Me and David on his birthday in 1977 or 1978, I think... Every year on this day, I celebrate the fact my big brother was born. And I mourn the fact that he isn't growing any older, since he died almost 15 years ago. Today, David would have turned 62. Sixty-two! An age that, when... Continue Reading →
You know it’s been a long time when you think it is the 15th anniversary of a death and then realize, counting backwards, that it's actually the 14th, and your brain has done bad math again. It might as well be the 100th, it feels so long. Or the first, all over again, because there's... Continue Reading →
Today marks my big brother David's 60th birthday. I doubt he ever imagined himself at 60, so youthful was his entire sense of being, but I do. I try to picture him every year on March 13, marking the march of time, celebrating that he was born, guessing at how he'd look each year, and... Continue Reading →
I often wonder how my brother David would have reacted to developments in the world had he lived. Would he have joined Facebook? Probably — he would have liked creating photo albums of his trips and carrying on conversations in threads with other athletes. I think Instagram would have delighted him, with his penchant for... Continue Reading →
“When he's free soloing, it's when he feels the most..." Honnold's mother starts saying to the camera and pauses, so that I think something else is coming: ...the most alive, the most excited, the most successful. “It's when he feels the most,” she then reiterates, and leaves it there. “How can you take that away... Continue Reading →
Anne Pinkerton 