Into the Abyss (39 page)

When it came to chronicling a life, none was more difficult than that of my father, Larry Shaben. I knew him in the loving but limited way that an adoring daughter knows a dad. Delving into the messy emotional terrain of his years of struggle was both terrifying and gratifying: terrifying because I didn’t know what I would find or how it might change my memory of him; gratifying because it allowed me to discover in my father a man of exceptional character who I never fully appreciated
while he was alive. For helping me complete the picture, love and gratitude are due to my siblings, Larry, James and Joan, and to my sister Linda for also being my muse, escape hatch and personal chef when I was far too close to the edge.

To my mother, Alma, I owe immeasurably more than love and gratitude: I owe who I am. You are grace and generosity personified, Mom, and your love has seen me through so much more than this book.

The family I was born to is not my only family. Love and thanks go to Sharon, Baha and Yasmeen Abu-Laban for their unwavering faith and devotion. Nor could I have written this book without the incredible support of my community of friends, particularly the moms and dads of Dunbar who helped care for my boys and cheer me along. Among them, I’d particularly like to acknowledge Sue Climie for many inspiring talks and walks; Stacey Shaw for being an irrepressible friend and fan; Liz O’Malley for her non-stop encouragement and 6:00 a.m. smile as I sat bleary-eyed and exhausted on a spin bike; and Annette O’Shea, for dragging me from my desk for pho and joining me in the soul-restoring therapy of putting our hands in the earth.

Writing can be a lonely pursuit and I am indebted to those who have shared the journey with me over the past decade, in particular my dear friend Cori Howard and my writing group, The Lyin’ Bastards: Nancy Lee, John Vigna, Denise Ryan, Dina Del Bucchia, Keri Korteling, Judy McFarlane and Sally Breen. Thanks for holding me up and pushing me forward and, of course, for the finely observed critiques, cheap wine and good eats. I also wish to thank the extraordinarily wise and wonderful Andreas Schroeder, and the many other talented writers and professors in the University of British Columbia’s Creative Writing Program who gave me my start. In addition, acknowledgement is due to the incomparable Geoff Le Boutillier for first igniting a small flame that would grow to a roaring fire.

Along the complex and difficult road of researching and reconstructing the events of a decades-old crash and its aftermath, I owe thanks to a plethora of people including Rosemary Richards, librarian extraordinaire at the Transportation Safety Board of Canada; Captain Lisa Evong, chief of the air staff, Air Force Public Affairs, Department of National Defence Canada; Diane Sweet, CBC Edmonton’s senior media librarian;
Jean-François Coulombe, senior analyst at the Library and Archives Canada; Debra Dittrick, library assistant at the
Edmonton Journal
; and Diana Rinne, news and assignment editor for Grande Prairie’s
Daily Herald Tribune
. From my hometown of High Prairie, I am indebted to Luella Wood for sharing her sharp recollections and meticulously documented personal papers, and Kevin Cox and Charlie Goutier of Cox Contracting Ltd., for helping to clarify and recreate details of the overland rescue route.

For the opportunity to fly, and their trust in letting me take the controls of their small plane, I give my heartfelt thanks to Lisa Shemko and David Speirs, pilots, friends and fellow Fastlane swim club compatriots. Particular appreciation goes to Dave for his impeccable attention to detail in reviewing and editing the technical aviation sections of the book.

I owe to-the-moon-and-back love to my son, Max, who let me disappear into my office for hours, even days on end, allowed me to miss countless school field trips and soccer and hockey games, and weathered the emotional rollercoaster of this project with such maturity and strength. Max, you inspire me every day. In you, I see the wisdom, character and generosity of your grandfather and know that the best part of him lives on in you.

Finally, to my husband, Riyad: words can’t begin to express my gratitude. This book exists because of your faith, editorial acumen, Sherpa-esque endurance, patience and love. Thank you for being my partner in crime and all things of the heart.