The Snow Angel

Country Road

That crunch that fresh snow makes when you walked through it, was just an unmistakable sound. It was a noise that hunters longed for all year. A sign that winter had finally come in all of it's blustery white glory. Even though hunting season would open in November in most of the northern states. True snowfall accumulations never hit in most places until January or February. By the end of this story however, we would have rather skipped right to dog days of summer.

It was the winter of '78. At the time it was just a normal Saturday in January. My cousin Trevor and I were headed out to my uncles property in Brown County. He was taking me out for my first hunt. I was seventeen at the time, Trevor a few years older, had just turned twenty one. I grew up in Cincinnati and hadn't spent as much time in the woods as him.

Your typical country boy, Trevor kept a dip in his lip at all times. Always had on that worn ass John Deere cap. I swear he's had that on for as long as I can remember. Most of all, he was without a doubt blaring some ol' honky-tonk twang from his beat up '65 Ford Bronco. Can't say it was my style, but it worked for him. His girlfriend Jenny was a knockout, a perfect 10 as we called it. So I guess there was no question, Trevor was the cool guy out here in the sticks. I don't know what that made me. A goofball I guess.

We had always got along great though. Even when we hadn't seen each other for quite some time. There was never any awkward moments or anything. Trevor was quite the funny guy and we laughed a lot. I was usually the quiet one. Though I usually let loose when we sat around the campfire.

In fact, that first night we made it to the property. That's just what we did. We setup camp and roasted some 'dogs and drank a few beers around the fire. A buddy of mine from band class, traded me some weed for a couple Reds cards and a playboy I swiped from the teacher after detention. So it was practically free. We rolled a couple joints and smoked them out under the stars.

The night sky was clear and beautiful. It was getting cold, but we came prepared. A kerosene heater, plenty of blankets, and an over abundance of youthful exuberance. We weren't going to let anything spoil our weekend. At least that's what we thought.

On the Trail

Working on a farm, getting up before dawn to feed livestock and do chores. That was just a daily thing for Trevor. For me, I hit the snooze button three times before I even thought about getting out of bed. My Mom had to basically threaten or drag me out of bed and down for breakfast every morning for school. So he had the whole camp packed up long before I was up. Meanwhile, I was just laying in the open, shivering in my sleeping bag. It wasn't long until he got tired of watching me trying to smack at an imaginary alarm clock.

He nudged me awake by his boot. "get up lazy-bones, we got a hike to make before it gets much later." With a disgruntled moan, I got up and rubbed my face. Trevor stuck a mug of hot coffee in my face. "Here, drink this and get ready, dude." I took the cup and tried to get moving.

It was about fifteen minutes and we were on the trail. We each carried compound bows and some basic supplies on us. A light snow had started earlier that morning and coated the woods in a white blanket. Still steadily falling as we walked to the hunting grounds. Though the trek was only two miles to the tree stands, the winding forest and accumulating precipitation, made it feel like twenty. Every tree was spindly and barren, the hills both sparse and unimpressive. The fresh snow did however lend it a redeeming and majestic allure.

Our Hunt Begins

We got to the site about an hour later then was ideal. That was off course my fault. In fairness though, Trevor let me slide with only a minor amount of guilt-trips and insults. He showed me how to aim and work the bow a bit before we got there. There was a clearing we stopped at, where we took a couple of practice shots into some round bales to make sure I had the hang of it. I did okay, had decent grouping. He did warn me though, if I didn't think I could take the creature with one kill shot. That I should spare the deer, we wouldn't want to just injure the poor thing.

Trevor showed me where my tree stand was, and I climbed into position. The snow had started to pick up for a bout the last twenty minutes so he was anxious to get to his spot and settle in. "Alright, if your good I'm headed out. If you have any trouble or anything, Radio me I'll be on channel three."

We had walkies with only a two mile range, but to his stand wasn't far. Everything was just set up in a way to give us opposing vantages of the field. That way it was safer and we didn't take aim at the same quarry.

I lost sight of Trevor in the falling snow as visibility diminished rapidly. We didn't expect this, since they were only called for flurries. Though there is a saying in Ohio. "If you don't like the weather just wait twenty minutes." That couldn't be more true. Snow continued to fall for a while, but gave way to a break in the clouds. The parting of a white veil had cleared my view over the woods.

I sat quietly for what seemed like hours, but in truth wasn't longer than forty minutes. The temptation to radio Trevor just to break the boredom, was ever present in my thoughts. Just then the snap of a twig caught my attention. I was alert and I could feel my heart pound in my chest as I saw it. A mature doe wandered through the dry brambles just out of range.

She peck at the snow with her muzzle. Probably looking for shoots of grass or feeder pellets that had been buried underneath. Anxiously she took several jabs at the powder and then looked around instinctually for predators. This went on and on in short increments as she slowly got closer to my kill-zone. Leaving my bow at my side, I knocked an arrow and just waited patiently. When she got closer, I raised my bow and drew back the arrow.

With a deep breath I held the shot and just waited. She came close but was skirting the tree line that I knew that was just outside my range. Fixated on my target, my vision narrowed and my hearing honed in on the subtle noise of her step. Her head came around a large ash and looked almost directly at me. Without warning, something startled her. She booked across the wide clearing to the left and out distance my best shot in milliseconds. A young buck, too small to hunt pranced right across the glade. Just haphazardly frolicked in front of me and eventually caught up with its mother. Angrily, I lowered my bow and cursed that little bastard for ruining my chances.

"Trevor. Trevor! come in." I whispered as best I could with my frustration pressing the volume up button the whole time. Trevor answered, "Yeah? what is it, I read you."

"I almost had that big girl and that little turd spooked her." Trying to complaining in hushed but hostile tones was not easy on a radio.

Trevor snickered. "Listen, that's just the kind of thing that happens out here, okay? You win some, you lose some. Does are usually pretty curious at nature and like to double back. Just be patient and you might get another shot. Now get off the radio and save the batteries for an emergency."

Frustrated, I tossed my radio into my bag and tucked myself into my stand. I had a thick blanket for warmth wit me. So I wrapped in tight, all the while murmuring curses about my terrible luck. It wasn't long before I calmed down and the boredom set in again. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed a drink of hot cider from my thermos and then gnawed on a granola bar.

A pair of grey squirrels came by to give me some entertainment. They battled over some little goodie one of them had found. Fighting and jumping from branch to branch and then tree to tree. Eventually one got the better end of the deal and took off into the thicket. Going back to fending off snow blindness, I stared into the dormant and lonesome forest. In no time, this lull in activity made sure I was fast asleep.

The Lost and The Found

Biting cold had a way of making you drowsy. Well in my case, it smacked me hard across the face and woke my ass up. The wind tore at me like spectral fingers trying to pry at my soul. My face was completely numb and frost bitten. I had ice built up on my clothing and dangling from my boots which had adhered to the stand floor. A stabbing pain shot up from my hands and arms as I moved them. Feeling came back to my legs but gradually and in protest. My extremities regained feeling as they prickled and jabbed in response to the increased blood flow.

Visibility was zero, the woods were just buried in blowing snow. Drifts came halfway up the ladder to my stand. I knocked the snow off my bag and looked for the radio. Giving it a tap I broke a thin layer of ice off it and pressed the call button. "Trevor! come in Trevor!"

<static....broken radio chatter......static> no response.

In panic, I tried again. "Damnit Trevor, can you hear me, over?"

<warbles and static waves> nothing.

Fear set in, and I anxiously began to run through various scenarios of escape and rescue. There were all nonsense, but you can't think rationally when your in total panic mode. Deciding to try and make my way to where our camp was the night before, I climbed out of the tree. When I was nearly half way down I noticed the snow had blown to about five or six feet up the tree trunk by my estimate. Stepping closer before letting go, I fell into the drift which was much less dense than I had hoped. With a thud I hit something hard beneath the powdery bank. It knocked the wind out of me and I saw stars for a moment until I sat upright.

Losing my bow in the process, I flailed around in the snow for a bit hoping to find it. No such luck. From there I got up and pressed on in minor defeat at the loss of my only weapon. Hopefully, I could find Trevor soon and together we could make it out of here before the storm consumed everything in path.

This desperation helped me as I pressed against the tremendous gale of bitter wind. One foot, then the other. Like a child learning to walk. I took baby steps, back towards where we had come to this site that same morning. No landmarks or ribbons to mark the way were visible. They were either buried or utterly destroyed beneath the white death that had befallen us.

Going like that for what seemed like forever. My body ached in fatigue, my face burned from wind burn. I was starting to feel stiff from the cold. Unable to bend my joints well due to the dreadful pain, I walked even slower. Looking around desperately I realized in terror, that I should have seen the camp site by now. I had either passed it or I was lost in this blizzard.

I had two choices: One, I continue to push forward, until my body gave out; in the slight hope that I find some sort of rescue before that happens or two, I lay down and die right here. Keeping my hopes up wasn't easy, but I chose option one and kept moving. Like a robot, my legs just kept moving even when I thought they would just seize up from fatigue. Something inside, I didn't know what but it gave me just that little bit of extra effort that I needed to push forward.

Even that began to have its limits though. It felt like any second my limbs would just fail me. Soon I would crash to the earth and lay there until everything inside shutdown. Was it adrenaline, hope, fear, mind over matter? Whatever it was, it was nearly depleted and if I didn't find my way out of this mess soon. I wouldn't make it out alive and no one would probably ever know what happened to me.

That's when it happened, as hope was beginning to leave me. There was a small cottage, maybe a hunting cabin just on the banks of a frozen pond. I was either delirious or that little shack might be my salvation for the night. I staggered in exhaustion, pushing with every ounce of strength in me, just to get a little closer to that place.

Reaching out with my hands, I grabbed at a small tree for support. Dry rotted, it crumbled under my weight and I fell hard and prostrate. My breathe was taken from me but I managed to roll onto my back and look at the sky. I tasted blood in my mouth and the bright grey above swirled into black at last.

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I didn't know it at the time. Trevor you see, had fallen from his tree stand drunk. Knocked himself out, he laid unconscious for hours in the blowing snow. Apparently, he had a fifth of Kentucky sour mash up there with him. I guess while I was bored up in my tree, he was having a good old time. A little too good it sounds like. At some point he passed out, and slipped off his rig.

Hours later he woke up freezing. He found my stand but I had wandered off somewhere by then and he was forced to look for help on his own. Somehow in that mess, he located the truck and got it unstuck. He drove it until he wrecked it out on highway thirty two. Luckily some state trooper saw him and drove him back to the station for the night.

He told them everything that happened and that I was still out there. My chances weren't good, everyone knew that but the roads were just too bad to go out again. In fact they governor was calling up the National Guard for help. A state of emergency they called it. They would put a search party together and start clearing roads once the snow stopped, tomorrow morning.

Mars and Phoebe

Something happened, but I was barely conscious. It sounded like crunching snow and the low growl of some beast. Was I dreaming, I don't know but it sure felt real. Not sure how long I was out but I came in and out of consciousness for sometime. Blurry shapes and forms blinked about. A swash of color streaked across my eyes, it was abstract and in broad strokes. Darkness would wash over me and then the visuals would repeat periodically.

The first clear memory I have is the warmth and crackle of a fire. The hearth and chimney crafted of rough hewn stone. A steaming iron pot bubbled on the ledge. There was a pungent aroma, it hung in the air. Thick with that of some unfamiliar herb or flower.

<thunk!> <bang!> <stomp!> someone was coming.

Heavy and crude was the cabin door. It swung wide before a fuzzy terracotta dog crept in. Behind the beast, was a short cloaked figure. Who was helping the canine drag in a mat full of cut logs and branches. They brought the load to the fireplace and slid it in the corner. Shutting the door after a moment, the small person removed their cowl. I pretended to be asleep and watched from under partly open eyelids.

Curly golden-brown locks bounced out of from under the hood. The face of this young girl had some worry and experience. She was covered in dirt and sweat. You could tell she had big spirit though and as I had that thought. A big, jovial smile reached across her wide face. "I told you Mars, its almost ready!" She said excitedly as she ran over to the simmering pot.

Truthfully, I didn't know if what I was seeing at that time was real. In the throes of fever, I battled madness. There were brief times I could think clearly then the next I was delirious. In those moments, my head felt like it would burst and my eyes burned as hot coals. With my rising temperature, it felt as though my brain would reach boiling point before the stew did. As I was fading out again, I wondered. " How did I get here? Who was this girl with this wild dog? How long has it been, hours, days? I had no clue. So many questions...."

"Mister, hey Mister! Wake up! Drink this..." Hearing the Childs voice, was soothing and yet startling simultaneously. She had a mothering sort of quality to her. She held a wooden spoon of some awful smelling broth to my lips. I turned my mouth away in reflex as I struggled to wake. "Come now mister, you need to keep up your strength. " the girl continued. My eyes regained their focus and I looked into her face.

Her eyes were sapphires that seemed to capture all the light in the room. The ivory tone of her skin had a softness both pure and innocent. She had a certain kindness about her. The kind you couldn't fake, it just poured from within her like some divine essence. "What's your name, girl?" I asked her.

"Phoebe, I'm Phoebe...." she paused after she answered. As though no one bothered to ever ask her that question before. After a few seconds of studying each other, she prodded again. "Drink Mister, it will help. You need fluids and this will help some with the pain."

Obliging her, I drank. The peculiar broth was bitter sweet. The warmth of it soothed my sore throat. I cleared my voice then felt the urge to speak. "I'm Tristan. My name's Tristan."

She smiled big and nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you Tristan."

"Yes, well thank you, Phoebe and for all you have done. Can you tell me how I ended up here?"

Taking a second to gather herself, she stood and set the spoon across the bowl next to the bed. "Mars found you and he dragged you through the snow by your leg. It was difficult for him, so I made a pallet out of some rope and wood. Then we managed to get you to the cabin. You were so cold, your skin had become grey. I put you by the fire place and bundled you up. You slept for almost two days. There were periods were you woke up, but they were brief. A few times you called out a name in your sleep."

Instantly I knew, "Trevor..."

Search and Rescue

What was supposed to be the next morning became two days. The snow kept falling and the wind never stopped blowing. National guard trucks were out with men digging out survivors on the interstate. Plows were working double time trying to get the roads clear. There just wasn't enough man power to get this mess cleaned up any time soon.

Trevor had stayed the first night in the station and then got a motel up the road to rent him the utility room for the second. It wasn't much but it was warm enough that he got some sleep. The first day, search and rescue made several attempts to get patrol cars out to the county road where we turned off. The drifts were just too immense though. Some of which, must of been fifteen feet tall, maybe even higher.

Trevor and a few Brown County deputies went out on ATVs the next morning. During a lull in the storm they located what they thought was the road we went down. It was so windy, to stay on the road when it narrowed in the hills and hollers felt like certain death. The blowing snow was like a wall of sheer ice. No amount of determination stood up against the raw power of mother nature. The blinding force and bitter cold, just left no way through until the storm stopped. Hope was running out of ever finding me alive.

Deputy Dixon and Dispatcher Holly Mason were playing blackjack as they rode out the storm. Trevor paced around the office, waiting and hoping for a break in the weather. Hours dissolved away into what felt like days. The minute hand seemed frozen and the second moved like cold molasses.

Time just plodded along, ignorant of the human factors at stake. Trevor was constantly checking his watch. Walking circles that in fact just made everyone more tenuous and impatient. It helped Trevor's nerves though, but Deputy Dixon was about to come unglued in a second if he didn't quit it.

Just then the radio picked up a transmission. <This is Talon Two, we have visual on the subject. I repeat we have eyes on the subject>

Holly smiled and repeated the good news, "That's the rescue 'chopper, Trevor. They think they found your cousin Tristen!"

Welcome Home

When rescue arrived, I was barely coherent. They beat in the door and everyone clambered in around me. They bundled me up, gave me some sort of medical attention and air lifted me to the hospital. Though I can remember hearing people's voices and saw their blurry faces. Funny thing was, I really wasn't that thankful for being found. I just kept asking for Phoebe and got nothing. Not one person asked me about her.

After I was in the hospital several things came to light. First of all, Trevor was alive. We spent a lot of time together. That mostly consisted of him telling me about all the things that happened while I was a human popsicle.

Eventually, he ran out of things to say. That was about the time he started to ask what happened to me, how I got to the cabin and so forth. I told him everything, how I feel asleep. Getting lost in the snow and how a little girl and her dog pulled me to the cabin and kept me alive during the historic storm.

Trevor's face seemed to drain as I gave the details of the events in the cabin. When I told him about Phoebe and Mars and all they had done for me. He just starred and waited uncomfortably. The look on his face was awkward and worrisome as he waited for me to stop my retelling.

"Tristen, I uh. I don't know how to tell you this. but...uh." he paused trying to muster the words.

Something wasn't right. You could tell that immediately. "What? Trevor? come on... what don't you know how to tell me...."

"I don't...This isn't going to be easy to hear. There was no sign that any of what you have said happened. In fact that cabin had been abandoned for some time. There was no evidence of the fireplace being used, there was no dog prints or dog hair or anything like that. and I'm afraid to say it but, worst of all....we didn't find any little girl...." Trevor sighed out the last few words as I tried to take in everything he was telling me.

His words were piercing as they sank in. They vexed me and I tried to fight the confusion they brought with them. "This can't be, I didn't imagine this, Trevor!" distraught I started to raise my voice.

My cousin tried to comfort me with some logic "You were sick, delirious and with fever. Anyone would be confused...."

Offended and confused I yelled "I'm not confused damnit, She was real and she saved my life! Trevor! She was as real as you are right now! we need to find her, she's still out there in the storm...."

Compassion filled Trevor's eyes, but he wanted to help me grasp on to reality. "Its been over a week Tristen, the storm is gone and the snow we had is too...That's what I'm trying to say. If there was someone, we should have found them....I'm sorry...."

My heart ached with tremendous grief. Tears drowned my eyes and I broke down into a sobbing mess on that hospital bed.

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I couldn't give up, that little girl saved me. I went back to that cabin. I searched the woods, there was still a little bit of snow left on the ground down in that valley. Strangely there was a snow angel made in the snow right by the pond. Kneeling down I looked into the water and saw a glint of metal. Somehow I just felt it was important.

Making the call the sheriffs department, wasn't easy as I asked for a deputy to meet me. "I can't explain this, how I know all this but it's like someone spoke it to me. It makes no sense, it just something I can feel. But your going to find something in that pond deputy and its going to give a lot of people some answers." He was reluctant but he felt sorry for what I had been through and came up to the cabin anyhow with a winch.

Later that day, the brown county sheriff department recovered the skeletal remains of a young girl and a canine from the pond outside the cabin. After a complete investigation, it proved to be the body of a girl that's been missing from her family farm for twenty years. Tristen and the girl's family became close thanks to the closure it brought for everyone. They all would celebrate Phoebe's life and her indomitable spirit together every year on that day going forward. Welcome home, Phoebe.