Survival (Creative Writing Class - Highland Hall 1974)

It was a cold, wintry morning in December, the day I would depart for Colorado to visit my relatives. We drove out to the airport and as I boarded the plane, a light drizzle began to fall. The stewardesses served everyone hot coffee which I gladly accepted. The plane climbed high above the clouds into the clear, blue sky.

I was pretty bored during the flight, either eating or amusing myself with a crossword puzzle. Everything was fine until the plane began to jolt around a bit. I didn't pay much attention to it because air turbulence happens all the time on a plane. I ignored it, but a minute later it happened again for a longer period of time. This aroused my interest so I viewed the earth below.

All that I saw were islands of rock in the clouds. I perceived it to be the Rocky Mountains protruding through the clouds. All of a sudden the plane began to rock back and forth violently. A tray full of hot tea fell from a stewardess onto the aisle and splattered the woman sitting in front of me. She shrieked in pain while the person next to me crossed her heart in a Catholic cross. The captain came on the loudspeaker and told us that everything was all right and to fasten our seat belts. For the first time in all my travels on jets, I felt afraid. This was due partly because the plane was rocking wildly about making me sick and one of the engines on my right began to smoke. People were screaming all around me and I heard someone yell, "The plane is on fire!" Indeed, the engine that was smoking earlier had caught on fire. I also noticed that we were descending from the sky rapidly. I listened to a man praying behind me. The plane was now only a few thousand feet above the ground. Less than 15 seconds later, we were enveloped in the storm clouds and for a brief second I saw a forest and snow falling all over the place. The pilot had managed to lift up the nose of the plane just before impact and the next instant there was a big thump as the plane hit a snowbank. I was immediately knocked unconscious.

When I regained consciousness, I felt a terrible pain in my head. All was silent around me except for the sound of the wind whistling outside. I called out but nobody answered. Was I the only survivor? The realization that I was alone proved to be more frightening than the crash itself.

I sat there for about an hour thinking about what to do. Nothing really bothered me physically except for the throbbing pain in my head which was beginning to subside. I got out of my seat and looked around. The plane had broken into two sections and dead bodies were strewn all over the place. I walked into the cockpit. Everything was all smashed up, destroying any chance of radio communications with the outside world. I felt a cold breeze chill my bones so I grabbed a down jacket from the floor and cuddled up in a corner to sleep. 

When I woke up, I felt hungry. My foot was numb from the cold. I managed to crawl around looking for food and came upon a large roast beef sandwich, a hard boiled egg and a bag of tortilla chips. The site of the food lifted my spirits and the meal gave me enough strength to stand up.

Looking outside, I was relieved to find that the storm had passed and the sun was shining brightly. I walked outside to get a better perspective of where I was. I found myself standing on a small meadow near the top of a steep mountain. I walked to the edge of the meadow and saw a large valley below. In the distance, I could faintly see smoke trickling its way up from what looked like a chimney of a house. I made up my mind that this house was going to be my destination. I no longer felt frightened because now I had a place to go.

I gathered together everything that could be useful which consisted of some food, a sleeping bag and a small tarp. I started down the mountain. The going was slow because I had to keep checking my direction. About noon, the terrain had become less steep and I found a small stream winding its way down to the valley. I decided it was best to follow the stream, so I continued on. About an hour later, I sat down to rest on the only log that wasn't covered in snow. I stared into the sky thinking about what had happened to me in one day. All of a sudden, I heard a familiar sound. A helicopter was circling the plane crash site. I jumped up, frantically waving my jacket and shouting as loud as I could but the helicopter didn't notice me and flew away. Full of despair, I continued my trek down the mountain. The sun was setting by the time I reached the valley floor.

I managed to make a decent fire and warmed my cold, aching feet and hands. Dinner consisted of three bagels, cream cheese, tomato, cucumber with onion, and a large chocolate milk. Feeling full and content, I laid out my sleeping bag and tarp. Sleep came easily because I had become very tired even though the air became steadily colder during the night. The sleeping bag felt very warm and by morning, I was too comfortable to want to get up. But I was hungry and forced myself to get up. I managed somehow to gather more wood for a fire. Breakfast consisted of a cheese omelette, two slabs of bacon, sausage, some fruit and a large hot coffee. 

After loading everything on my back, I started hiking again. From this point on, the going was easy. By lunchtime, I spotted the smoke again, this time only a mile away. I dropped everything and literally ran the rest of the way. I came to a clearing and joyously beheld a farmer and his wife staring at me curiously. My journey had ended and I felt grateful that I had made it back alive.