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 My younger brother Gary is a charming, humorous, articulate, romantic adventurer and warrior. He’s one of those types of men the rest of us admire and fantasize about, wishing we could be more like them. In the olden days, he would have been a Mountain Man or a Knight or perhaps even a Pirate or Buccaneer. In any era, he would always have been one of the first to cross the mountains, the wide rivers or brave the unexplored oceans. Even today, in the late autumn of his life, he’s always doing something new and interesting and he always has fun at it. We’ve had many a laugh together and shed a few tears during our lives. He’s always been my best friend and I only wish I had preserved more of our conversations and letters. What you have here only touches the surface of many of the things he’s done and places he’s been. And for all you fans of my Williard Brothers series, after reading this book you might guess that Gary is the avatar of Jason "Jumpin’ Jase" Williard, the middle brother of the three, and the aviator whose almost supernatural flying ability gets them out of many a scrape in their continuing adventures.
My brother Gary belongs to a very exclusive club. I don’t know how many other men have ejected three times from a jet fighter and lived to tell the tale, but it can’t be many. I am almost certain there aren’t enough of them around for a doctor to form a specialty for treating the backs of triple ejectees, though I suppose it’s possible. The way medicine in America operates these days you never know what they’ll come up with next.
Gary is two years younger than I am and a bit heavier and sturdier built. Mother Nature probably knew what she was doing when she made him sturdy, because he was going to need those extra muscles and bones throughout his life. I think the first time I began to realize how indestructible he was came when I was home on leave, a year or so before he joined the Marines. A friend I had met when I was stationed in Bermuda happened to be passing though at the same time, riding a big 750 Harley Davidson, the biggest motorcycles they made at the time. Shucks, maybe it’s the biggest they ever made; I don’t know anything about motorcycles. Neither did Gary. At the time, the only thing he had ever ridden on two wheels was a bicycle, but he always has been the one to tackle anything that comes along. He said he could ride it, and John was willing to let him try.
After a few minutes of instruction, Gary seated himself and rode the big bike up to the top of the hill, which had a big drop off on each side. He slowed down while getting ready turn around. He got sideways on the road, then did something wrong, like twisting the gas instead of hitting the brakes. The bike took off with that unique burbling roar so distinctive of the Harleys. I still have that perfect image in my mind, of Gary sailing off the side of the road and into the air, perfectly balanced on the big cycle, still riding. He would have been fine, except for gravity. The next image is of him falling, still seated, into the shrubs and trees below the steep drop off. A great crashing sound ensued. John and I both ran to see. I was worried about Gary, John was worried about his new bike he had hocked all his worldly goods and his left testicle to buy. Just as we got to where we could see the broken branches and shrubs where he had descended, there came Gary out of the brush, scratches and bruises galore, but pushing the bike. As soon as he got to where he had a clear path, he threw his leg over his steed and came wheeling back. He parked, set the stand, and then turned to us.
"See?" he said triumphantly, wiping blood from a cut on his forehead. "I told you I could ride it!" He flashed one of those big, sh*t-eating grins that he would come to be known for. It wasn’t something I would have tried, even though I had ridden small motorbikes in Bermuda, about the only way to get around there, but Gary hadn’t showed any hesitation at all.
All three of us brothers were sort of free spirits, but Gary was the real adventurer. He would prove this repeatedly in years to come. After retiring from the marines and spending another fifteen or so years adventuring and exploring, he and his wife Barbara settled down on forty acres out in the country west of Oklahoma City. Gary didn’t actually settle down; he just used the place as a base for trips here and there. You can read about most of them on his website, which he designed after becoming interested in computers. Here’s how the introduction goes at his website, www.videoexplorers.com .
Hello fellow adventurers! My name is Gary Bain and adventure has been a way of life for me. By design, by luck, or by fate I have experienced and survived some extraordinary challenges and events. From flying high performance jet aircraft in the United States Marine Corps to scuba diving the depths of the ocean and plenty in between, life has been a roller coaster ride for me. Around the world I have flown, skydived, scuba-dived, rode horses, explored, captained charter boats, produced movies and treasure hunted. And I haven’t even scratched the surface of the things I would like to do, places I would like to visit and people I would like to meet. Survival was the name of my game long before the television show!
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