which they executed Saturday beside their golden-striped plane,

a Friendship Fokker propeller model. The team ran through

each move and count in preparation for the actual jump.

Once in the plane, they zip up their gold-color suits, strap on

20-pound packs bearing emergency chutes, and check the

leather spheres fitted atop their rip-stop nylon sail chutes. Ear plugs

are fitted into their ear canals to soften the noise and tight

leather helmets are pulled on their heads.

After take-off, the mood in the plane is relaxed. Some

members lounge near the cockpit, while others sit quietly, checking

their altimeters as they gain altitude. The view of Fayette County

observed from the open doors is a patchwork of green fields,

blue lakes, and clusters of white-roofed subdivisions.

The narrator designated for this particular show, Staff

Sergeant Mark Keeling, kneels in the doorway, clutching a gold and a

black rolled streamer which he will release at 2,000 feet. He turns into

the cockpit and holds up five fingers and gestures his thumb to

the right. This is just one of the signals given prior to the jump

to inform his fellow team members of wind conditions. The

streamers allow the Knights to monitor wind drift.

There is also a man on the ground equipped with a radio

to communicate with the airborne team. "Our ground guy is the

eyes and ears for the team," said Staff Sergeant Mario Rivera.

He explained that winds in excess of 20 mph and cloud cover can

make it difficult for the team to jump. But today conditions are ideal.

Suddenly the green light flashes above the door. Keeling's got

a hot target and in a few moments, he jumps.

The team leader fills Keeling's spot at the door and

continues checking conditions.

"The team leader watches to see how much push he's

(Keeling) getting from the upper winds," Brown explains.

Aside from a friendly hand squeeze to us passengers, there

are no prayers, secret handshakes or odd pre-jump rituals. The

nine remaining Knights laugh, smile and on cue, jump. Each

one glides onto the target and waves. It's just another work day

for the Golden Knights.

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