JOSEPH KITTINGER

On Aug. 16, 1960, as research for the then-fledgling U. S. Space Program, Air Force Captain Joseph Kittinger rode a helium balloon to the edge of space, 102,800 feet above the earth, a feat in itself.

Then, wearing just a thin pressure suit and breathing supplemental oxygen, he leaned over the cramped confines of his gondola and jumped--into the 110-degree-below-zero, near-vacuum of space.  Within seconds his body accelerated to 714 mph in the thin air, breaking the sound barrier.

After free-falling for more than four and a half minutes, slowed finally by friction from the heavier air below, he felt his parachute open at 14,000 feet, and he coasted gently down to the New Mexico desert floor.

Joe Kittinger’s own words: At 2 a.m. we began to fill the helium balloon. At sea level, it was 35 to 40 feet wide and 200 feet high; at altitude, due to the low air pressure, it expanded to 25 stories in width, and still was 20 stories high!  At 4 a.m. I began breathing pure oxygen for two hours. That's how long it takes to remove all the nitrogen from your blood so you don't get the bends going so high so fast. I wore layers of warm clothing under my pressure suit. They kept me in air-conditioning until it was time to launch because we were in the desert and I wasn't supposed to sweat.  If I did, my clothes would freeze on the way up. 

It took an hour and a half to get to altitude. It was cold. At 40,000 feet, the glove on my right hand hadn't inflated. I knew that if I radioed my doctor, he would abort the flight. If that happened, I knew I might never get another chance because there were lots of people who didn't want this test to happen. I took a calculated risk, that I might lose use of my right hand. It quickly swelled up, and I did lose use for the duration of the flight.  But the rest of the pressure suit worked. When I reached 102,800 feet, maximum altitude, I wasn't quite over the target. So I drifted for 11 minutes.

I could see about 400 miles in every direction. The most fascinating thing is that it's just black overhead, the transition from normal blue to black is very stark. You can't see stars because there's a lot of glare from the sun, so your pupils are too small.

I was struck with the beauty of it. It was more than 100 degrees below zero, no air. If my protection suit failed, I would be dead in a few seconds. Blood actually boils above 62,000 feet. I went through my 46-step checklist, disconnected from the balloons power supply and lost all communication with the ground. I stood up, turned around to the door, took one final look out and said a silent prayer: "Lord, take care of me now." Then I just jumped over the side.

I rolled over and looked up, and there was the balloon just roaring into space. I realized that the balloon wasn't roaring into space; I was going down at a fantastic rate! At about 90,000 feet, I reached 714 mph.

The altimeter on my wrist was unwinding very rapidly. But there was no sense of speed. Where you determine speed is visual--if you see something go flashing by. But nothing flashes by 20 miles up--there are no signposts there, and you are way above any clouds. When the chute opened, the rest of the jump was anticlimactic, because everything had worked perfectly. I landed 12 or 13 minutes later, and there was my crew waiting.  

Everything that day for Joe lead up to a step of faith. He trusted his training, his team, his equipment, and most importantly his God. If Joe could take that step of faith, could you take a step of faith in the God that loves you to get you safely home? Hebrews 11:6 says "Without faith it is impossible to please God". Romans 10:13 "Whosoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved". Does it make sense to trust in something smaller than God?