From 1995 to 1998 I was lucky enough to work with an ailing killer whale named Keiko—the star of the movie Free Willy—and the staff that rehabilitated him. The Keiko project had all the makings of an epic story: there were heroes and villains, huge sums of money made and spent, complex issues and passionate declarations, organizational politics, and public and private struggles over control and recognition, often played out on the front pages and television sets of major media outlets around the world. At the center of the vortex was Keiko himself: a smart, wily, keen, silly, luminous soul that burned more brightly each month as his health was restored; and the handful of men and women who spent hours in an icy pool to swim with him, pet him, challenge him, play with him, teach him, and be taught by him. (They also joined him for the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and spent countless evenings watching television with him on a donated wide-screen TV.) From Keiko’s keepers I learned the extraordinary lengths to which good people will go—often without recognition—for the sake of the animals in their care. Keiko’s was, in the end, a love story.
When the killer whale was moved to Iceland and my part in the project ended, I thought I would write about the experience, or at least about some of the issues and conflicts it raised, but the story was simply too close. So I let the idea go and wrote Homesick Creek instead.
Then, in 2001, I stumbled upon television footage of a man named Solomon James Jr., unshackling for the last time the Asian elephant he had taken care of for twenty-two years. Her name was Shirley, and he had just transported her from the Louisiana Purchase Gardens and Zoo to the Elephant Sanctuary in Hoehenwald, Tennessee. He was struggling to maintain his composure as millions of people watched their parting on television. It was clear that theirs had been a long and complex journey. Out of this remarkable moment, and informed by my experience with the Keiko project, Samson Brown and Hannah were born.
Thus, my thanks go first to Phyllis Bell and Beverlee Hughes, two extraordinary women who allowed me to be part of Keiko’s story. I am also indebted to the men and women on Keiko’s staff who so graciously shared with me their knowledge, patience, and friendship, especially Mike Glenn, Mark Trimm, Ken Lytwyn, Jeff Foster, Karen McRae, Brian O’Neill, Tracy Karmuza, Steven Claussen, Jen and Greg Schorr, Nicole Nicassio, and Cynthia Alia-Mitchell. My thanks, too, to Earth Island Institute’s Dave Phillips, Eagle River’s Craig McCaw and Bob Ratliffe, Joe Gaskins, veterinarian Dr. Lanny Cornell, and troubleshooter extraordinaire John Scully.
In the realm of elephants I would have been lost without the elephant keepers at the Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium. Craig Wilcox, Shannon Smith, and Dr. Holly Reed gave me not only their professional insights but also a further glimpse into the depth of commitment that became the centerpiece of Sam’s character. Sally Joseph and Dr. Brian Joseph were both generous teachers and invaluable fact-checkers when this book was very new, and they saved me from untold gaffs, goofs, and errors.
My heartfelt thanks also go to Beth Basham, Caryn Casey, Richard Liedle and Debbie Coplin for reading drafts of Hannah’s Dream and giving me their thoughts and encouragement. My gratitude, too, to Kate Nintzel and her team at Harper Perennial, and to Jennifer Rudolph Walsh, Anna DeRoy, and Erin Malone at William Morris, for being Hannah’s champions.
To Jeannie Reynolds Page goes my continuing amazement at finding such a friend and supporter in the lunatic world of writing. I land in your e-mail with doubts and fears and you just know: what to say, how it feels, why I worry.
To my daughter Kerry, who is beginning to discover the magic of fiction, go my thanks for sharing your insights and revelations. The world of books and writers is lucky to have you in its midst. I hope that for you, as for me, it’s a passion that will last a lifetime.
And finally, no words can sufficiently express my love and gratitude to Nolan Harvey, my husband, teacher, supporter, guide and friend, for believing in Hannah and Sam even when I doubted them. Without you, this book would never have been.