Weeks passed. The avalanche came on October 29, while they slept. A wall of snow and ice ripped through the fuselage, burying them alive. Eight more died, suffocated, crushed. The survivors dug themselves out with bare hands, screaming into the white darkness.
Of the 45 people on board, 12 died instantly or within hours. The survivors—29 of them—huddled in the broken shell of the plane, which had slid to a stop on a glacier at 3,570 meters (11,700 feet). The cold was a living thing, a predator with teeth of frost.
On December 12, 1972—72 days after the crash—Nando Parrado, Roberto Canessa, and a third survivor named Antonio "Tintín" Vizintín began the climb. They wore boots stuffed with seat-cushion foam. They carried a sleeping bag made of insulation wiring. They had no oxygen. No ropes.
They called themselves La Sociedad de la Nieve —The Society of the Snow. Not a team anymore. Not a crew. A family forged in the only furnace that matters: the will to live.
And he wept.
Compass
41 The Plaza
Locust Valley, NY 11560
The Dee Dee Brix Team