It was a beautiful spring day on Mt. Hood, Oregon. I went for one last run, my husband Tom, went to the bar. My memories from here on out come to me in snapshots. I remember entering the steamy, packed bar. I see Tom’s beautiful profile, people huddled in his glow as usual. One of the crew called out, “Get her a drink, she just did the Glade Trail!” I am hungry and want to go home. Blank.

The second snapshot is a big glass filled with gold wine. Blank again. In the third snapshot, Tom and I are loading into the car. Always a gentleman, Tom opened my door. He is the designated driver. But from the passenger seat, I watch as he weaves around the front of the car, losing his balance several times. It’s not the ice. He’s drunk. In the final snapshot of the day, we are backing out, Tom is at the wheel.

The Day of and Life Before

The Day of and Life Before