A Wall of White: The True Story of Heroism and Survival in the Face of a Deadly Avalanche
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About this ebook
In 1982, at the Alpine Meadows ski resort near Lake Tahoe, an unforeseeable confluence of natural events created the conditions for an unimaginable disaster. Millions of tons of snow flowed into the ski area and parking lot beyond, engulfing unsuspecting vacationers out for a walk as well as resort employees working in spite of the danger, killing seven and leaving one victim buried alive under the snow.
At the center of this wrenching tale of human versus nature is ski patrolman Larry Heywood and his team, who heroically searched for a young woman trapped for five days underneath the suffocating snow—a tale of survival that is itself an exploration of the capacity of courage.
A Wall of White is the quintessential American story—a testament to the unwavering dedication of a band of rebel rescuers, driven only by a commitment to saving lives, battling not just extreme conditions but seemingly impossible odds.
Jennifer Woodlief
Jennifer Woodlief is a former reporter for Sports Illustrated. Her first book Ski to Die: The Bill Johnson Story (2005) was optioned by Warner Brothers with Matthew McConaughey to play Bill. A graduate of Stanford University and UCLA School of Law, her past jobs included prosecuting first-degree murder cases as a district attorney and working as a case officer with top secret clearance for the CIA.
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Reviews for A Wall of White
60 ratings23 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I thought the author spent too much time on the biographies of everyone. Once she finally got to the avalanche it was quite well done.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5I wanted to really like this book. But I didn't.Jennifer Woodlief tells the story of the 1982 avalanche at the Lake Tahoe ski resort of Alpine Meadows. She chronicles the stories of the victims of the avalanche and those left to conduct the rescue and recovery efforts. A ten day storm left 14 fourteen feet of snow on the resort's slopes. These are slopes that already had some unstable layers of snow. When they finally let go, a wall of white destroyed the base lodge and covered the parking, burying most of those in the area. A few years ago I had a great time snowboarding in Lake Tahoe. After spending most of my snowboarding days on the blue ice of the east coast, that deep snow in Tahoe was intoxicating. But each morning we waited at the base, listening to the explosives go off trying break loose any unstable snow. We don't have avalanches back east. We don't get that much snow and don't have much wide open terrain above treeline. So I appreciated the work of the snow patrol as they made all that wonderful snow safe for me to enjoy. I also saw an avalanche first-hand during my climb of Rainier. Fortunately, it was off in the distance. But we heard the roar and saw the destructive power of that snow fracturing and streaming down the mountain.With that, you can see my interest in the book.There were some good parts of the book and some very moving passages. As you might guess, not everyone survives. Most of the book is spent giving the background stories of the people, why they ended up on the mountain and where they ended up just before the avalanche. The avalanche itself takes just a few minutes. The ensuing rescue and recovery takes a few days.I had trouble keeping track of all the people she included it the story. The portraits seemed to merge together into generic skiers of the early 80's and stereotypical ski bums. There are some interesting characters but it is easy to lose track of them. parts of the book seem to be in the wrong places.With good editing and another draft of the book it could have been pretty good. In the interest of full disclosure, Atria Books sent me an advance proof in the hopes that I would review the book.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is the incredible true story of the fateful, historic avalanche that occurred at Alpine Meadows ski resort, Lake Tahoe, California, on March 31, 1982. This book is absolutely fever pitch from the first pages to the last ~ telling the tale of an incredible, devestating event brought to vivid and horrifying life. The author does a great job with all the material. I really like the way she humanized all the people involved in the tragedy first, everyone from vacationers, lift operators to the renegade avalanche patrol guys; and the leaders of the resort. In addition, the history, formation and science behind the avalanches peculiar to the Sierra area (and avalanche avoidance/control) are all very well written and hugely interesting. The lives these "avalanche patrol" guys live will, risking their lives each day, is really quite amazing. I had not yet read a book where I found myself gritting my teeth and clutching the book so hard (although Skeletons on the Zahara came close). I love true life drama, adventure, rescue and tragedy anyway, but still, this is a real standout in the genre. I felt enormously glad to be at home and warm while reading this book. My only small complaint is some of the foreshadowing is a bit too repetitive and overdone. But the flipside to that is so many very precise events/factors had to come into play, both in the people's lives and the formation of the avalanche to make it what it was ~ the worst avalanche the country had ever seen. I surmise that the author was just trying to stress that. Highly recommended.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5It's surprising how much information Ms. Woodlief was able to recover about this event almost 30 years again in a pre-Internet, pre-cell phone era. People involved in the calamity were helpless to save themselves. Her description of what happens to a person caught in an avalanche was harrowing. Note on the binding: the paper covers refuse to stay flat, very annoying.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Despite the draw of the disaster, A Wall of White provided more of a catalog of the people present and impacted by the 1982 Alpine Meadows avalanche than a telling of the event itself. Woodlief’s narrative bogged down early with deep backstories on an unwieldy array of resort staff and visitors. As the chapters continued, the story of the avalanche and the rescues that followed was increasingly engaging and a worthy tribute to those involved.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Like watching heavy snow fall, "A Wall of White" by Jennifer Woodlief inexorably builds, flake by flake and sentence by sentence, towards the tragedy that unfolded at Alpine Meadows California in 1982 when a catastrophic avalanche obliterated much of the mountain’s ski area base. The sense of doom is almost suffocatingly palpable, as Woodlief introduces us to, and makes us care about, the people who would be caught up in that day’s events. She also does an exemplary job of explaining snow science and avalanche control to the layman. Stylistically, Woodlief’s book almost feels as if snow is accumulating. You have the urge to run away before it slides, but can’t escape what you already know will be disaster. And, as always, you can’t help but ponder fate, and the seemingly inconsequential acts that, in review, marked a narrow ridge between life and death. If I had one difficulty, it was that the (necessarily) large number of individuals involved was somewhat confusing, and ultimately, I couldn’t place several of them, including the person whose survival made national headlines – a story that I still recall, well over 25 years later. Part of that may have been my inability to put the book down – I rushed through the pages to see what would happen next. Bottom line: "A Wall of White" is extremely well-written. How Woodlief untangled complex, chaotic events and wove them into a fascinating, coherent story is a testament to her writing prowess, and a tribute to the unforgettable people involved in this tragedy. Highly recommended!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5After Junger's 'The Perferct Storm' and Krakauer's 'Into Thin Air' did we need another in this well-mined vein? The answer is decidedly YES. Woodlief does a great job in drawing you into the lives of the participants so much you can touch the snow. I couldn't get through the book fast enough because I was so wrapped up in how it would be resolved. I love the technical info as well. But above all else is the human drama so ably told. I graduated from college in 1982 and will forever think of that year for the events at Alpine Meadow after reading this book.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5i really struggled to get through this book.i generally fly through this type of non-fiction, but this just didn't do it for me.i got lost in what seemed like excessive and choppy character development early in the book. the author didn't even get to the actual avalanche until almost half way through. by that time, my interest had waned. the story, if better presented, would have been a page turner. unfortunately, this wasn't the case here.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area I had an interest in learning more details about the tragic events of March 31, 1982. In the first 50 pages alone I flip flopped between reading on or just giving up more times than I care to say. The people were hard to stay connected with and follow. The flow was choppy and I struggled to stay engaged. I appreciated the detail and educational components surrounding avalanches and ski resort operations but it wasn’t until Bridget the rescue dog was introduced that I was able to stick with the story. In the end I did shed some tears and am thankful for having spent some time with this story, but my respect for the tragedy and my reverence for those impacted cannot sway my opinion of the poor structure and flow of this book.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5"A Wall of White" is a good read, balancing technical detail with well-wrought portraits of the involved parties. I particularly appreciated the period snapshots, many by the victims themselves. A larger map of the area- the resort and the slide area with diagrams- would have been helpful to visualizing the events. I had difficulty picturing more than the parking lot and front of the lodge. The information on the establishment of ski patrols and avalanche control was interesting. It's one of those aspects of life we take for granted. Overall, an excellent reminder that control of our lives is illusionary.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book surprised me. It was a little slow to get started, but after the first couple of chapters I got to like the characters. I was pretty sure I knew what was going to happen through out the book, but I was never completely sure. Even if I had been, I liked the characters enough and was so thoroughly engrossed that I had to know exactly what happened. The descriptions provided by the author, while hard to imagine, are very personal and vivid. I enjoyed this book and couldn't put it down once I reached the last chapters
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Having grown up in Tahoe City this was a must read for me. Although this avalanche happened before I was born I had heard about it, just not in detail. The whole book was a little spooky to me when she described all the background stories of everyone involved becasue while reading it you just know some of them are going to die. I thought it was a great explaination of how avalanches happen, how they kill people, and how ski resorts try to control them. I liked how all that lead into telling about the actual avalanche itself and the aftermath. Even though I knew that Anna survived I still found myself very excited and happy when they found her. I'd recommend this book to anyone who has ever skied in the Tahoe area or has an interest in avalanches, it is a quick read and you probably won't be able to put it down!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I always enjoy an entertaining and informative non-fiction, and this book did not disappoint. The book is a moving story that follows the lives of characters involved in an avalanche in the 80s at a Lake Tahoe ski resort. The character information that the author provides is touching, sometimes a bit too fluffy, and before you know it you are hoping with all your might that all of the characters miraculously survive this snowy ordeal. And speaking of ordeals, before being educated by this book I had no idea how powerful and devastating an avalanche can be. Woodlief provided readable scientific information about the causes and effects of avalanches, and it will make you look at the seemingly innocuous snowflakes in a different way.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5On March 31, 1982, a devastating avalanche occurred at Alpine Meadows, a ski resort near Lake Tahoe, Calif. High on the mountain, a quarter-mile-long fracture sent a wave of snow 800 feet down the slope. The destructive energy of the avalanche didn’t dissipate until it had torn apart the resort’s operation center — the Summit Terminal Building — as well as ending seven lives.Jennifer Woodlief’s A Wall of White takes readers into the days before and after the avalanche. Woodlief’s strengths as an author lay in her ability to detail complete characters who readers quickly become invested in. Members of the ski patrol are presented both as adventurous mountainmen who love their job throwing dynamite as avalanche prevention and as heroes who likely put their own lives at risk to find their friends under the snow. Although knowing the outcome makes it easy to point out mistakes made by visitors to the resort caught in the avalanche, Woodlief’s characterization also makes it easy to understand the decisions taken on March 31 and for readers to feel they may have made the same decisions.Every one of the seven killed become fully realized portraits. The jacket copy lets readers know one woman is pulled from the debris 5 days after the disaster, so readers are aware the people they’re beginning to care about don’t make it out. Still, the yearning is there to issue a warning, to see a father and daughter turn back from their journey, to direct the rescuers to the right spot just in case a way exists to save those lost.Woven into the character-driven narrative are facts about avalanches in general — what causes them, what it feels like to be caught in one — and the Alpine Meadows avalanche in particular. On March 26, the snowpack was 87 inches. By March 30, 64 more inches fell; 25 more inches on March 31. At the time of the avalanche, estimates put the snowpack at 145” and wind gusts at up to 120 mph. Snow was falling at or over 1”/hour from March 29 through April 1. The resort itself becomes a character as Woodlief draws a clear picture of its history and its staff.Readers learn about the basics of avalanche control as the ski patrol uses its howitzer and dynamite to safely bring down risky areas of snow. In the brutal conditions, their efforts have no effect on the snow. Some of the patrol were headed to the neighboring Squaw Valley resort to try prevention measures from the backside when the avalanche hit.The avalanche occurs about 60% of the way through A Wall of White. By that time, readers are caught up in the individual stories of the participants. The turning of the pages is like the ticking of clock counting down to tragedy. Not everyone in the Summit Terminal Building died. Woodlief uses the accounts of the survivors to place the readers inside the avalanche, legs and arms trapped by the hardening cement an avalanche becomes. Readers can almost hear the sudden silence after the roar of the avalanche ends and the creaking of broken buildings.With its mix of characterization and avalanche lore, A Wall of White may remind some readers of Sebastian Junger’s A Perfect Storm. Similarities exist, but because Woodlief was able to speak to people present at the time of the avalanche and use, her book draws readers into a tragedy rather than a mystery.The book doesn’t lose momentum when the focus shifts to rescue and recovery efforts. The patrol members headed to Squaw Valley returned, only to find almost all of their rescue equipment gone. It was housed in the destroyed Summit Terminal Building. Equipment inside was swept out into the parking lot, which was buried under 10 to 12 feet of snow and debris.Woodlief again educates readers about avalanche rescue. She discusses the proper use of avalanche beacons and avalanche probes, but the lessons aren’t didactic paragraphs of exposition. She uses the frustration of the patrol to explain the futility of probes when a probe is just as likely to hit spare clothing stored in employee lockers as a survivor. Readers, like the rescue team, have already learned air pockets will ice over from a survivor’s breath, shutting off any oxygen travelling through the snow. As the hours and days pass after the avalanche, readers are still involved in the story, hoping against hope for rescue not recovery.A rescue dog is the first to alert those on site to the possibility of a survivor. Anna Conrad had been trapped in the employee locker room under furniture and tipped over lockers. The debris built a shelter over her, protecting her from the crushing weight of the avalanche, but severely injuring her and leaving her with only melting snow to drink. When she is pulled from the wreckage on April 5 and loaded on a medical helicopter, readers feel the rescue team’s exhilaration and relief.Throughout the book, Woodlief hits all the right notes. Her pacing drives the readers to the avalanche without sacrificing the portraits of those involved in the disaster. The pauses to inform readers about avalanches are brief and serve the overall story.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This review refers to an advance copy of the book.Overall, this was an engaging and moving story. Although I am an avid skier, I had never heard about this avalanche. The photographs of the places and people involved were great, and the book benefits from having included them. The explanations of an avalanche were just right (not overly technical, and enough to help the reader understand how they occur, without being boring). The portraits of a few of the individuals involved were a just bit overly drawn-out at times, and I felt that some of this content could do with some editing tweaks. My biggest gripe with the book is that a much better schematic of the resort needs to be included! There is a picture of a resort map with the avanlanche area shaded, but you can hardly read any of the wording on it. There are extensive descriptions of the resort in the book, but it would be so much easier for the reader to picture everything if a full-page, legible schematic was included. Also, it would be helpful if a litte index of the individuals was included (as I had to occasionally page back to remember who certain people were).The author mentions a trial that was associated with the death of some of the resort guests. I found myself craving more information about the trial. I also found myself wanting to know what some informed outside opinions were about the incident and the avalanche control in general at the resort at the time. The book reflects largely the opinions of resort employees and guests, and while well-researched, it would be good to include some views from those who were outside the immediate situation, in order to lend some perspective.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5An avalanche overtook Lake Tahoe in 1982. It brought seven people with it. As I read this book, I was instantly reminded of Ted Conover's similar book, "Whiteout." It's another unfortunate story of, "What in the world would you do in this situation?" Luckily a team of five people ultimately dug out one survivor. The clarity with which this book was written was remarkable. Though I have never skiied, I felt myself not only learning more about what danger there is in living in such a snow filled climate, I also found myself in the story. I highly recommend this book for a fast paced, unbelievable read.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Please note, this review refers to an ARC of “A Wall of White.”This book tells the story of the devastating Alpine Meadows avalanche in March 1982. “A Wall of White” is written in a very similar style, a journalistic style, to “Into Thin Air” which covered the Everest disaster in 1996. In this reader’s opinion, it started off a little slow and I believe that some of the first 10 chapters can easily be reduced in size or eliminated entirely since it acted as a setup for the parts to follow. The second half of the book, which focused on the avalanche and the rescue attempts, was a much faster pace and was quite pleasant to read.However, while I enjoyed reading “A Wall of White,” I did find the sheer amount of names, who they are, and how they were related to the situation to be a little confusing at the beginning and, at one point, I was considering whether to take a piece of paper and write this information down. That made it a little difficult to follow. If you are considering reading this book, you may also be interested in books such as “Into Thin Air.”
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5"A Wall of White" by Jennifer Woodlief chronicles the events of the avalanche of March 31, 1982, that killed seven people. Ms. White does a good job in explaining how avalanches occur and the truly devastating nature of them. Interspersed are details into the lives of the people who were affected by the avalanche. These stories were important in order to care about what happened to them, but I felt the way they were presented detracted from the flow of the overall narrative. A good read if you are interested in stories about overcoming and surviving horrific natural disasters.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Wall of White is the reconstruction of the tragic avalanche that swept Alpine Meadows Ski Resort in California on March 31, 1982. Jennifer Woodlief obviously spent a great deal of time researching this book and the result is a wonderful tribute to the seven people that died that day as well as to the community that fought to find survivors.The first half of the book introduces all the main characters, colorfully portraying their quirks and passions. There are so many persons involved though, that I found this cumbersome and couldn’t really keep them all straight until the end. Interspersed with these character portraits are fascinating chapters on the different kinds of snow, descriptions of the conditions ripe for avalanches, how ski patrols try to preemptively combat avalanches, and the evolution of search and rescue dogs. I would have enjoyed even more about these topics. I was struck by the difficulty coordinating communication during this tragedy, especially minus the immediacy of cell phones. And, of course, the role serendipity plays -- how just a few minutes can totally change the course of someone’s life. Quite a good read!
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5A Wall of White is an account of the 1982 avalanche at Alpine Meadows Ski Resort in California on March 31 that killed seven people. The author Jennifer Woodlief introduces us to to a cast of characters in the first half of the book. The last one-hundred pages are what happened during and after the avalanche. I found the writing uneven. The huge cast of characters a bit cumbersome and I would have liked more information on avalanches. The book is being compared to Jon Krakaur's Into Thin Air and Sebastian Junger's The Perfect Storm but I heartily disagree. Both of those books kept me riveted and they interspersed information, characters and events in such a perfect dance as to make them almost perfect reads. While A Wall of White is highly interesting at times it is not in the same class. Jennifer Woodlief is obviously an excellent researcher and I will be watching to see what's next.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is the story of a deadly avalanche that took place on March 31, 1982 in the Alpine Meadows Ski Resort near Lake Tahoe, California. Woodlief does an excellent job, giving the reader the whole picture of what happened, how it happened and who it happened to. If you like books by Jonathan Karakauer and Sebastian Junger, you will like this book. Woodlief not only tells us about the jobs of the members of the ski patrol and the other employees of the resort, she makes them come alive by giving us a glimpse into their lives and motivations. She does the same for the vacationers who were killed. The result is that the reader is truly moved.The avalanche was the result of something similar to "The Perfect Storm" where all the factors combined to make it truly catastrophic. Woodlief educates the reader about the weather factors, the kinds of snow, the amount of snow, the terrain and the human efforts to prevent what did happen. She then describes the truly heroic actions of all the the rescuers to find the victims, and the joy in finding one of the victims alive after five days of searching.The book reads like a suspense novel -- I picked it up and read it in one sitting, unable to put it down. I highly recommend it.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I am a big fan of such books as The Perfect Storm and Into Thin Air, so when Jennifer Woodlief's A Wall of White arrived in the mail, I jumped right into her book. And I was not disappointed. Woodlief's true life account of a deadly avalanche near Lake Tahoe, California in 1982 in a real page-turner.Woodlief spends considerable time setting up all the players (or characters) in the book, so that as readers, we get to know each and every one. Furthermore, she outlines the history of avalanches -- describing in painful details what it is really like to get caught in an avalanche. It is obvious from each and every word that Woodlief really did her research. My only complaint about this book (and it's a small one) is that the second half of the book which details the rescue attempts made at Alpine Meadows Ski Resort is rather rushed. I put down her book feeling a bit winded and wanting more. But perhaps that is not the sign of a rushed work -- but a great read.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In the spirit of Sebastian Junger ( A Perfect Storm) and Jon Krakauer ( Into Thin Air) Woodlief documents the tale of North America's deadliest avalanche and the people caught up in its path. This is a very fast read that covers a lot of ground. We learn about the early days of avalanche science and the beginnings of the National Ski Patrol and Rescue Dog Operations. We meet ordinary people destined for a collision with catastrophe. We see again that simple everyday decisions will alter the fate for many. I loved the first two thirds of the book but wished the rescue attempts and aftermath were given even more attention. Overall a fascinating read that I highly recommend.
Book preview
A Wall of White - Jennifer Woodlief
ONE
It was snowing as hard as it could possibly snow.
Larry Heywood, assistant patrol director at Alpine Meadows in 1982
It was around 5 a.m., just before daybreak, when Larry Heywood pulled into the Alpine Meadows parking lot on March 31, 1982. The multi-day snowstorm would finally force the ski area to shut down entirely that day, but open or not, as assistant patrol director at the resort, Larry was one of the few employees who still had to report to work.
The blizzard had hit the Sierra Nevada the previous Saturday evening, and it had been snowing steadily—and hard—for the past four days. With two to three feet of new snow falling daily, by that Wednesday morning the storm had dumped nearly seven and a half feet of new snow on top of an existing 89-inch base.
Most of the roads were impassable because snowplows were unable to keep ahead of the snowfall, and the tourists up for ski vacations were more or less trapped in their rental houses and condos. Larry’s big old turquoise Jeep Wagoneer, nicknamed Gus because that’s what the random letters in the license plate happened to spell, had made it, barely, from his home on Lake Tahoe’s West Shore to Highway 89 and then down the three miles of Alpine Meadows Road that dead-ended at the ski area. Between the road conditions and the fury of the blizzard, Larry had been creeping along at maybe six mph. He spent much of the drive with his door open, craning around it to try to see where the road was and if anyone else was on it.
On his way to work Larry had picked up Thom Orsi, a member of the ski area’s trail crew. Thom, who had spied crocus bulbs beginning to bloom in his yard the previous Saturday, trudged down to the street that morning on top of the snowdrifts in his driveway, with his car, unseen, buried somewhere beneath him. As they headed toward the ski resort, the drive was oppressive, almost claustrophobic. Maneuvering his Jeep in a virtual elevator shaft of snow, Larry asked Thom to keep an eye out for avalanche activity on the slopes above them. You see anything moving,
Larry told Thom, you scream.
Thom spent the remainder of the trip—in the dark, in a near whiteout—clearing off his foggy window and gaping up at the snow-drenched mountains.
Two days earlier, Alpine Meadows had closed the upper part of the ski area, and the previous day, it was running only the three lowest chairlifts for the benefit of a dozen or so skiers. The lifts high up on the mountain, leading to the advanced runs, were swaying too much in the shrieking winds to be operated—ironically, skiers who were hard-core enough to ski despite the storm had access to just the shortest, easiest slopes.
On the thirty-first, the intense snowfall—several new inches continued to fall every hour—combined with winds gusting up to 120 mph, made it too risky for the resort to operate at all. The acres of existing snow up on the ridges above the ski area remained poised and still, piling higher and building up ton by ton with new snow. As fresh snow fell, the violence of the southwesterly wind whipped it across and down, cross-loading the mountain and transporting more snow to the lower slopes. On top of that, the freakishness of the fluctuating temperature over the past few days helped add up to one unstable snowpack. The virtually unprecedented mix of these particular elements resulted in the U.S. Forest Service snow ranger station, as well as Alpine Meadows’ own avalanche forecaster, issuing a warning that the level of avalanche hazard on March 31 was extreme.
Covering approximately 2,000 acres, Alpine Meadows is located in Bear Valley on the east side of the Sierra Nevada, along the Sierra Crest ridgeline, five miles north of Lake Tahoe, California. It shares its northern ridge with Squaw Valley, located one valley over. The terrain was originally heavily glaciated, which produced a series of enormous cirques separated by steep ridges. The resort’s high floor—almost 7,000 feet above sea level—guarantees an immense amount of snow, and the ski runs range from tame to some of the country’s most challenging, nearly all of which showcase a postcard view of shimmering Lake Tahoe.
Alpine Meadows was established on land leased from the Southern Pacific Land Company and the U.S. Forest Service. Soon after it opened, on December 28, 1961, the intensity of the snowfall and the steep terrain in the area caused the Forest Service to label Alpine Meadows as one of the few Class A avalanche areas in the country, the highest possible hazard designation. As a result, the resort developed one of the most proficient, experienced, and intense avalanche forecasting and control programs in the country.
Larry had been at Alpine Meadows working ski patrol on and off for the past dozen years. In 1982 the patrol was made up almost solely of men (a lone woman had signed on just a few seasons prior) and an incredibly macho bunch at that—the type that couldn’t wait to get to work in the morning and blow things up. In addition to saving lives, the main function of the Alpine Meadows ski patrol was to control avalanches, which meant throwing bombs and firing artillery into the slopes to set off small avalanches in an effort to prevent big ones. The guys on ski patrol were essentially made up of equal parts firefighter, cop, paramedic, explosives expert, mountain guide, and ski bum. Their reason for living was to make things safe, and although they took this role incredibly seriously, no one ever had more fun at their job.
The orientation alone seemed like it would have driven most prospective patrollers out of the snow for good, but on the contrary, the challenge only seemed to strengthen their resolve for the work. Larry’s initiation to the danger of avalanches during his rookie season was a terrifying, sickening experience, sort of like a hazing prank gone wild. Norm Wilson, the mountain manager at the time, took Larry out to Peril Ridge to become accustomed to the feel of the snow, to learn how sometimes merely adjusting his weight at the wrong place on an unstable slope could set off an avalanche. Norm’s plan was to teach Larry not merely about the potential threat of the snowpack, but also the hazards of overconfidence. Larry saw the snow in front of him hump up, and then, like a tablecloth yanked off a set table, he was knocked completely back off his feet. It wasn’t a big enough slide to bury him, but it was a huge moment in his life, teaching him more in those few seconds about power and respect than he had ever learned before. The experience did not, however, deter him from wanting to be on ski patrol.
Despite Larry’s passion for the work, by age 34 he figured it was just about time for him to move on and start building houses for a living. There were two men above him—Bernie Kingery, the mountain manager, and Bob Blair, the patrol director—who loved their jobs just as much as he did and weren’t going anywhere.
Already a few feet of new snow had filled the parking lot since the previous day. There was almost no place to park, not because the lot was full of cars, but because there were massive piles of snow everywhere. One of the spots closest to the resort happened to be shoveled out, and Larry pulled in right next to the ski lodge.
As he and Thom got out of the Jeep, movement near the ground caught Larry’s eye. Through the dawning light and swirling snow, he made out an owl—definitely alive, but bouncing along the parking lot, tumbling with the wind and the blizzard. It was a small owl, maybe 8–10 inches tall, with yellow eyes and a white face outlined in brown and white. It had intricate off-white and light brown markings and no ears.
In all the time Larry had spent in the area, he had only seen an owl maybe once or twice before, at dusk, while camping deep in the forest. This particular type of owl, which he later realized was a Saw-whet owl, is secretive, strictly nocturnal, and almost never glimpsed by humans. Bird-watchers consider a sighting of this specific kind of owl to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The mythology of owls throughout the world is connected to a general belief that the bird is an omen of evil, and that forest owls in particular are a portent of death. For many Native Americans (especially the Apaches and the Ojibwa) and the Aboriginal people of Australia, as well as several cultures in Africa, Asia, and South America, the perception of owls involves powerful taboos with deep roots. In West Africa, the pidgin English name for owl is witchbird.
In old Armenian tales, owls were associated with the devil, and in Russian folklore, owls, especially small ones, were believed to be harbingers of deaths and disasters. Even Shakespeare, in Macbeth, describes the owl as a messenger of death, calling it the fatal bellman
—a night watchman who rings a bell at the door of a prisoner scheduled for execution in the morning.
Larry followed the owl that morning, trying to help it, save it, but eventually the storm blew it underneath a parked bus, and he could no longer see it. He gathered up his gear and headed in to work.
TWO
Mountaineers wanted for extremely hazardous and dangerous mountain work in the winter environment using explosives.
Magazine ad seeking applicants for Alpine Meadows’ ski patrol
While in 1982 the neighboring Squaw Valley ski patrol had strict rules about maintaining a clean-cut appearance, including no beards and no hair below shoulder length, the Alpine Meadows crew looked more like a biker gang. With the excuse that facial hair helped to prevent frostbite in their frigid working conditions, most of the two dozen or so members of the patrol wore scruffy beards and ponytails. Well aware of their reputation as rebels, they were not above sneaking into the patrol shack at Squaw Valley and covering the chalkboard with sexually explicit drawings poking fun at the squeaky-cleanness of the rival crew.
There were relatively few rules at Alpine Meadows governing the ski patrol, but one strictly enforced policy held that the members of the patrol could not wear jeans. During that era, powder pants weren’t necessarily a viable alternative. In the days before Gore-Tex and other high-tech waterproof gear were available, the early ’80s option, known as 60/40 pants, was made of a nylon blend of heavy pack material that tended to let as much water in as out. Most of the patrolmen flaunted their rebellion against this regulation by dressing in absurd outfits considerably less professional than jeans would have been—Larry Heywood had a penchant for corduroy knickers, and veteran patrolman Casey Jones could usually be found in tight, lime-green stretch pants.
The men on the Alpine Meadows patrol were tough and wild, and they partied at least as hard as they worked. They rigged the old-fashioned soda machine in their office to dispense, for 50 cents, only different types of beer. They blared Grateful Dead music wherever they went, including in the lift lines.
They hooted and hollered in the midst of crippling, no-visibility blizzards, feeling the power, experiencing what they referred to as the magic.
They were caught and swept up in so many avalanches they themselves had set off—an experience they quaintly referred to as taking a ride
—that they couldn’t recall them all. They were a rowdy team of total mavericks, doing whatever they wanted and avoiding their radios as much as possible so they couldn’t be found.
Despite—or because of—all that, the men working patrol at Alpine Meadows were also extraordinarily successful at what they did, and primarily what they did was protect people and save lives. Some of it was hard, physical work—hauling injured skiers and lugging hundreds of pounds of rope and bamboo poles used to mark terrain and hazards. Their duties included such mundane tasks as posting and digging out signs, stringing rope lines, and wrapping sprained knees. Occasionally they coordinated lifesaving rescues and evacuated skiers after near fatal accidents. Mostly, however, the job of the ski patrol was to use heavy explosives and military artillery to stay one step ahead of an adversary that they knew could destroy them and everyone they loved. They waged war against an invisible enemy—one that both signaled its presence and masked its danger with falling snow.
The origin of ski patrol dates in the United States back to 1936, when the friend of a man named Charles Minot Dole hit a tree and died during a ski race in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. In response, Dole decided to help develop a group with organized standards to address ski safety and rescue. The National Ski Patrol system began in 1938, with a group of volunteers familiar with basic first-aid and evacuation procedures for injured skiers. They also did their best to enforce safety regulations and slow down skiers who were going too fast.
As the interest in skiing continued to grow, the National Ski Patrol (often referred to as NSP) expanded as well, to the point where well-trained volunteers now donate their time at over 600 North American ski areas. The bigger resorts, however, are staffed full-time by core teams of pro patrollers who handle safety issues as well as avalanche control duties. On a resort’s professional ski patrol, there are no volunteers, no part-timers—you are either on it or you aren’t.
While respected, in the early ’80s the National Ski Patrol members were often looked upon as weekend warriors, skilled skiers who usually came in from out of town to handle wrecks and first-aid but were not permitted to participate in the dangerous explosives work. At Alpine Meadows, the National Ski Patrol members were viewed as Boy Scout-y. The pro patrollers, not so much.
Alpine Meadows, presumably by design, drew a particularly extreme type of individual for its ski patrol, the kind who responded to ads posted in outdoor magazines that read along the lines of adventurous bordering on suicidal. The sort of men who found that job description appealing were hard-core climbers from Yosemite Valley, the Grand Tetons—cool, rugged, real-life action heroes who spent their summers scaling walls and rescuing people and their winters restlessly seeking the same intense high.
In ’82, there were about 22 guys on Alpine Meadows’ ski patrol, depending on how many were out on injured reserve with some body part or other broken or torn. They were overwhelmingly male, white, young (all under age 40 except for one), and single. Most patrollers were motivated by a true desire to help others; others found that the job fed a deep yearning to be needed. Every one of them seemed to thrive on doing hazardous work for subsistence pay simply for the right to the adrenaline rush that came with saving lives.
None of them, certainly, did it for the money. In the ’81–’82 season, patrollers risked their lives for somewhere in the range of $6 to $7.50 an hour. As the assistant patrol director, Larry Heywood’s salary was $768 for two weeks, an income that would have put him under $20,000 for the year, assuming the work was year-round. The other aspect of the financial package was that the work was strictly seasonal—the patrollers worked the ski season, usually only November to May.
Still, some members of the ski patrol couldn’t believe they were getting paid at all to wake up every day to do what they loved, to hold a job whose duties included skiing powder, watching the sunrise over the mountain peaks, hanging out on the ridge on sunny spring days. And there were perks, experiences that they wouldn’t necessarily have had the access or opportunity to do, like having the summit to themselves before dawn, or laying down the first, solitary tracks on a backcountry slope glistening with fresh, untouched powder up to their noses. For some of these guys, that they got to do these things at all was what mattered, and to get paid on top of it was just a bonus.
There were a few novices who left patrolling after a season or two, but for the most part, once these guys started the job, they were in it for keeps. Virtually every member of Alpine Meadows’ ski patrol, however, began his career by thinking of it as something to do for a season while he postponed having to grow up and get a real job. Then they were hooked, and the rest of their lives ended up more or less revolving around their commitment to patrolling. Many of them were thrilled to disprove their parents’ argument that they would get bored skiing every day. For a patrolman, each day was an adventure.
In many cases the patrollers’ education didn’t extend beyond high school, although several members of the crew had college degrees or even PhDs. But it wasn’t like these guys could get jobs in a bank, even had they been willing to. Once they pledged to ski patrol, they had to find temporary, seasonal jobs that would allow them to feed themselves and their patrolling habit. In the off-season, many patrollers took jobs in construction, and several took on the summer equivalent of extreme public service and fought fires, some as members of elite, first-strike tactical teams. They weren’t thinking career so much as a job that would pay enough to cover rent, gas, and six-packs. One veteran member of the patrol used to pump gas at a Shell station in Tahoe City in the off-season—a position that paid a dollar more an hour than his job keeping the mountains safe for skiers.
It was an eclectic, outrageous group in an especially unique time and place, a culture brimming over with mountain spirit and alternative lifestyle. To a large extent, the 1960s were still alive and well at Alpine Meadows in 1982. The resort was a party destination for aging hippies looking for jobs, some who had served in the war in Vietnam and some who had gone to the ski area to evade it. There were lost souls desperate to check out of reality and party on, and lots of young American kids just out of college who loved to ski. Most everyone was living paycheck to paycheck, and no one had a reliable car. But there were jazz and rock and roll bands at the resort and skiing parties in the moonlight just for the employees. There was dancing and drinking and pot and cocaine. At the annual Groomers’ Ball, usually held at the local Elks lodge or a nearby restaurant, the raffle always billed first prize as a trip to Hawaii: a shot of LSD while someone shook a picture of Hawaii in front of the winner’s face.
It was, for these people, at that moment, truly the best of times. They had all chosen passion over other, straighter paths. They were mountain people, skiers, climbers, fishermen, outdoorsmen. The employees of Alpine Meadows were their own community, the tightest of families, where the members genuinely took care of each other. Even on ski patrol, which had a bit of a gang mentality and tended to knock rookies out if they were soft, the established crew all had each other’s backs.
The patrol was headed up by Bernie Kingery, age 49, an avalanche hunter with 20 years’ experience. The beloved mountain manager was pitch-perfect in the role, down to the bushy, mountain-man beard and the sweetness beneath the gruff exterior. As patrol director, Bob Blair was below Bernie in the chain of command. Bob, with his long, thick, dark hair and self-possessed smile, was a frequent crush of the girls working the ski lifts and ticket sales. He came to Alpine Meadows from his hometown of Sacramento when he was 20 years old, first working as a lift operator. That was in 1968, back in the days when his ponytail-length hair was forbidden and he tried to get around the restriction with lots of hats that never came off.
What had started out as a short-time gig for Bob soon became more permanent. He got a job as a lifeguard at the Lake Tahoe beaches in the summer, found friends in the community, began to fit in. In ’72 he threw away his poles and learned to ski with a shovel as a member of the ski patrol, taking a cut in pay for the opportunity to do so. On his two days off a week he plowed snow off roofs, easily making as much money in those two days as he did in two weeks of patrolling.
Bernie offered Bob the position of patrol director in the fall of ’76, to which Bob responded, I’m gonna need a hand on my shoulder, but I’d like to do it.
That promotion moved him from an hourly to a salaried employee, although given how many hours he worked as director, financially it was clearly a demotion. He was more like one of the guys than a stern authority figure, although from time to time he was known to hurl their backgammon set over the ridge when he caught his patrolmen congregating on an over-long break in one of the mountaintop lift shacks. He had a quick, occasionally volatile temper and he was willing to tell management what he thought, the combination of which backfired on him from a professional standpoint more than once. It was no secret that he didn’t get along with Howard Carnell, the resort’s general manager—a burly, brisk guy who wore the collar on his ski jacket up and punctuated every word he said with a period—but Bernie was always there to act as a buffer between them. Soft-spoken and emotional, Bob was a good organizer of people. He listened to the patrollers and protected them whenever possible.
Larry Heywood, as assistant patrol director, was just beneath Bob, and took over Bob’s responsibilities on his days off. He theoretically reported to Bob, but he would frequently take issues to Bernie or even straight to Howard. In direct contrast to Bob, Larry knew how to talk to management and was savvy enough to tell his superiors what they wanted to hear. His critics claimed that he was positioning, calling him an opportunist, a climbing guy.
The fact was, he was driven in an occupation where ambition wasn’t necessarily the norm and it was therefore viewed with suspicion. He might have been self-absorbed, maybe a little haughty, but he was also a born leader.
Even though he certainly partied as hard or harder than the rest of the crew, in relation to some of the guys he supervised Larry was viewed as a straight arrow, almost a goody two-shoes. He wasn’t the only married member of the ski patrol—although the majority of them were single—but it wasn’t just his wife and 12-year-old son that set him apart a bit from the rest of the patrollers. For starters, his appearance was more clean-cut than most of the other patrolmen: sun-bleached blond hair cut well above shoulder length and no facial hair. He somehow simply looked the part—tall, lanky, fit, and tan, dressed in a cotton turtleneck and one of his ubiquitous gray wool sweaters. His face was good-looking in a boyish sort of way, with hazel eyes masked by ever-present Vuarnets and a ruddy, peeling nose from too much sun exposure and too little sunscreen. And beyond that, he had the whole package in terms of the image management wanted in a representative of the resort. He was not just smart, articulate, and responsible, he also came with built-in stability: a house, a family, a wife who worked as the registrar at North Tahoe High School.
Larry was raised in San Jose, California, the oldest of four children, all with names that began with L.
His parents and three other couples often got together for poker and cocktails, a tradition that soon expanded to frequent joint family ski vacations in Tahoe. As a result, Larry became fairly fluid on skis by age five.
Larry met his wife, Kathy, at Abraham Lincoln High School, although they weren’t a couple during school. He graduated in ’65 and married Kathy a year later, when they were both 18. At the time, he was attending classes at San Jose State as well as working nearly full-time hanging drapes for his dad’s business. Larry’s maternal grandmother had been a seamstress, and during World War II her shop, Custom Made Draperies, did a brisk business making blackout drapes. Larry’s dad went into that business as well, running Heywood Drapery in Santa Clara, California, where Larry learned the unique and specialized trade of hanging fancy drapes.
Larry and Kathy had a baby boy, Shawn, in 1970. With the mounting pressure of making a living and being a dad, Larry ended up flunking out of college. For a change of pace from the grind of the previous few years, he moved his family to Lake Tahoe, renting a tiny house on the West Shore for $130 a month. The winter