Alive
That morning, Andy had roused himself and tried to stand. His body didn't respond. His arms were sluggish, his body tapped out from the effort to stay alive. Starving, cold and weak, he was just able to roll to a sitting position. The snow had let up. I'm alive, he was thinking. Alive.
He began to see strange colors； he heard whistles and odd songs. He listened, enjoying the cacophony, until deep in his brain a pattern emerged. And he realized that someone was calling his name. From nearby.
Just half an hour into the search on Saturday, after Dean Jenicek had led them to the area where the footprints had been found, Shawn and his search team saw a trail in the snow. It has to be fresh, Shawn thought. As he dug down to look, his radio crackled. It was Dean, leading another search party nearby. Hustling to Dean's group, Shawn saw a pair of boot prints on the right. But on the left was a puzzling series of small holes in the snow. The searchers all fanned out, yelling to one another. Suddenly one of them hesitated. “Hey, do you guys hear that？” he called. They stopped, listened. Faintly, in the distance, they heard a cry for help.
Shawn scanned the hillside with binoculars. Several hundred yards up-slope, he spotted a figure sitting in the snow, yelling, pleading, calling for help.
Dean was the first to reach him. Andy was immobile but relatively lucid, cold yet conscious. The foot without the ski boot appeared badly frozen. As the group crowded around him, the teenager said he'd heard their voices but thought he was hallucinating. “Are you guys for real？” he asked.
Assessing the boy's condition, the searchers realized they'd have to carry him out. They cut away his frozen clothes and dressed him in warm, dry garments. Then they put him into a down sleeping bag and tied him onto a rubberized poncho. Following Dean's route from the day before, the men dragged Andy down and out of the forest.
Six hours and three miles later, the exhausted team broke out onto a road, where two snowmobiles were waiting. As daylight began to fade, Andy was rushed to an ambulance.
The Zellers were ecstatic about the rescue. “I was jumping up and down —— it was amazing, unbelievable,” said Eileen. Though at first doctors feared Andy might lose both legs to frostbite, in the end he lost not a single digit. His recovery was due in part to the work of Dr. Frederick S. Cramer, who used hyperbaric medicine —— oxygen under high pressure —— to treat Andy.
Andy's legs will forever be sensitive to cold. “I wake up every morning, step out of bed, and feel the pain,” he says. “And I remember, Oh yeah. I get to live today. With every step I take, I know to never give up.”
That morning, Andy had roused himself and tried to stand. His body didn't respond. His arms were sluggish, his body tapped out from the effort to stay alive. Starving, cold and weak, he was just able to roll to a sitting position. The snow had let up. I'm alive, he was thinking. Alive.
He began to see strange colors； he heard whistles and odd songs. He listened, enjoying the cacophony, until deep in his brain a pattern emerged. And he realized that someone was calling his name. From nearby.
Just half an hour into the search on Saturday, after Dean Jenicek had led them to the area where the footprints had been found, Shawn and his search team saw a trail in the snow. It has to be fresh, Shawn thought. As he dug down to look, his radio crackled. It was Dean, leading another search party nearby. Hustling to Dean's group, Shawn saw a pair of boot prints on the right. But on the left was a puzzling series of small holes in the snow. The searchers all fanned out, yelling to one another. Suddenly one of them hesitated. “Hey, do you guys hear that？” he called. They stopped, listened. Faintly, in the distance, they heard a cry for help.
Shawn scanned the hillside with binoculars. Several hundred yards up-slope, he spotted a figure sitting in the snow, yelling, pleading, calling for help.
Dean was the first to reach him. Andy was immobile but relatively lucid, cold yet conscious. The foot without the ski boot appeared badly frozen. As the group crowded around him, the teenager said he'd heard their voices but thought he was hallucinating. “Are you guys for real？” he asked.
Assessing the boy's condition, the searchers realized they'd have to carry him out. They cut away his frozen clothes and dressed him in warm, dry garments. Then they put him into a down sleeping bag and tied him onto a rubberized poncho. Following Dean's route from the day before, the men dragged Andy down and out of the forest.
Six hours and three miles later, the exhausted team broke out onto a road, where two snowmobiles were waiting. As daylight began to fade, Andy was rushed to an ambulance.
The Zellers were ecstatic about the rescue. “I was jumping up and down —— it was amazing, unbelievable,” said Eileen. Though at first doctors feared Andy might lose both legs to frostbite, in the end he lost not a single digit. His recovery was due in part to the work of Dr. Frederick S. Cramer, who used hyperbaric medicine —— oxygen under high pressure —— to treat Andy.
Andy's legs will forever be sensitive to cold. “I wake up every morning, step out of bed, and feel the pain,” he says. “And I remember, Oh yeah. I get to live today. With every step I take, I know to never give up.”