Classic Cahill. A long read, but worth it.
From the story:
My face turned blue, I’m told, then gray, and then my heart stopped beating altogether. Flatlined. I died that December day on Tequila Beach. This created a great deal of consternation—and it has tended to complicate my relationships with others ever since.
I was, at the time, 71 years old, and most of my team was half my age or less. These fine and foolish folk had every reason to imagine that I had all the skills necessary to handle a winter trip down the Grand Canyon.
I had a history of that sort of thing.Â
