The Suspension of Disbelief Start

David R. Rogers, The Summer of 2008

I have a good friend and business partner named Jack McCornack. Jack has been the brains behind Kinetic Aerospace, Inc., while I have handled the people end of the business. At KA Inc., he designed and we built the stunt aircraft for the James Bond thriller, “Die Another Day.” Danger is Jack’s middle name. No kidding; it really is! I’ve seen his driver’s license, and, I’ll be dog-gone, there it is. You would think that if you were a kid, your mom would make you keep your distance from a guy with a middle name like that. I can imagine my mom hollering out the back door, “Go out and play but be sure not to mess with that Danger boy.” I’d be the first one to want to touch that flame. Many people are inherently drawn to danger. It’s one of the reasons we push our limits for the thrill of victory over the agony of defeat. In your misspent youth, did you ever see who could hold onto a lit M-80 firecracker the longest? My old buddy, Three Fingers Rahilly did!

My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother.

The trick in designing a race start that includes an element of danger is to remove the potential for trauma while maintaining the illusion of drama. We pulled that off at the start to the Salute to Prefontaine in the mid 80’s---so well, in fact, that for about a decade afterwards, I still caught hell for what people thought they witnessed.

This stunt grew its roots from a race start at the Run for the Pies in Miccosukee, Florida.
Having been an archery hunter for a number of years, I thought I’d show off my prowess with a bow and arrow. That was my first mistake. I had been inspired by the greatest bow and arrow stunt of all time as I watched a true professional with ice water in his veins shoot a flaming arrow from ground level into a towering cauldron to ignite the Olympic Torch as millions watched on live television. Talk about putting it all on the line... Wow, what a tremendous shot! While my ambition for the start was far less dramatic, I folded under the pressure and missed the shot...twice! All I was trying to do was improve on the traditional “On Your Mark, Get Set, Go” by shooting a balloon that was attached to a bale of hay. After the second short range miss, I took my last remaining arrow out of the quiver, walked over to the balloon, and poked a hole in it for the start. Humility can evolve into one of life’s great learning experiences, but one must first swallow the medicating pill of pride before the healing can begin. A few years later, I missed another target at a race start when I dropped a watermelon out of my ultralight aircraft from 1200 feet and failed to hit the one acre pond below. More on that later!

A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit.

I’m no English major, that’s for sure. As a matter of fact, the language requirement in college was largely responsible for me entering the “five-different-schools-seven year-plan.” But I do remember from my algebra classes that two negatives equal a positive.

Recently, our esteemed Senator from the State of New York told the military leader of our brave soldiers fighting in Iraq that she would be required to “have a suspension of disbelief” when considering his testimony before a Senate hearing. Now wait a minute. If she suspends belief, then she would not believe what the General was saying, right? So if she suspends disbelief then it seems to me that she must be telling the General that she does in fact believe him. Am I the only American with this linguistic logic?

“What in the world does this have to do with the start of Prefontaine?” you are probably wondering. Stick with me here and I’ll try to pull this together.

To begin with, counter to popular belief, I DID NOT pick up a Jennings compound bow with a 70-pound draw weight, load it with an Easton carbon arrow tipped with a four- blade, surgically sharp Savora broad head and fire the arrow some 30 yards through the air into and through a balloon that was being held in the teeth of my loving wife. IT DID NOT HAPPEN!

This is what really occurred on that foggy September morning in the Apalachicola National Forest. We had a good crowd that was jovial and eager to test their enduring spirit on the most difficult 5 kilometer race course in the Tallahassee area. The mood soon changed as I positioned Carmen in a strategic location in front of the starting line and gave her a balloon. I then paced off thirty steps in a very deliberate manner. An inaudible hush came over the raucous crowd when I removed the compound bow from its case. Concern turned to a nervous curiosity in the eyes of the runners when Carmen blew up the balloon, placed it in her teeth, and leaned slightly forward. That collective nervousness grew to outright fear as I clumsily dropped the arrow while attempting to load it into the bow. Nearly two hundred people stood in shock as I eventually drew the arrow to its full length. “Watch the balloon,” I instruct. The next few seconds are sheer terror. Suddenly, the balloon launches from Carmen’s mouth with a Brrrrr and flies off into the woods. I carefully un-draw the loaded bow. The crowd is instantly confused. Three runners take a few brief steps thinking the race has started. A collective sigh of relief envelops the crowd as they assume I would not attempt this dangerous shot. To the amazement of the spectators, I walk over to Carmen and hand her a second balloon. Again, she blow it up, hold it in her teeth, and leans slightly forward. For the second time, I pace off the thirty steps, carefully draw the arrow, this time without dropping it, and again instruct the group to watch the balloon. After an agonizing few moments with so much tension in the air that some are considering stepping forward to intervene, the balloon is pierced by sharp steel and explodes with a bang. Even though the race is officially on, some runners just stand there in a state of suspended disbelief.

O.K. That’s what it looked like. The reality of what occurred was quite different! To begin with, I would NEVER draw a bow or any other weapon and point it at anyone, especially my wife. The runners, the target (the balloon in Carmen’s mouth), and I were positioned in a triangular fashion to make it appear that I was pointing the arrow in her direction. While I did in fact draw the arrow, I never pointed it anywhere near the target. Keep in mind, the runners were watching the balloon and were not mindful that it would have been impossible for me to launch an arrow anywhere near my wife, given the direction it was pointed. This is an absolute critical issue for me. This stunt was nowhere near important enough for me to compromise the issue of safety. Had the runners been concentrating on the shooter instead of the target, they would have likely realized that the arrow was not pointed anywhere remotely near the target.

The next illusion I’d like to dispel is that I never fired the arrow. I don’t care if it was pointed well away from my wife, there is no way I would ever sling an arrow under those circumstances. While Carmen was holding the balloon in her teeth, she also had her hands near the base of the balloon near her lips. At the proper time, after the tension in the group was near a level to induce cardiac arrest, she popped the balloon with a small pin she had in her right hand.

I have grown to appreciate that sometimes these crazy stunts have unintended consequences. For about a decade, many people remained upset and angry with me over this trick. I suppose some may still be. They simply would not believe me when I explained what really happened because they were adamant in their belief that they had seen it with their own eyes. I did not anticipate that many folks would remain convinced that I would really zip an arrow a few inches past my wife’s face. When I thought up this stunt, I assumed that everyone would realize that it was a ruse. For that unintended, long-term misunderstanding, I continue to sincerely apologize.

And so, you can be assured that I won’t try to fool you folks with bows and arrows again at any race start in the future. However, I once saw a guy in the circus strap his wife to a rotating disc and then step back and throw knives at the wooden wheel between her outstretched limbs as she spun round and round. It makes me wonder if he was throwing real knives. They sure stuck in the wood between her arms and legs. You know, I’ve been throwing knives since I was a kid. Maybe I could convince Carmen to....... Naaaw, that would require her to have a suspension of disbelief in my knife tossing abilities and she is far too sharp to get to that point.

For I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my sword save me.