For my 18th birthday I decided I wanted to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. If you have never gone skydiving you will never understand the rush of it all. I was to do a static line jump. This means I jump out of the airplane alone with a rope tied to the parachute that pulls it open.

I was the first of 4 to jump that day. The instructor opened the small door of the plane and the wind was insane.

Step 1: Climb out the door and grab on to the wing strut with 100 mph + winds making the skin on my face flap

Step 2: hang from the strut and look over at the instructor for the thumbs up as I am dangling from the wing.

Step 3: Release !

I remember my neck snapping back as the static line ripped the chute out of my pack.. then I blacked out for a few seconds… then I remember grabbing at my emergency release… I think I was in shock.. then I looked up and my chute lines were twisted- (like a kid that swung in circles on a swing) I pulled the lines apart and everything seemed ok.  After all that it was an amazing view and a great descent down, floating through the air, it was so quite and peaceful.  As I neared the ground I realized just how fast I was descending. I had a rough landing – flaring up a second too late. It was one hell of a ride.

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Below is my true story (actual journal entry) of the stupidest and most dangerous thing I’ve ever done in my life. I was working as a civil contractor in Iraq (at Baghdad Airport) 6 months after the war started.

I was 21 years old (and looked like I was 16). My best friend (co-worker, who was a spunky Iraqi girl) and I decided to venture out with our company car when our bosses were away in Dubai. I don’t know why I did it, but a part of me always wondered what it was really like in the normal everyday Iraqi places. I’ve been to the military bases and I know what that is like but I wanted to experience the “real” Iraqi experience first hand. I think my crazy idea came from a book I read years earlier when I was 14. I read the book “Black Like Me,” about a white man who decided to change his skin color and live in the deep south to see and truly experience life in a whole other way. My experience lasted less than 2 hours (and thank God this was before all the kidnappings had started in Iraq).

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6 January 2004 – Holly Beth Mann

My Venture Out

My heart was racing and my hands were shaking. I fumbled to put on my scarf while trying to maintain control over the vehicle. Nuha grabbed the steering wheel as I frantically tied the leopard-print scarf around my head. I pulled the dirt-covered Pajero to the side of the road, as Nuha reassured me that I would be ok. She asked me if I wanted to turn back and I said no. I told her I’d feel better if I wasn’t driving, but she didn’t have her license or any driving experience. So, I asked her if she knew the way to the shop and she said she did. I asked her again, making sure there was no way we could possibly get lost. She told me not to worry, and off we went.
The entire ride there, we both thought about every possible scenario and what we would do if something happened; if the car broke down, if we were in an accident and most importantly, if anyone saw us driving out there. We would be in such a world of trouble if anyone knew what we were doing. My boss just hopped a flight to Bahrain for some meetings, so I thought this was an opportune time to do this.
It was a miracle I didn’t get in a car wreck. None of the traffic lights worked because there’s no electricity in Baghdad and everything is run by generators. All I could hear were the sounds of car horns, honking constantly, coming from every direction. I felt panicky and uncomfortable driving. My face felt hot as my nervousness escalated. Nuha kept telling me to stop worrying. I told her that I was so worried because I had a good friend who was killed while driving through Baghdad.
10 minutes later we arrived at the first shop. When I stepped out of the car and walked into the store, I felt so terrified, I stopped breathing and my face became flushed. Nuha spoke to me in Arabic and I just smiled and nodded. I didn’t understand what she was saying and I couldn’t say anything in English.
We left the store to go to another shop. Nuha was friends with the owner, so when we entered the store they began to talk to one another. I stood to the side, praying he wouldn’t say something to me. She then began to whisper something to him. He looked at me and smiled. She told him the secret. She told him I’m American. He offered me a soda and I shook my head no. Nuha told him “No thank you,” from me and he insisted again and I accepted. He invited us to lunch also and offered me a free shirt from his store. Nuha told him I appreciated it. In the end I bought a nice blouse for $20 dollars.
We decided to return to the airport before people became suspicious of us. We had been gone for 1 ½ hours. Nuha and I were so proud of ourselves for what we pulled off. We made it! We laughed and joked about how crazy we were. It was amazing to see the city and the people. I hope someday it will be safe enough for me to venture out without such fear. Inshalla.

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I come from a family of hardcore gamblers. My grandma once came back from Las Vegas with a sling on her arm. Apparently she pulled the one armed bandit too many times.

I started sneaking into casinos at age 16. Blackjack is my game. I use a special betting strategy- I call it the “Take it , Leave it” method. It’s based on streaks. When I win I take my payoff , if I win again I leave my payoff (doubling my bet)- If I lose I reduce my bet to the minimum and start over. I’m strict to this strategy, I never waiver. The bets can build up fast. For example if you start with $10 here is what could happen with a streak of wins.

Bets- $10 W $10 W $20 W $20 W $40 W $40 W $80 W $80 W $160 W $160 W $320 Lose- start over at $10

If I hit a blackjack the number grows even faster. So it makes the game all about waiting for the streak- but when the streak happens- it’s one hell of a ride.

The above scenario played out for me once. When I was of legal age. When I got to $320 level (and the entire table is looking at me like “who is this crazy kid?” including the pitboss who must of thought I was a card counter) I got an 11 against the dealers 15 showing. I had to double down- no breaking strategy… $640 total bet ! And I got my 10 for a 21 ! … I lost the next hand and dropped back down to 10 bucks. But it was one hell of a rush for a young kid like me to bet $640 on one hand of blackjack.

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