Msgr. Tim Murphy remembers Central Catholic during free fall with instructor Kirk Gilbertson.
Skydive Oregon photo
Plummeting out of the clouds at 12,000 feet, Msgr. Tim Murphy had the presence of mind to bestow a blessing on a fellow sky diver. Even in a 120 mile-per-hour free fall, he’s still a priest, he figures.
“I don’t know if fun is the word I was thinking of,” he says of leaping out of an airplane.
The 69-year-old monsignor, president emeritus of Central Catholic High School in Portland, performed the stunt this month to fulfill a promise made at the school’s May fundraising auction. Donors bid more than $16,200 to watch him sky dive. The money will go to help students pay tuition.
The jump became known as “Leap of Faith.” There is talk of Leap of Faith II.
Surely, he must have had some interest in sky diving, or else he wouldn’t have gone along with the looney plan, right?
“Read my lips,” he says. “No.”
He flung himself ground-ward “purely for the good of the school.”
When it comes to sports for this priest, golf is usually about as risky as it gets.
The idea of the jump, done harnessed to an instructor, originated months ago when a colleague said she’d like to give it a try. Msgr. Murphy, in his dry-humored way, said he’d do it if she did. When news of that got out, there was no going back. Leap of Faith became all the rage among the Central Catholic community. About 200 school backers showed up to watch and joke around.
Msgr. Murphy is beyond a legend at the Southeast Portland school. He’s synonymous with the place, having been a student, teacher, principal and president. The slim man, class of 1958, still fits into his high school marching band uniform and often dons it at auctions and other events. He’s Central Catholic’s drum major writ large.
Given to crisp, pithy remarks, he makes them in abundance as he walks the halls of the school and meets with supporters.
During the weeks before the leap, Msgr. Murphy had a case of butterflies. He was getting all kinds of responses, from “You’re nuts,” to “Good for you for being so loyal.”
Also jumping were several Central Catholic graduates and staff, including Jane Murphy, sports marketing teacher and parent of an alumnus and a current student.
“I’ve always wanted to do it,” she says, confessing that her children were amazed.
On the day of the jump, at an air strip in Molalla, the tension was elongated, as low clouds forced a three-hour delay.
The priest was nervous. His colleagues could tell from his pacing and his eyes.
Despite that, the ever-spirited Msgr. Murphy wore a shirt in the Central Catholic colors and wrote “CC” on one hand and “Rams” on the other.
The plane climbed to 13,500 feet. Msgr. Murphy and his instructor, Kirk Gilbertson, scooted to the open door and dangled their feet.
Then they pushed off and wavered for a moment before getting stable.
In the cold of that altitude, they fell freely for more than 30 seconds.
At 8,000 feet, the instructor pulled the parachute and after a jerk, all went quiet.
The pterodactyl-like landing left something to be desired, as the instructor fell over the top of the priest, who had tumbled to the grass first.
But there were no injuries and the crowd roared and clapped.
The priest stood up, smiled and answered his first question: Would you do it again? Yes, he answered. Later, he explained why: “I’d hate people to say they can’t come to Central Catholic because of the finances.”
“He enjoyed the experience. I don’t know if he’d want to enjoy it a second time,” says Maureen Murphy, Msgr, Murphy’s sister.
After all the hoopla, on the way home from Molalla, Maureen reports, Msgr. Murphy made a quiet stop at a convalescent home to visit someone who is ill.
“That is one of the things that impressed me the most about this,” she says. “It’s just truly how he is as an individual.”
