Sixty-seven year old with Parkinson's disease proves its never too late for skydiving

People see someone with a disability and forget there is a deep, deep person there.”

Louise Weingrod, Carol's sister

Carol Weingrod has lived with Parkinson’s disease for the last seven years, a brain condition that disrupts balance and movement. But on Friday, as the wind tunnel wafted her up and down, arms outstretched and cheeks fluttering from the rush of air, Weingrod felt a rare sense of ease. 

“It was incredible,” the 67 year old said. “I felt free.” 

Weingrod started working with RiverSpring Living a few months ago, an assisted-living facility with a program called Golden Dreams which aims to fulfill lifelong aspirations of seniors.

For Weingrod, skydiving had been a goal since she was in her twenties, and it took on an even greater meaning once Parkinson’s started to impact her mobility. Physical and occupational therapy help manage the symptoms, but she faced another challenge — how others perceive her because of her disability. 

“[Parkinson’s] doesn’t affect my mind,”  Weingrod said. “People think I’m stupid.” 

When Weingrod is in a public space and has trouble walking, people don’t treat her like a regular person, she said, as if they assume her disability defines her entirely.

“People see someone with a disability and forget there is a deep, deep person there,” Weingrod’s sister, Louise, said. 

At iFLY Indoor Skydiving in Yonkers, Weingrod left her walker at the door of the wind tunnel and carefully walked towards two instructors, who stood at the edge ready to guide her in. Decked out in a red jumpsuit, blue helmet and protective eyewear, Weingrod lifted her arms, using the airflow until she was hovering on her stomach. 

An instructor held onto her back, spinning her as he guided them upwards. Her jumpsuit and face rippled against the blast of air, revealing an expression that was as peaceful as it was fearless. At one point, Weingrod locked eyes with Louise to wave and blow a kiss. 

The sisters were born in Pennsylvania, where they recalled traveling the country with their family in a trailer, stopping at sites like Maryland’s Assateague Island National Seashore. After medical school,  Weingrod spent most of her life in Florida, building a three-decade career in psychiatry. She chose mental health work so she could help people, and did so by treating each patient with care and compassion.

Aside from Louise, Weingrod was cheered on by a few members from the Golden Dreams team at RiverSpring. Alina VandenBerg, who is also executive director of an apartment complex on campus, said the program is rewarding.

“To be there with them and see their reaction, it’s a feeling that you will not feel for anything else,” VandenBerg said. “It’s something that you have to experience”

It began in March when Wendy Steinberg, chief communications officer and founder of Golden Dreams, noticed that some residents had spent their earlier years focused on making ends meet and never had the chance to realize their dreams.  Now, Weingrod is the tenth resident that Golden Dreams has worked with. 

Before her, the program helped 85-year-old Shirley Johnson fulfill her hope of dancing again by providing a new prosthetic leg and enrolling her in a  ballroom class. Jacqueline Kimmelstiel, a 97-year-old Holocaust survivor, had always wanted to finish college. Golden Dreams created a higher education experience for her, complete with an honorary degree. 

In those moments, and for Weingrod, the women were not seen for their age or diagnoses, but instead as individuals with spirit, drive and life still to live.