Hi. I am Wilson Gentry and this is the story of  how I died. 

One morning on July 28th,  1935,  I woke up, got dressed, and looked over at my partner. 

Still asleep. “Amelia wake up!” 

She would not wake up no matter how much I shook her. Finally, she roused and said, “What do you want? I don’t  feel good today.”¨Ok, umm, go back to sleep. I am going to explore.”   

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”   

So I went off, going to the only village in miles. I went in to get some carving and new snow boots from the local store. The locals were very nice and did not harm a  soul. They love to meet outsiders, always talking, but this early morning it was like a ghost town–quiet, and not a soul seeming ready to chat. As I sat at a booth at the village diner and sipped on my coffee, the morning rush took things from quiet to loud as people rushed in to talk and place their orders. 

That was my cue to leave, so I did, walking out and beginning my journey to the great icy mountains of Alaska.  I walked about an hour until all I could see was snow and ice. By the time I finally got to the icy mountains, it was time to start my ascent. I kept walking until I heard something and looked over to see a big mountain goat. By the time I got out my camera to take a pic of the goat, a big brown bear charged in and attacked the goat, killing it. 

Shocked and fearful, I ran away and hid in a cave. To my amazement, it glittered and shined in the cold, an amazing, pretty blue.  I took my camera out again and took pics of everything, including a crack in the ice, though not like a natural crack, but as if made by big claws. It should have been a warning to get out, but I kept going deeper into the cave until I saw a big shadow in the ice. I got out my tools and began to chisel. I spent two hours chiseling at this monstrous shadow, not knowing what it was. 

Finally, I got deep enough to realize what it was: a big brown bear, somewhere between eighteen and twenty feet high with paws as big as the wheels on the snow truck. I chiseled around ‘til it came loose, and as I shook it, it moved a bit. I was so concentrated on seeing what the shadow in the ice was that I did not realize the ice beneath me was cracking and slightly caving in. I kept going without a break, on and on. By the time I got the bear out, I knew it was the best discovery of all time. 

Then I heard it. CRAAACKK, CRICKET, CRACK. I looked down to see the ground beneath me looked kind of like a broken window about to break.

 I went to take a step off the ice and…CRACK! I fell right through the ice. I fell something like twenty feet down until I hit a ledge in the ice. I could not feel my legs, nor could I move them. It’s like I went paralyzed. I screamed for help. Thank God I had my radio. I tried to signal to Amilia, but got nothing. No signal. I was stuck and I was bleeding bad from a cut in my side from the impact of my fall. 

I yelled in frustration, then looked up to see the bear wobble a bit as if my screams moved it. SLAM! It fell right over it, blocking my light. I screamed and screamed for hours, days, but it was no use. I was there for three days, cold, alone. I could not scream any more. I just lay there. I watched the little bit of light from the crack slowly disappear as I felt my eyes flutter shut, losing feeling in my body. Last I knew it I was laying there lifeless, cold yet not feeling the cold, my bones broken. Finally, it was over, my last thought was this: What if I had told someone where I was going?