Dedication

 

 

When I was ten years old, my father drove a logging truck up in the Trinity Alps. One weekend, he took me on his run up to Hyampom, and when we were on a winding road in the middle of the forest, we had a wreck. The truck tipped, dumping the entire load of logs down a steep embankment to a river. My father was uninjured, but a heavy toolbox crashed into me, resulting in broken bones and a head injury.

I was in shock and my father was afraid that I might not pull through. Back then, there were no cell phones and the radio in the truck was broken, so all we could do was wait there for the next truck to make its run. It would be at least a half day.

Rescue did come, and from a surprising source. A woman drove up in a sedan. She was blonde and pretty and really had no business being out there in the wilderness, but there she was. Like Rex, it seems I had my own guardian angel that day.

I don’t know her name, but I will always be grateful.

This book is dedicated to the rescuers.

Thank you.