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I was in a plane plane crash '97 with my brother and mom (a retelling will be my MFA thesis film, the pieces will be revealed in time). Lots of things happened that resulted in our meeting with gravity and the ground. The experience tested my mettle and has shaped my life for what it is, whether it has been pushing myself believing I was invincible, or sitting at home after I learned I'm not.

My brother and I went back to the crash site to experience the setting and rising of the sun in this most beautiful place. Learning where it actually is has been an interesting feat of cooperation through which we've met the amazing Search and Rescue team and the Civil Air Patrol Wing who orchestrated our recovery.

We've learned a lot on this trip, correcting impressions with facts, realigning memories with reality. Nothing will take the bite off the experience of trauma, but knowing more about how it happened and how we lived to tell about it may, (I hope), smooth down some of the sharper edges.

For reference, here's a map link to where we crashed. Zoom out on that, and turn on "earth" view to get a sense of the terrain.

While I'm making this film, I'm going into therapy for support, right now it's hard. Very hard. I'm not OK.


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