Channel 2 Houston News

The author recalls riding on balloon months before the deadly accident

By Samantha Ptashkin – Reporter

Posted: 6:35 PM, August 02, 2016

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HOUSTON – A Houston area author recently wrote a blog about the tragic hot air balloon accident near Austin, months after she took a ride on the same balloon, with the same pilot.

Mary Ann Perez McNulty and three of her girlfriends went on the ride last January.

View the original article and see the video on the Click2News website ~~~

(http://www.click2houston.com/news/author-recalls-ride-on-balloon-months-before-deadly-accident#)

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Tragedy in the Sky – The Broken Heart of Texas

As a recent Heart of Texas hot air balloon rider, you can imagine the shock and devastation that went through my mind upon hearing that this same balloon with 16 passengers tragically lost their lives(Channel 2 News Reporting).

I knew the pilot as Skip. He was warm and friendly, and one could immediately tell was also very knowledgeable in his work. He gave 14 passengers, including my friends and me, a great adventure and a thrill of a lifetime ride! (Read about it here.)

As a writer and author, you may know I am skittish about heights. I knew the risk involved, but was determined to harness my fears. However, way before our flight, some warning signs gave us pause. I am sharing them now for awareness.

We all boarded two vehicles to take us to the open field when we arrived at our destination. The girls and I rode in Skip’s truck with his assistant. The rest climbed into a van behind us. It was about a 30-minute ride, and his assistant got off course; they had to rely on their GPS to finally arrive. When I asked Skip how many times he had flown over to the location where we were headed, he said it would be his first time. When I asked him why that was, he said he was bored and wanted someplace new. I have to wonder, isn’t “new’ adding more risk?

I knew Skip wanted to get us up in plenty of time before sunset. After we arrived, we watched Skip and his crew get into action, backing up the trailer and pulling all the equipment and ropes out to set up the balloon. We couldn’t help but look up each time we heard jets zooming by and wondered about the safety of what we would do. As they filled the balloon, a man approached us and asked who the person in charge was. We all pointed to Skip. That’s when we learned we did not have permission to fly over this field. Another 15 minutes or so went by with Skip and the other gentlemen arguing over sufficient insurance coverage, regulations, policies, and the buildings in the area before Skip called to shut it down and board up.

We then headed for San Marcos Airfield. Once we arrived, Skip and his crew went into action again, rushing to get that balloon up before dark. When ready, we were instructed to hop in, albeit somewhat clumsily, unable to lower a leg from the ledge of the basket down into our tight space. But once up, it became apparent that Skip was in his element. Our nerves dissipated, and the view was absolutely breathtaking!

We stayed up for about 40 minutes, watching the sunset and taking plenty of pictures. As we started to decline, Skip asked us all to be on the lookout for power lines. When we approached a post, he radioed one of his teammates asking if it was a power line. Thank goodness, it wasn’t.

In retrospect, I realize we may have bitten off more than we bargained for, and the tide of events could have easily turned against us. Perhaps if one feels or sees something as unnerving before taking action, they should pay attention to their God-given common sense.

Our hearts and prayers go out to all the family members affected by this recent tragedy.

A saddened heart,    

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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Alfred “Skip” Nichols, may he RIP.

 

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At 3000 ft – my hot air balloon ride in January 2016

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The truth behind Mary A. Pérez’s autobiography

My interview by the talented and fabulous Ella Ritchie of Stellar Communications Houston.

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Celebrating the Birthday Boy

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Happy Birthday to my hubby, confidant and best friend! You still light up my life, the wind beneath my wings.

 

 

 

 

 

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Secret of Life

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Read this wonderful story today:

On the first day of classes, our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me. She said, “Hi handsome, my name is Rose, and I am eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course, you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went.

At the end of the year, we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us.

After the introduction, she stepped up to the podium, cleared her throat, and began . . .

“We don’t stop playing because we’re old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!”

“There’s a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything, I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. Have no regrets. The elderly usually don’t have regrets about what they did, but rather for things they did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.”

At the year’s end, Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to her. She taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

These words have been passed along in loving memory of Rose:

“Remember growing older is mandatory. Growing up is optional. We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.”

In youth we learn; in age we understand. ~ Source Unknown

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July 16, 2016 · 10:48 AM

So God Made A Soldier

Duty, honor, country: Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are your rallying point to build courage when courage seems to fail, to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith, to create hope when hope becomes forlorn. They make you strong enough to know when you are weak, and brave enough to face yourself when you are afraid. ~ General Douglas A. MacArthur, 1962

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July 2, 2016 · 6:47 AM

Does Size Matter?

Something doesn’t sit right with me, and here it is. I have heard numerous times how one has to dream “big” in order to achieve something, become something, or change something. You know the old adage: Dream big or go home. I’ve come across some other sayings such as: If your dreams don’t scare you they aren’t big enough. Say what? Listen, I’ve got plenty of dreams, okay? Your dreams may not be my dreams, and I can guarantee that my dreams are not your dreams! But a dream is a dream is a dream. I just don’t buy the line, hook, and sinker that screams your dream doesn’t count or isn’t as important if it isn’t “big”! No sir! No ma’am!

Think what you will, but you can’t look down on my dream and say that yours is more important than mine. Or that my dream doesn’t count because it isn’t as”big.” Who are you to downplay my dream? Have you walked in my shoes?

When I wrote, “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace” I not only mentioned some of the heartaches I endured as a child and young adult, but I also mentioned the good times, the happy times, and the contented times. And you know what? Some looked down on those cheerful events that I wrote about because they seemed insignificant to them. Is that fair? Hey, I’m tickled pink you had a  much “happier” life than me, nonetheless, those were my good times and they meant everything to this girl. And I will tell you this: I am a dream come true.

We all have goals, and we all dream dreams. Don’t try to be like anyone else. Be yourself and follow your heart. Pursue your dreams and don’t ever quit. Timing is everything and sometimes it takes baby steps. But don’t allow anyone to downplay your dreams! Ever. No matter the size.

© M.A. Pérez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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June 23, 2016 · 7:06 PM

Father’s Day Tribute to the Men in my Family

Picture2Dad: A son’s first hero. A daughter’s first love.

The fathers in my family are affectionately referred to as Dad, Daddy, and Papi. Newsflash: None are perfect! But each one represents love, courage, provision, and strength. Their eyes glow with purpose. Their smiles melt hearts. Their chest swells with pride. Their callous hands protect. They stand tall with dignity. And their embraces offer comfort and assurance. Yes, they are the pillars of our households.

It’s said that every man is trying to either live up to his father’s expectations or make up for his father’s mistakes. I’m not sure if that’s true. I only know that each man represented in my family strives to be the very best possible. Each holds a mantle and carries a torch for the next generation. Each dad represented in my family lays a solid foundation, even those who have crossed over to the other side. I can’t help but think about my own grandfathers. They were strong, respected, dedicated men with a constant presence. They left behind a legacy. When the tough got going, they didn’t cave under pressure. They persevere with Puerto Rican pride in every fiber of their being.

To the men in my family who are dads (and have yet to be): I love and admire each and every one of you. And to my dear husband, who married me with four children, I share this quote: “It takes a strong man to accept somebody else’s children and step up to the plate another man left on the table.” I salute you.

I salute you all.

Remember: Any man can be a father. But it takes a special person to be a dad.

© M.A. Pérez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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June 17, 2016 · 6:19 AM

Metamorphosis

My family was poor.  As a child, by not owning four-legged friends, I grew an interest in the behaviors of tiny critters, such as insects. Curious at what lay beneath the ant piles, I liked to dig apart their colonies to watch the different activities of the workers, the soldiers, and the queen ant that I read about in books. I never developed a fear of grasshoppers, even if they spat “tobacco” on my fingers, or of handling caterpillars that pricked when they crawled on my hand, or of sneaking up on lizards that left their wiggling tails behind — I was too caught up wondering what the funny red thing on their throats going in and out was all about. My fascination for those critters was a favorite pastime.

Not all school projects were memorable, but I recall one that stuck with me for years. When the teacher assigned a report on any subject, I decided to pick caterpillars. On a large poster board, I drew the four stages of the butterfly: (1) egg, (2) larva, (3) pupa, and (4) adult. I described metamorphosis. Though it wasn’t a Picasso, my work earned a ranking on my school’s hallway wall, posted for all to see, with the highest mark in class: A+.

One sunny day at school during recess, I found a black, woolly caterpillar crawling in the shrubs and unafraid, gently placed it in my palm. A classmate asked to see what I held. When I opened my hand to show him, he whacked it so hard that the caterpillar flew out and disappeared onto a bush. And that’s when I morphed! Without hesitation, I slapped him on the face, hard. The boy stood stunned, mouth open.

As an adult, I often thought about the word metamorphose. It means to change completely in nature or form.

I think back to how alcohol deceived my loved ones, giving them a false sense of power. After drinking, like the caterpillar many years ago in my book report, they metamorphosed into social butterflies fresh out of their cocoon. They felt invincible, glamorous, or intelligent. Gone were the restraints that crippled them emotionally. They carried a false sense of bravado. It was then that they laughed wildly, conversed freely, and flirted openly.

The more attention and compliments they received from others, the less they knew the difference between genuine praise and mere flattery.

(A small excerpt taken from Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace. )

© M.A. Pérez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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I Don’t Know What to Do!

I don’t know what to do today.
Perhaps I’ll go outside and play,
or stay indoors and watch TV,
or take a bath, or climb a tree.

Or maybe I’ll go ride my bike,
or pick my nose, or take a hike,
or jump a rope, or scratch my head,
or play a game, or stay in bed,
or dance a jig, or pet the cat,
or drink some milk, or buy a hat,
or sing a song, or read a book,
or change my socks, or learn to cook,
or dig a hole, or eat a pear,
or call my friends, or brush my hair,
or hold my breath, or have a race,
or stand around and slap my face.

I’m so confused, and bored, and blue,
to not know what I ought to do.
I guess that I should just ask you.
So, what do you think I should do?

Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved.


I found the above humorous poem and thought about my kids when they were small. Outside of TV, the only technology we had back then was the Atari, playing games like Pong and Asteroids. Does anyone remember those? But the most entertainment for me was watching my kids’ aerobic antics while calling out to me:

“Watch me, Mommy.”

“Mommy, look at this.”

“See what I can do, Mommy?”

Today, my grown children each have individual gifting, talents, and uniqueness. I still love hearing from them whether they call, text, or email me. My heart skips a beat whenever they excel in their achievements. They still put a smile on my face. We can still laugh together.

Children grow fast. All you have to do is blink. You’ll wonder where did the time fly? Cherish those moments.

Oh, and by the way, I drew the sketch below of my kids, thirty years ago.

Wasn’t it just yesterday?

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© M.A. Perez, 2016, All Rights Reserved

About "Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace"

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