By Piers Paul Read
In October 1972 an airplane sporting a celebration of Uruguayan rugby avid gamers and their neighbors took off from Argentina to fly over the Andes to Chile. It crashed within the mountains in dense cloud, and a few of the forty five passengers have been killed. The survivors quickly discovered, via hearing their transistor radio, that the hunt occasion have been referred to as off simply because not anyone may be anticipated to outlive at that altitude in so savage a weather. because the days handed, weakened through hunger and sub-zero temperatures, they'd to stand the inescapable fact - that, with a view to live on, they need to devour the flesh in their lifeless partners. How those younger males eventually despatched out "expeditionaries" to courageous the Andean peaks and the way, after appalling hardships, they completed rescue and again to civilization seventy two days after the crash, is mentioned during this story of human braveness and triumph. the writer is a novelist whose books comprise "The unfastened Frenchman" and "On the 3rd Day".
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Additional resources for Alive: The Story of the Andes Survivors
I think that’s why I have such a strong immune system to this day. What an embarrassing memory. School days of old gum, new pencils, and the Catholics. Rock ﬁghts, snowball wars, galoshes over our shoes, soggy sandwiches. Then the weekends came. I used to sit in trees all the time, particularly on the weekends when I had hours of freedom. My dad made us a swing by hanging an old tire from a tree branch. I liked to escape my brothers and sisters sometimes and have some time alone, so I would climb a tree and just sit there for hours.
My older brother, Lance, teased and tickled me until I peed in my pants, and I passed on the favor to my younger brothers, Tarry and Jeff. My sister Sara was closest in age to me and we played all the traditional games—hide and seek, hopscotch, and skip rope. We went everywhere together. There was a little store called Brown’s a couple of miles away from our house where I was occasionally sent to get supplies. On the way to the store I played a game with Sara. ” Periodically I’d whack her on the head.
His legs seemed to be getting shorter and shorter. Finally one of us called, 10 KISS AND TELL SHANNON, KIM, LANCE AND MOM IN OUR FRONT YARD. ” Everyone descended on the pond—my parents, all the kids, and the ranch hands—with the dogs behind us barking frantically. Curly was stuck fast, past his knees, with ducks and geese calmly swimming around him. Even with grown men pulling—and then using a tractor—Curly could not be rescued. After hours of struggling, my dad eventually had to shoo all the kids away and shoot him.