Easter Morning 1980

(back to the story)

You couldn't imagine a more perfect Easter morning. Even at that early hour the rising sun bathed my tent with its light. Emerging, I met a brilliant blue sky. In fact, the light intensified all the colors around me from the pines to the neighboring tents to those monolithic cliff I couldn't see at all the day before.

But the sun wasn't rising in my heart. I dreaded the news the day would bring. Having not heard from David and knowing he had lost all his equipment, I couldn't help but fear the worst. I prayed for a miracle, but braced myself for heartache, as I dressed and drove to the viewpoint below El Capitan.

Besides a few birds and a whisper of a breeze, the morning was deeply quiet. I had no binoculars, so I mounted my large telephoto lens on my camera and scanned the rock face to find that alcove where David was last seen. Even with the telephoto, David was barely a speck when I saw him. But what I saw seemed to confirm my fears. He was hanging by his waist at the end of the rope. If he was alive, he would need a rescue immediately.

By now it was 6:30 am. To me the day was in full swing, but at that hour few others were even awake. I headed to the Park Service quarters and found one ranger awake. I tried to relay my information clearly, emphasize the seriousness of the situation, yet at the same time trying not to sound like a raving lunatic. I managed to convince the young ranger to go awaken John Dill, the one who would be in charge of the rescue.

Side note: I knew John Dill because the summer before David's climbing partner had heat exhaustion and they had to be rescued.

While waiting for John to get up and begin the rescue process, I returned to my campsite, packed up all my belongings and drove to the lodge to wait. The rangers picked me up soon and we drove to the meadow below El Cap. They had a huge telescope to check out the situation before deciding on a rescue. I wanted them to just take my word, but they do have procedures (to avoid the expense of an unnecessary rescue on the word of an overly distraught wife).

John got the Questar set up and looked at the alcove to assess the situation. He saw David and expressed concern that he wasn't moving by this time. He said he was more concerned about asphyxiation than the cold since he was hanging by his waist. Then he asked me if I wanted to look. (How bad could it be if he offered, right?) I was rather shocked to see David not only hanging by his waist, but his clothing had followed the course of gravity and gathered around his ankles and upper chest, leaving most of his body exposed to the elements. I knew then it was over.