Adrift Above The Clouds

Auckland Star, Volume LXXI, Issue LXXI, 14 September 1940, Page 8 (Supplement)

Adrift Above The Clouds

-MOW, look yon? smartest." 1' . . . and mind, nc cheating!" A ripple of laughtei ■went round the Old Orchard Coun try Golf Olub at Biddeforc (U.S.A.). Tlie fact that a newsreel photographer would be takinj photographs from the air, had etirrod the Hub to great enthusiasm. People were arriving from far and near to watch the game, hut particularly for the excitenicnt of seeing Sam T. Dawson, the camera man. supported by . balloons, taking liio novel "shots." "Gee, come on . . . let's hurry," raid a hoy, who had brought his chum along. "That's the guy over there." Very soon the film mart was surrounded by a crowd of interested and curious spectators. Several officials were busy fixing the 27 balloons, and the lines that were to hold them. "Say, stand back there, if you please." requested one of the men, "we've got to have room to fix this safety lino." Before long the all-important line was firmly fastened. "Now, we're ready as soon a« you are" . . . turning to Dawson, who was engrossed with his camera for a few minutes. "Okay, boys!" Of the many queer dodges he had used from time to time to get unusual pictures, this idea of perching on nothing, 200 ft up in the air, was about the strangest. "Not too tight now," he exclaimed with a laugh, as they fitted the supporting "harness" round his body. A cheer went up from the crowd as he rose quietly into the air, up, up, towed by the imposing array of bobbing balloons. "This is where we do our stuff!" exclaimed a lively young member of the golf club, posing for an instant. But the camera man was far too concerned with the job in hand to notice trifles. "Every second up here k valuable," he was thinking—"exclusive!" The sensation was rather peculiar, though. However, gripping his "up-to-the-minute" movie camera firmly, Dawson studied the finder. "'Oh . . . that's better . . . the firm will be pleased with this" . . . The prospect below looked quite satisfactory, so with a quick and confident movement the photographer commenced taking his interesting shots. Snap! a sudden lurch, the weight of his body fighting the airy lift of the balloons .-. . the sicKening shock of a child out of fits depth in deep water. . . . As the line snapped, there was a shout of dismay from those near by. They made a wild grab as it jerked defiantly upward out of reach, curling like a stockwhip. It took a few minutes longer for

the crowd on the golf course to grasp the fact that something had gone wron°\ ° "I suppose he'll float down?" Cant we do something?" To think a man must dangle in midair while thousands watched liis distress. "Not a thing!" A kind of hopeless gloom settled over the watchers. The cluster of festive balloons aloft mocked the sea of upturned faces. Were free at last," tliev seemed to be saying, "off we go to be seen no more!" Meanwhile; Dawson was having an alarming time. Who would have dreamt of anything like tins? Here was a perfectly strong and healthy man, alert and cap" able, absolutely uninjured—but poweilesg. He seerrted to be waiting, waiting—for what?

"Gee, my arms are going numb. . . Then, making an effort to grip his precious camera more firmly, "cramp . . . can't hold it!" A few seconds later the camera was hurtling to the ground, to crash among the petrified spectators. "He's- disappeared!" shrieked somebody bplow. For, with the lightening of the load, the massed balloons careered behind a lowhanging cloud. The silence and tjie loneliness were beyond belief. "I'm afraid the poor fellow has gone," said the official standing by the broken safety line, "what a tragedy 1" For hours and hours

An Exciting Tale Of An Adventurous Cameraman

they had been gazing upward, Hoping for some miracle to happen. Hidden from view, Dawson was pulled hither and thither, at the point of exhaustion. How lon<* since he left comfort and safetv? Impossible to guess. Jt might be a thousand years," thought the photographer, in a detached kind of way. Incidents of his past life, friends, relatives, floated like a picture show before him. Everything seemed so vivid. At one moment he felt as if his head were adrift in the sky, while his limbs were falling—falling. "My body's gone . . . I'm ° The thought was unfinished, "rain • . . it's raining!" "There he is!" A yell of excitement broke from the thousands still waiting on the green course. Forced down bv the rain, the fateful balloons had suddenly come into view, trailing their human burden.

,?o you think lie's gfill alive?" Hard to tell . . . poor beggar it must be slow torture." Even though from the beginning they had practically no hope of the man being saved, the crowd remained rooted to the spot, too o\ ercoine with pity and concern to move awav.

"Am I dreaming? Look! Just look over there against that blue patch of eky!" Pulling up his car \\ ith a sudden jerk, a man driving along the countrv road pointed out the unbelievable eight to his companion.

"You are not dreaming . . . my goodness, it must be that photographer chap who was to do the balloon stunt this morning."

_ "But this is terrible!'' Fascinated and horrified, they gazed skywards. "We can't leave" him like that," muttered the padre, a lightning inspiration flashing into his mind. Fhe next instant his foot was pressed hard on the accelerator and the ancient car shot forward. "Come on. . . . I'll get a gun • . . it's worth a try." At this rate you'll be home in two minutes," shouted his astounded friend, above the rattle. "If I can puncture a couple of those balloons," replied the padre, "he'll have some hope;" then, with a swift upward glance—"if I can't he's doomed."

Within five minutes the padre had his gun, and was off in pursuit of the runaway balloons. "I used to be a fair shot," he remarked quietly,, "but it's only a chance in a million I can hit that." Pulling up his ear just below the hanging film man the padre stepped out with the gun in his hand. His face \va£ calm and resolute.

"What's he going to do?" "Stop him, stop h! r n!" "Stand clear! He knows wliat he's doing," ordered the secretary. Silence. Then a eliarp report. Almost too quickly to be seen, three of the truant balloons collapsed, as the shot pierced them. Wide-eyed, the padre watched anxiously. .Then a cry of joy burst from the crowd. "He's com" ing down! He's corning down!" Slowly but surely Dawson waft dtv-oeiuling.

The great bunch of balloons had been cheated at last.

"I« he all right?" queried the onlookers, breathless with relief and excitement.

"Exhausted, but uninjured!" "W here is—that—guy—who— saved—me?" panted Sam. T. Dawson, scarcely able to believe he had reached the ground. Then, as someone pushed hie rescuer forward, "I went up for 'novel shots,' padre," he said, "but yours was the only one worth having!''