Let Us Be Brave

by Linda Thompson

  LET US BE

  BRAVE

  An Alaska Story of Special Olympians Uniting to Survive

  LINDA KAY THOMPSON

  PO Box 221974 Anchorage, Alaska 99522-1974

  books@publicationconsultants.com—www.publicationconsultants.com

  ISBN 978-1-59433-445-0

  eISBN 978-1-59433-446-7

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2014934088

  Copyright 2014 Linda Kay Thompson

  All rights reserved, including the right of

  reproduction in any form, or by any mechanical

  or electronic means including photocopying or

  recording, or by any information storage or

  retrieval system, in whole or in part in any

  form, and in any case not without the

  written permission of the author and publisher.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  Acknowledgements

  To my students who have continually demonstrated incredible abilities. You have inspired and brought me great joy.

  To Penelope Anderson, a fellow parent who encouraged me to write.

  To my editor, Ann Keffer, who sifts gold out of my work.

  To Donald and Maryann Fell, Scott Fell, FAA in Homer, Kathy and Vic Martin, for the details involved in technical rescue, aviation and nautical jargon necessary for writing this survival story. I hope I got it all right in the end.

  Notes from the author:

  Each character in this book is an amalgam of different students from my 23 year career, and of the unique individuals I met while coaching Alaska’s Special Olympians. This book seeks to transcend the boundaries and limitations of “labels” placed upon these “special” individuals by society. I have learned to love and admire these courageous people, and hope this message of respect and compassion will continue to take root.

  Characters

  Helen Baranoff Pilot and coach

  Marie Baranoff Helens sister

  Billy, Patrick’s foster dad

  Nicholi Trefon

  Sam Johnson

  Lillian Ivanoff

  Patrick Daily

  Mark Wenger - FAA

  Auntie - Melinda Clark

  Harvey Clark Her husband

  Michael Vaughn – Grandson of Irene, lives in Anchorage

  Irene Vaughn - Old lady

  Danielle Foxworthy - Grandson of Irene

  Nathan Conroy, special friend of Danielle from ship.

  Matilda James, News lady

  Michael Vaughn, News man around Anchorage

  David Alto, news man from Homer for KBER

  John, crew member on Brown Bear I

  Indian Joe Trefon and wife Ruth

  KBER- TV NEWS

  Colton and Peggy - Rescue - plane search

  Diane and Jack McDonald - own Acapella III - sailing boat.

  George- friend of Mark - met in Post Office

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Flight to the Games

  Chapter 2 Irene

  Chapter 3 Now What?

  Chapter 4 Waiting

  Chapter 5 Setting Up Camp

  Chapter 6 Panic in Anchorage

  Chapter 7 Cruise Terminal

  Chapter 8 The Storm

  Chapter 9 Mark

  Chapter 10 Cruise Ship

  Chapter 11 Day Three

  Chapter 12 Acapella III

  Chapter 13 Irene Gets Lost

  Chapter 14 Day Four

  Chapter 15 Nicholi

  Chapter 16 Mark Helps—Day 4

  Chapter 17 Search for Irene

  Chapter 18 News Report

  Chapter 19 Finding More Food

  Chapter 20 Danger

  Chapter 21 News Report

  Chapter 22 Moving Day

  Chapter 23 Irene’s Day

  Chapter 24 Up the Hill

  Chapter 25 Steam Bath Time

  Chapter 26 Darkness

  Chapter 27 News Update

  Chapter 28 Ash—Living with It

  Chapter 29 News Report—Day 10

  Chapter 30 More Food

  Chapter 31 Almost to Homer

  Chapter 32 Brown Bear I

  Chapter 33 Irene in Homer

  Chapter 34 Clean Again

  Chapter 35 Plane

  Chapter 36 Mark’s Ideas

  Chapter 37 News Update

  Chapter 38 Next Low Tide

  Chapter 39 Depression

  Chapter 40 The Signal

  Chapter 41 SOS

  Chapter 42 Sinclaire Air

  Chapter 43 Across

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45 Radio

  Chapter 46 News Break

  Chapter 47 Media Blitz

  Chapter 48 Two Weeks After

  Chapter 49 Return

  Chapter 1

  Flight to the Games

  Helen stopped her four-wheeler and waited patiently for the cloud of dust she had stirred up to pass in the gentle west winds. It was only seconds after she took her helmet off before the biting white sock flies and mosquitoes found her freshly bathed body. She debated putting on bug dope, but she was flying to Anchorage in a few minutes, so decided to just endure their torture to avoid the smell of chemical repellent. She pulled up the hood of her kuspuk to slow down the attack.

  The shiny new quarter moon had just come up over the horizon. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that the weather was always more severe when the moon was full and the tides were at their high and low for the month. Nonetheless, she always checked the weather before she flew out of Pebble Lake, a mining town near the old settlement of Kanatak at the end of the Alaska Peninsula and the beginning of the desolate Aleutians.

  Deceivingly innocent, nonthreatening, puffy white clouds swiftly formed around each of the distant mountaintops. If she avoided flying close to any mountains, the flight should go quite smoothly even though she had heard a storm was brewing south of the chain.

  “Glad I’m flying you today,” she said as she approached her parked Cessna 207. She had saved up her hard-earned money from working as an Alaska commercial bush pilot for years to buy her baby. It was a beauty in her eyes, even if it was used and a little dinged up. She loved every inch of the navy and white plane, from its single engine prop to the beautiful tail flaps. It flew splendidly every time she went up.

  As she slowly and meticulously went down her preflight inspection, she noted that everything seemed in order. There were no new dings or damage from her last landing on the gravel strip in the village where she lived with her younger sister, Marie. All cables, rivets, lights, in fact everything on the exterior was fine. She checked the wing tanks for fuel and decided there was plenty. Then she boarded the plane to inspect the interior. She restored the Emergency Locator Transmitter (ELT) in the tail after the test button light appropriately went on when pushed. Everything was in perfect working order.

  A grey van drove toward her down the dry, gravel village road, stirring up a cloud of dust as it went and immersing her in a thick cloud when it stopped. She held her breath until the air cleared. Helen could hear cheering from inside the van before the doors even opened.

  “Team Pebble Lake! Team Pebble Lake! We’re the best!” was repeated twice before the doors of the van burst open. It was full of smiling faces.

  “Looks like my Special Olympics team is rearing to go win some medals,” said Helen.

  “You betcha,” yelled Marie, Helen’s sister.

  The vanload of giggling, happy athletes were bubbling with the excitement of going on a trip. Marie, Sam, and Nicholi jumped out. Lillian was slower to climb down. She always was careful. Patrick, the least mobile of the team members, sat patiently waiting for his foster dad, Billy, the driver, to climb in back to unfasten the heavy
webbed straps that held his wheelchair to the floor of the van. Once the chair was free, Billy opened the back door and pushed the button to lower the ramp for Patrick to roll onto. Soon the mechanical lift had delivered the twenty-two-year-old young man to the gravel where he sat, struggling to move, but his chair had immediately become stuck in the rocks.

  “I’m sorry you can’t use your power chair, Patrick, but it just won’t fit in my plane,” said Helen.

  “Its okay, coach. I’m just glad to get out of here for a change.”

  “Okay, my Special Olympics team, bring me your duffels. They’d better be small so they can fit,” said Helen.

  “They are, Helen. I checked,” said Marie.

  The team members unloaded the duffels and put them next to the rear door.

  “Sam, you in first. Back seat,” Helen said.

  The blond, stocky, nineteen-year-old weightlifter climbed in and put his seat belt on. Helen checked to make sure he secured it correctly. “Good job, Sam. You got it right.” Sam gave her a loving smile and caressed her cheek with his hand as she retreated out the door to make room for another athlete.

  “Nicholi, you next,” said Helen.

  Nicholi walked right up to Helen and stood too close, in her space. “Excuse me. May I ask you a question? Are we going to Anchorage?” he asked politely.

  Helen stepped back so she could see him clearly. “Yes, we’re going to the Special Olympics State Games.”

  “Excuse me, but are the games in Anchorage?” he asked again so he’d feel acknowledged, comfortable, and safe.

  “Yes, Nicholi. We’re going to Anchorage,” Helen replied kindly. “Hop in now.”

  The tall, slightly chubby, fifteen-year-old Indian boy climbed in and secured his seat belt independently. Helen chose not to check. She had heard it click and knew she could trust him to fasten it correctly.

  “Ya know, these bugs are sucking my blood. Am I soon gonna be a skeleton?” asked Nicholi.

  “No, you’ll be just fine.” Helen smiled and gently closed the door.

  “Lillian, your turn. You need to climb in first.”

  The 85-pound, 28-year-old Aleut young lady tried to get in but was too short. Billy gingerly picked her up and set her feet securely on the floor. Lillian sat on the seat, then scooted over to her side and fastened her belt without being told. Though she rarely spoke, she often surprised people with her hidden abilities.

  “Okay, Patrick, your turn. I’ll release your feet from the safety straps,” Helen said.

  Billy released the waist belt and the two double-lifted him up into the seat of the plane. Helen grunted during the lift. “Patrick, you have got to go on a diet. You must have gained weight since the last time I picked you up!”

  “I’m working on it. Working on it, I swear! I swam five laps during swim practice in the school pool this week. It was too cold, but I did it.”

  “Good! Keep it up. I was joking about your weight. You’re perfect,” she said as she secured his seat belt and made sure he was comfortable.

  Billy pushed the chair to the back of the plane, and Helen opened the back door again. Billy easily folded up the chair and lifted it in.

  Helen started loading all the duffels around the chair and secured everything with a cargo net and tie-down straps. “It’s not going anywhere,” she confidently said. She closed and secured the door to the plane after glancing again to check that Nicholi and Sam were still tightly seat-belted.

  “Hop in, Marie.”

  Twenty-three-year-old Marie had flown as Helen’s co-pilot for years. Whenever they wanted to go shopping in Naknek, they hopped in the Cessna and flew north. Helen always made sure she had a delivery of one sort or another to cover the expense of the gas, but to Marie, a shop-a-holic, it was always a spur of the moment shopping spree that she loved. They had little money to spend in the high-priced bush stores, but ownership was meaningless to her anyway. It was looking at all the different items on the shelves that made shopping fun. Helen made sure Marie had all she really needed. Everything else was “eye candy,” or “junk,” as Helen would say.

  “See you tomorrow at the games, Billy,” Helen called as she climbed up into the cockpit. “You’re staying at the Marriott by the UAA campus, right?”

  “You bet. Wouldn’t miss it.” Billy climbed into the grey van, waved at everyone, and slowly drove away in a dusty cloud.

  Helen settled into her seat and put on her headset, as did her little sister. She waited until the air cleared before she started the engine of the plane. Once it was warmed up to her satisfaction, she started to taxi forward, taking her time. Before driving on the landing strip, she double-checked that the controls (tail) and wings flaps were working properly and then checked the sky for any approaching planes.

  “All clear to me, Helen,” Marie said as she scanned the sky, mimicking her sister.

  “Same here.” Helen taxied down to the west end of the runway and turned the plane to face the east. Wow, she thought, taking note of the windsock flapping in the easterly breeze, the wind has changed all of a sudden.

  “Anyone see any planes coming?” Helen called out to her team over the droning engine noise. She craned her neck in all directions, looking for approaching aircraft.

  Patrick and Marie responded immediately: “Nope.”

  “Then off we go to a wild weekend in Anchorage. Passengers, it’s going to be a bit noisy now, but don’t be afraid. It’s normal,” she said in a very professional voice.

  She put on her headset and adjusted the fuel intake throttle for take-off and released the brakes. The plane started rolling, bumping, shaking, and in general sounded like it was going to vibrate to pieces before they could get off the gravelly dirt. The bugs that had been biting, stinging, or leaching blood out of everyone suddenly ceased their physical attacks. They were hitting the vibrating glass windows in a fruitless effort to escape. They seemed to want out of the plane, as if they thought the trip was doomed even if the eating was good. The plane gained speed and started to lift a little, touched down for one more second, and then gradually up and away they flew.

  The athletes had their faces glued to the windows, looking out. The tundra lakes glistened in the sunlight like jewels below. The lime green grass and vegetation were sprinkled with occasional short, spiky, black spruce trees.

  “Bear!” yelled Nicholi.

  Everyone craned their necks to try to see the big peninsula brown bear as it rambled down the shore of a large lake.

  “Look, Helen, two cubs too!” Marie exclaimed.

  “Hey, over there—caribou!” yelled Patrick. “I wonder if Billy knows they’re there. Can we radio him their location, Helen?”

  “And let the whole village know where they are? I don’t think so. We’ll call on the phone when we land.”

  Speaking into her headset, Helen said, “Homer Radio, this is Cessna 2-0-7 Lima Tango.” She secretly hoped Mark, a man she admired, was working.

  A clear, soothing male voice came over the radio. “This is Homer Radio calling Cessna 2-0-7 Lima Tango.”

  “Homer, we just departed Pebble Lake, and are now flying north over Shelikof Strait, headed for Anchorage. Please give me the updated weather for our destination.”

  “2-0-7 Lima Tango—Homer—current weather: wind calm; visibility one zero miles; ceiling, thirty-five hundred broken; temperature eight” (degrees centigrade); “dew point five; altimeter two niner niner four.”

  “Thank you, Homer; Cessna 2-0-7 Lima Tango out,” said Helen.

  “Hey, he sounds cute. Helen, can we go to Homer and pick up some fresh halibut and scallops to take to Auntie in Anchorage? We could check out that guy,” said Marie, her eyebrows going up and down as she pointed at the radio.

  “His name is Mark. Sure, why not. Auntie would love it. Okay with everyone?” said Helen.

  There was a united “Yeah!” from the team.

  “Oh, Marie, you’ve already got a boyfriend. You need to find a guy for Helen. Maybe you
can check out that Mark guy on the radio for her?” said Patrick.

  “Fat chance of that. Mark’s locked up in his tower, the flight service station, chained to his radios and computer,” said Helen. “I rarely see him when we’re in Homer.”

  “But you know his name! Is he cute?” Marie said suspiciously.

  Helen tried to ignore the conversation and focus on the plane. She had found Mark to indeed be cute, handsome, even a catch, but she didn’t think he was interested in her. She had caught him watching her at the last contra dance she had been to at the Homer Middle School gym, but he never asked her to dance. Maybe he thought she was a lousy dancer. Besides why would any sensible man be interested in a girl pilot that had to take care of her adult special needs sister? She figured she was always going to be single. That was the life she was meant to lead.

  “Well, if you can’t find a boyfriend, maybe Marie can for you,” Patrick said with his eyes rolled up and a smart-alecky look on his face. “If you didn’t know it, Marie’s quite the flirt. Did you see her at the last Special Olympics Victory Dance? She had three guys swarming around her like bees on honey. Your sister knows how to reel them in.”

  “I didn’t know I had two cupids in my airplane. Go ahead and shoot your arrows. I could use a little help,” said Helen. The truth was Helen had been admiring Mark, the FAA guy, for months. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but he was often on her mind when she flew and heard his voice. Every time she saw him at various events, her heart raced and she could feel her face turning red. She didn’t even know if he was married, but she had noticed he never was with any other women. Marie was right; he did have a wonderful radio voice, but he also seemed to be a truly nice young man, and he looked about her age.

  As they proceeded north, the ground changed from almost all lime green grass to dark patches of spruce with medium green willow and birch. There were no trees in the village where Helen lived, and she missed them. She loved a wood fire during the long winter nights.

  The plane was traveling at a safe high altitude and all was going along just fine. They passed around one puffy white cloud after another and stayed far from the mountains of the Alaska Range where the rising air currents were always a hazard on beautiful sunny days, so no worries. Then, suddenly, they were engulfed in a fast-rising dark grey cloud, one Helen couldn’t avoid. It was like they were being sandblasted with fine rocks. They passed through it, seemingly unharmed except the windshield was pitted and suddenly difficult to see through clearly.