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It's the early hours of September 7th, 2020. In Marion County and the US state of Oregon, the night sky is tinged with orange, the apocalyptic glow of the Beachy Creek wildfire. State park and national forest are being consumed at the rate of 3 acres per second. 70 mile an hour winds drive the inferno down into the Santiam River Canyon and towards the small city of Gates.
A few miles outside of town, 66-year-old Scott Johnson, his wife Mary Beth, and their cat, Tuku, have just seconds to escape the wall of flames rushing towards them. Scott stumbles in his sandals as he runs over the uneven ground. In one hand, he holds the cat carrier. The other reaches out to Mary Beth, still dressed in her pajamas. They're making for a switchback trail. It leads down, twisting and turning, from their clifftop property and into the canyon.
With the trees all around them ablaze, the St. Tiëme River at the bottom is their only hope. As Scott struggles with the cat, Mary Beth goes up ahead into the haze. I couldn't see her and she went, "Don't come this way, I'm in the middle of the fire, I'm on fire." It was like, whoa. And then that fire that she was in started kind of coming around that corner to me, but it was like coming up behind us too. Unable to make it any further down the trail, surrounded by fire on all sides but one,
They're trapped on the edge of the cliff. Scott glances over the precipice. It's a long way down, 40 feet or so. He takes a deep breath while he still can before the smoke fills his lungs. We had like 100-foot flames literally all around us, and it was coming really fast. So everything had to happen in split-second timing. We just didn't have any other options. It was like, well, we go that way, we're in the fire. We go this way, we're in the fire.
And it was like the only option we had was to jump off the cliff. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Scott Johnson, a carpenter, musician, and holistic energy healer.
He and Mary Beth have an idyllic life in rural Oregon. Surrounded by ancient woodland, forest fires are a common occurrence. Something you learn to exist with. When the couple go to bed one September night, they have no idea what lies in store. Soon, they'll be trapped in the heart of the most ferocious wildfire seen in these parts for 30 years. You know, I'm not even dressed, so I'm like pulling clothes on. And I walked outside and it was like,
literally stepping into an oven and I was so hot that I couldn't even breathe. Scott and Mary Beth will find themselves out of options and out of time. And together, they must leap into the unknown. I'm John Hopkins from Noisa. This is Real Survival Stories. It's Monday, September the 7th, 2020. Labor Day. In Oregon, the wildfire season is drawing to a close.
Scott Johnson is enjoying a typically peaceful afternoon at their rural home. It sits perched atop the Santiam Canyon, just downriver from the former logging town of Gates. I spent a lot of time in those woods and my own little woods. I felt very comfortable just out walking. We had like bobcats and deers and all kinds of cool stuff that would come walking through our yard because we were far enough outside. We were about
oh a mile from gates and then between us and gates is this giant state park so basically we border a state park on one side and then there's like five acre home sites on the other side and they're all on this cliff that's overlooking the river scott is a nature-loving oregonian
Silver hair tied up in a ponytail, long beard, a vegetarian, a lover of music, and a guy who seeks harmony and balance in everything he does. His wife and partner of 40 years, Mary Beth Carden, is much the same way. They met way back when at a health retreat in the woods, where Scott was campaigning to save the ancient forest from being felled for timber.
So we actually met at this hot springs resort that is probably about 20 miles as the crow flies from where we live.
surrounded by natural forest for miles and miles on every side. And it was all old growth, just gorgeous, amazing, like untouched. And so we started building trails into those pockets so that people that came to the hot springs would take those trails and go, "Oh my God, this is amazing. We can't cut this."
So it sort of created a little bit of an enmity between us and the community. You know, it was like, oh, you know, because we were also a clothing optional hot springs. And so it's like, you're the naked voodoo hippie cult that's trying to stop us cutting the trees. Anyway, that's where I met my wife. Scott and Mary Beth recently paid off their mortgage, giving them a degree of long sought after financial security.
Now they are even freer to pursue their passions. For Scott, that means his carpentry workshop and his music studio, which is packed with an array of instruments from around the world. For Mary Beth, it's meditating on the garden platform that Scott built especially for her. Well, you know, we had like the idyllic life. You know, we were living on the river. We'd been there for 20 years. We were on this cliff that overlooks the Saniem River down below us.
Everything around us was big giant trees. It was such a blessing. It was like living in an old-growth forest, really. And you couldn't even... The trees were so thick that you couldn't even see the place from Google Earth. For me, it's like my church. They share their home with their cat, Tuku. Tuku was a feral stray who lived out in the woods for years. But slowly, Scott and Mary Beth won his trust. Now he is part of the family.
I could tell you stories about Tuku all night long because he was an amazing being. He was kind of what they call a tuxedo cat. So he had like black and white, like white paws and a little white face. And he was very, very cute. The September evening draws in. Scott is heading inside when he takes a last look at the horizon and the gray cloud hanging over the distant hills. The 500-acre Beachy Creek Fire.
They've been living with the subtle but constant smell of smoke since it started back in mid-August. It's being closely monitored, but with the weather forecasts predicting strong winds, the locals know to be vigilant. Just then, the lights go out. A power cut. It's not that unusual in such a rural location, especially in this weather. Power lines get blown over and it can take a while for someone to come out to fix them. But it's not great timing. Scott and Mary Beth's property gets very poor cell phone reception.
with the landline out of action, this means they're cut off. Luckily, the Beachy Creek Fire Management Team HQ is just down the highway in Gates, where Scott is able to check in with a friend of his. I was like, "Look, the power just went out, you know, should we leave or, you know, I mean, how, what's the danger of this wind?" And he said,
Look, you know, we've done all the calculations and, you know, there's no way that even with those 40 mile an hour winds that those fires up there and they were like 30 miles away or 20 at least, they're just not going to make it to you by morning at least. So, you know, you're probably good for the night. So that was enough for me. Just in case Scott and Mary Beth have a contingency plan.
Should they need to, they'll swiftly load up their cars and hit the road. Sound asleep in bed, the couple have no idea that by 11pm the fire is just 10 miles away, or that the winds have increased, pumping the flames down the Santiam Valley. With the lines down, by 3am they haven't received the emergency "go now" evacuation order issued by the authorities. They have absolutely no idea what's coming. At just before 5am,
Mary Beth shakes Scott awake. They need to get out right now. When my wife woke up in the middle of the night, the fire was like literally feet from our house. Like the curtains were just like glowing orange. It was like, you know, we open them up and it's like fire right there.
Their leafy haven has been transformed into a hellscape. 100-foot flames rage all around.
Shielding his face against the wall of heat, Scott rushes into the driveway to the storage unit that contains the cat carrier. If they save nothing else, they're saving Tuku. A blizzard of ash fills the air. Embers spark new fires where they land in the scrub. Scott's hopeful that they might yet drive to safety. But by the time he reaches their two vehicles, he realizes that isn't an option.
The cars were kind of smoking. The fire was like feet from them. They hadn't caught on fire yet. They were steaming. And it was like, oh man, there's no way I can even open the door on that thing. All he can do is grab Tuku's carrier from the storage unit in the nick of time. And right as I opened the door, the first of the sideways blasts came through and I hadn't seen those yet. And it was like,
Nursing his burnt hand, Scott sprints back inside the house. Mary Beth is in the bedroom and, unsurprisingly, their terrified feline friend is hiding under the bed.
And I'm so big that I can't get under there. But luckily my wife is smaller and she just surprised the heck out of me and him too because he'd always had that was his spot. So she dives under there and it so freaked him out that he came running down the hall. I grabbed him, we threw him into the carrier and we started running down that trail. The fire has reached the house itself now. They scurry out the back and head straight for the trail that leads down to the river.
We basically ran out with clothes on our backs. My wife was still in her pajama bottoms. I mean, it was kind of like that was how rapidly this all went down. Like you're in an adrenaline space and it's survival, you know, above everything else. So you're just kind of like, okay, what do I need to do in this moment to survive? Struggling with Tuku's carrier, Scott lags behind. Mary Beth runs ahead.
So it was like black and orange was the whole thing. And then of course, huge smoke, you're like breathing constantly smoke. Whenever these 40 mile an hour winds would come, then you would also have like cinders and flying burning debris and all this stuff that you'd have to block from your eyes and mouth. And you'd be putting yourself out because your clothes would try to catch fire.
So we're in the midst of that. Flames soar above them, as high as a two-story building. As Marybeth turns a corner, for a moment Scott loses sight of her in the blaze. Then he hears her yelling at him to stay back. Up ahead, the wildfire has completely engulfed the trail. The running route down to the river is impassable. Scott calls to Marybeth, but the deafening roar drowns out his voice. He casts around, then he peers over the cliff at the edge of the trail. The river is forty or so feet below.
and before it an almost sheer descent covered with burning trees boulders and thorny undergrowth i could see where she'd gone through the fire in front of us and it was like the only option we had was to jump off the cliff at the time you know you really don't think too much about it because it's like you're in an adrenaline rush and you this is your only option
Scott glances down at Tuku, cowering in his carrier. His fur and whiskers are already singed. There's nothing else for it. He jumps. Literally hundreds, if not a thousand needles came down like the heavens were falling. I'm Natalia Petruzzella. From BBC Radio 4, this is Extreme. Musclemen.
When you're muscular, when you're big, you get respect. This is the story of the biggest illegal steroid operation the United States had ever seen, and the lengths to which we'll go in pursuit of perfection. Extreme Muscle Men. Listen wherever you get your podcasts. With Tuku clutched in his arms, Scott plummets through the darkness. Then he slams into the rocky slope, skidding on the loose earth and gravel. Over and over he rolls and slides,
before his descent comes to an abrupt, painful halt. Scott has landed within sight of the river, but he's caught in a tangle of thorny scrub. It's pinning into the embankment. He tries to wriggle free, but it tears at his clothes and skin. My wife had slid through the fire. She actually got a burn kind of on her backside doing that, but she was now in the river.
And she could see that I was like not moving. She was like, what are you doing? This fire is coming right at you. Get in the river now. Just feet above Scott's head, flames burst sideways out of the trees.
And I'm like, okay. And I'm like struggling to get out of this berries. And as I'm doing that, my shoe comes off. And I'm thinking, I'm going to need that shoe. But it's like pitch black. Well, it was this weird orange light because of those flames. But it was also so smoky that it was like dark.
Mary Beth says, "Look out, there's one of those things coming at you right now." And it was one of those 40 mile an hour winds and it blew right over the top of us and we kind of ducked down, me and the cat, into this hole that we kind of created by the debris.
But as that fire went over the top, I could see my shoe down in the bottom of that hole. It was like, oh, thank you, there's my shoe. And so I grabbed it and we struggled on out. Scott plunges into the river just seconds before the flames reach him. Holding Tuku aloft, he wades out to Marybeth. Pure adrenaline has got them this far, but they're far from safe. They've gone from unbearable heat to the shock of freezing cold water.
You've got like a thousand degrees going right here, like 10 feet away, but you're standing in 55 degree water and when these winds would come, you're now all wet. And so it'd blow on you, you'd be like chattering, right? But at the same time, you know, you could like burn up. The temperature of the Santiam River barely gets above 13 degrees Celsius. Even on a hot summer's day, swimmers can only tolerate its icy waters for minutes at a time. The strong current is pulling at them.
Debris hurtles down the cliff sides and into the water around them. Impenetrable walls of fire are almost up to the riverbanks. Huddling together in the torrent, Scott and Mary Beth are trapped again. Everywhere, as far as we could see, up and down the river on both sides of the river was completely engaged in the fire. So it was like there is no safe place you can swim to and get out. You're going to be in this river forever.
And that was a little bit on the scary side because you go numb and there's a current. One thing is in their favor. After a long, dry summer, the river level is lower than usual. It only comes up to Scott's stomach, making it possible to stumble downstream. Which is just as well because there's something else that offers a shred of hope. A large, fallen tree trunk caught on the bank. We saw this log and it was down, down or about, oh...
you know, 20, 30 yards, maybe 100 feet, something like that. And we realized if it was kind of on a slant, so it was part of it was on the land and part of it was in the water. But there was this area that you could climb up on it and you could be out of the water and not on the land. So there was probably about a 10 foot section of this tree. And we were like, if we get to that, we can get out of this river.
Even still, as they head towards it, negotiating the rocky riverbed while keeping the cat out of the water proves extremely difficult. But we had the cat, so we had to do this dance where, you know, we'd go like two or three feet as far as we could to pass the cat carrier and get ourselves stable and be like, okay, pass it along, you know, boom. And then go ahead of the person and you'd get stable again and then you pass the cat again. So it took us a long time just to get down there.
And in that time, we got really, really cold. It's a surreal contrast. Scott and Mary Beth shivering in the water, teeth chattering, while 100-foot flames pen them in. And yet on one level, Scott can't help but feel thankful. On this, the most terrifying night of their lives, he's just grateful he's with his wife. It was like, whoa, this is so bizarre.
At one point, we were doing this passing thing, and I went by my wife and I said, you know, Mary Beth, there is nobody in the world that I would rather be doing this with than you. She gave me this funny look, like, it had this sort of funny...
Finally, they make it to the log and haul themselves up. The tree is about 10 feet long and a foot wide.
One end is submerged, the other is propped up on the bank, just meters from the blazing undergrowth. Scott takes the end closer to land, back to back. They lean on one another, legs hunched up and elbows raised, protecting their faces from the fumes as best they can. After the last hour of chaos, they have a moment to take in their surroundings. We knew our place was being destroyed, but we couldn't actually see it.
The cliff is so steep that by the time we're in the river, we can't see the house anymore. But we can see flames where the house is, and they're like way bigger than the flames from the trees. So we know the house is going up, and then there's explosions because we've got propane tanks and stuff like that, and the cars are blowing up. They wince as a sudden whoosh somewhere above signals that another of their neighbor's homes has succumbed.
They don't know that the Beachy Creek fire is now merging with others, creating an uncontainable mega-fire. Nor do they realize that even as they ran from their home, firefighters nearby were having to pull back. With the dawn sky obscured by billowing smoke, they have no way of telling what time it is or how many hours they pass huddled together on their log, shivering in their sopping wet clothes.
Every time those winds would blow, this log we were on would try to catch on fire on the land side. And so I would have to like reach my hands down into the water and splash it to keep it from going up. So it was kind of one of these like constantly just maintaining survival and trying to figure out what was going on. The awesome power of nature is writ large. But just then, in this scene of desolation, Mary Beth starts to sing.
As Scott listens to her voice rising, he feels the connection they've always had to each other and to the land renewed. She started singing this beautiful song that we had learned, you know, at that community that we met at. And one of the songs we sang was this beautiful, you gotta humble yourself in the sight of the fire.
You gotta bend down low and humble Yourself in the sight of the fire You gotta know what it knows And we shall lift each other up Higher and higher we Shall lift each other up It shifted everything from being this like
we're going to die adrenaline moment to, it really took it into like, okay, we might die here, but you know, let's take a spiritual journey. From that moment, everything shifted. I was still in that adrenaline space, but it took me out of that like pure survival into like, no, there's way more going on here. It's mid-morning on Tuesday, September the 8th. Not that Scott and Mary Beth know it.
Time has passed without the light changing at all. Scott continues to throw water on the log as the wind rains down burning embers. But he's also keeping an eye on the shore, on one tree in particular. It was a tall tree.
And it was maybe a little on fire on the base, but the top of it wasn't even on fire at all. But it had this right in the middle of it. It was flaming halfway up the trunk was this weird fire going on.
And every time those winds would blow, it would get bigger and bigger, that fire in the middle of it. I said, I think that tree is going to fall because it's got to be getting weaker every time it's, you know, doing that. And then sure enough, it did. They duck as the toppling trunk sends a flurry of sparks over the river. Now, as they look up, the tree nearest to them looks to be next in line.
The tree in front of us that was like directly in line to fall on us had that same thing going on. So it started going off and that's when I said to Mary Beth, you know, I think we need to get off of this log. They jump back into the freezing water. They make their way through floating detritus and scorched vegetation. Thankfully, there's another log not too far away that they can clamber onto. Soaked through, once again, they look towards the shore.
with just the faintest hint of longing. The fire is still going, but it has lessened ever so slightly. At what point did the flames become the better option to stave off hypothermia? They might have to venture onto land. The fire had gone from being like 100-foot flames, you know, in all directions, to like maybe 10-foot flames on some trees and...
Some trees are just smoldering and the ground is all like just embers now, but it's not the raging fire that it was. Marybeth can't bear the cold any longer. She decides to risk it. Holding onto Tukku, Scott watches as she wades to the bank and then scrambles up it. A moment later, she calls to them to follow her. She's found an ingenious way of warming up. Scott and Tukku abandon the log and join her on the shore.
She walked onto the land and kind of disappeared.
around the corner there a little bit, and she yells back, she's like, I found a warm rock. And I'm like, oh, that sounds really good. And I come around the corner, and there she is. She's like sprawled on this, like maybe four foot, five foot, like boulder. And she's just like lying on it, and it's like 90 degrees, or you know, it's been in this fire the whole time. So it's like warm, just like radiating warmth.
We put the cat on top and I'm like lying on it just going, oh my God, this feels so good. From this new vantage point on the toasty boulder, they can get their bearings. Scott spots a familiar landmark, a tree protruding at an odd angle from the cliffside. He does a double take. That means they must be standing directly under the decking in their own garden.
And I'm realizing, oh my gosh, this is right below our house. I mean, I kind of recognize it's sort of everything is completely altered because, you know, it's like moonscape now. Taking the switchback trail back up is out of the question. It's still ablaze. But if they can climb up the cliffside right here, they might just be able to make their escape. So we're at the bottom of this cliff and I'm looking up there and it's, you know, it's like pretty sheer.
But this big tree that's probably about 10 feet from the main level up there, 10 feet down this cliff, had this big root that had been exposed because the fire had made the cliff crumble a bunch, right? And so this root had been exposed and it came down the bank to the point where I could just about reach it.
And I knew if I got on that route that I could climb up to at least that tree. And I was thinking maybe from there I could see, you know, what the deal was up at our house or, you know, was it worth getting up there and trying to get up the driveway or is it even worse and should I go downriver? You know, that was my idea was to scout it. And so I got on that route and I started climbing up. Scott goes ahead. It's a treacherous climb as he drags himself up by the exposed tree roots.
Halfway there, he knows there's no turning back. If I'm gonna do this, I gotta do it now, you know what I mean? 'Cause I'm not gonna get back down there. And so I kept coming and I got to this tree, but I'm on the bottom of the cliff side of it, right? And I've gotta get around it to get to the top. And it's like two or three feet across. It's this big old maple tree that was there. And so...
I found that the cliffside was so crumbly that I could kind of just dig into it with my hands and I would find these roots that would be like, you know, a good half an inch or whatever. And I'd just start digging and digging and digging until I could get a handhold on it. And then I'd tug on it as hard as I could to see if it would break and sometimes it would. But if it didn't, then I had a handhold and then I'd go up and I'd dig another one.
And so I dug this whole series of handholds that I could kind of just dangle off that cliff and go from handhold to handhold to get around the tree and get back on top of it. And then once I got back on top of it, I could actually kind of just scramble from there up that extra 10 feet to get to where the house was. Scott holds himself up and over the edge. The plants and trees that surrounded the property mere hours ago are gone.
lovingly tended to for years, wiped out in an instant. The building they went to bed in is a smoking, twisted wreck. Our house was just like not completely flattened because some of the roof, it was all metal roofs and it made these wild and crazy, like looked almost like wings in the air and just a big giant metal roof line on the ground all burned up. The meditation space was completely gone.
If they can get to the driveway and the road beyond, they might yet find their way out.
But first, Scott needs to get Mary Beth and Tuku up the cliff. And so I'm thinking, I've got to get a rope. And so I yelled back to her, you know, stick with that rock. And I'm going to go get a rope and I'll be right back. And in my mind, I wasn't sure how long we'd been out there or anything like that at this point. And I'm thinking, because there's this rest area that's just right, you know, within like
less than a quarter mile of our house, that that would be like a someplace you'd find fire fires and stuff like that, that, you know, that would be a natural gathering area. And then Highway 22 being that main artery, that's got to be like full of people, you know what I mean? So I'm thinking somebody is going to have a rope. Scott runs up the driveway and towards the rest area on the road. But when he gets there, there's no one to be seen.
And so I go running up the driveway and I get onto Railroad Avenue and I'm looking at the rest area and I'm realizing that, oh my God, this has been evacuated for like hours. That there is nobody anywhere. You know, the highway is completely dead of no traffic with any, no sign of anybody. And so I walked up to the highway and I'm looking up and down it as far as the eye can see and it's just like
There's nothing, nobody anywhere. Scott hurries back to what's left of the house. He scours the area for anything he might be able to repurpose as a rope. He rushes next door to his neighbor's outbuilding. There's an all-terrain vehicle, like a quad bike, still sat safely on its trailer. And its wheels are held down by a pair of thick nylon cords. As I'm like groping around in the dark, I realize, oh, this thing is held down by...
Back at the cliff edge, Scott throws down his makeshift line, but it's not long enough.
He has to scramble down ten feet and try again from there. Reaching out, he dangles the cord down to Marybeth. She grabs it, then starts to attach it to the cat carrier. She wants him to pull up Tuku first.
It was just barely long enough that my wife, you know, scrambling up the cliff as much as she could, could get like too good tied to the rope. And so I was able to pull him up and we got him to the tree and then I got him up to the very tip top of the thing.
And in the meantime, Marybeth had figured out a way to get to that because she'd scrambled up and up and she got on that brick thing and she started working her way up that. And so by the time I got to the top, she'd gotten far enough up that I could just throw the rope and she was able to use that to get around it and I could pull her up. With one final heave, Marybeth comes up over the verge. Reunited, they catch their breath.
It's only now that Scott dares to believe they might just be through the worst of it. When we got to the top of that, it was like, oh my God, we're going to survive. You know what I mean? It was really one of those, like the first time since we had run out of the house that it felt like we were actually going to live. Together, they pick their way through the rubble of their home and they stumble out of the property towards the highway.
The long road is desolate, silent, save for the crackle of the flames. There's no sign of life anywhere, just an orange glow all around. But then, up ahead, a new color emerges, a flashing yellow heading their way. And we're walking down Highway 22, and way off in the distance, we see this, like, flashing yellow light, and it's kind of coming slowly towards us. And we're like, oh, God, thank goodness, you know, this is somebody...
And it turned out that that was the guy, the firefighter guy that was out looking for people that were caught in the fire. And he actually had our name because some friends of ours had given our name as like, well, we know these guys can't get connected to cell phone. And so they're probably still there. You know, you might want to check on them. And so he was on his way to our house or our neighborhood to
"Kind of, Steve, were we alive or what?" Steve was like, "God, I'm so glad this is you. You're on my list here of people that I'm looking for." Just a few minutes earlier or later, they would have missed each other on the road. The firefighter tells them that it's noon on Tuesday. They've been fighting for their lives for eight hours. Scott and Mary Beth lost everything that night, except the most important things, each other and Tuku. In the following months, they move from one temporary home to the next,
as they start to piece their lives back together. In time, they learn exactly what happened and just how they were caught so unawares. It seems the devastation was the result of several key factors converging: an exceptionally hot summer, low rainfall, and a freak windstorm. This allowed the Beachy Creek fire to spread from 500 to 100,000 acres in a matter of hours.
The power blackouts cut off communication to the locals, and as the electrified lines blew down in the gusts, the sparks they produced ignited fresh, localized fires, which added to the chaos. By midnight on Monday, September 7, the local authorities were overwhelmed. Even before a single evacuation warning could be sounded, fire crews were being forced to pull back in some areas, such was the intensity of the blaze.
Without a functioning landline or cell coverage, Scott and Mary Beth could have no clue what was unfolding until it literally reached their door. In the end, more than a million acres burned in the worst wildfire in the region for 30 years. 40,000 people were evacuated and 4,000 homes were destroyed. 11 individuals lost their lives. The years since haven't been easy. Mary Beth and Scott have had to start again from scratch.
Tuku had to adapt too, but all in all he led a full and happy life, passing away peacefully in the winter of 2022. Despite everything they've been through, Scott makes it clear that he feels profoundly blessed. In the wake of the disaster, their local community had rallied to support them. I gotta say what we mostly felt was gratitude for being alive for one time and then
Just the way our family and friends stepped up to help us. I mean, my goodness, within days, like people have given me a guitar. We've been given a car to use. We had a place to stay. You know, people who started a GoFundMe for us that, you know, just out of blood, some people didn't even hardly know. Like,
you know, you need to go fund me. What's that? Well, you know, you just need it. Just trust us. You're okay. Um, and so just to have this outpouring, I mean, there were boxes, people were sending stuff and coming by with, you know, donations. And I mean, it was really just, I mean, I almost brings me to tears just thinking about it now, because it was, it was kind of a confirmation of that. We had been living a good life, you know what I mean? And, and, uh,
We'd always been generous and helpful and kind of, you know, service-oriented in our way of being. And so that all came back like tenfold. And it really is heartwarming to this day to think of just that outpouring that continues really to this day. In the next episode, we'll bring you a story from Short History Of, another Noiseless show hosted by me, John Hopkins.
Standing over 29,000 feet above sea level, the peak of Everest is the highest point on planet Earth. To the Sherpa people of the Himalayas, it is sacred. To foreign adventurers, it's the holy grail of climbing. But what did it take to reach the summit? And what was sacrificed to plant a flag on top of the world? The conquest of Everest. That's next time. Normal weekly episodes of Real Survival Stories will resume after a short festive break.
