A long time ago there lived a young man named Hugh. Like everyone in his village, he heard about a king’s daughter who’d been kidnapped and imprisoned in a giant’s castle. He yearned to free her but didn’t know how. While sitting outside his little house, thinking about a possible rescue, he saw a dog limping and brought the dog into his house. When he saw a large thorn in the dog’s paw, he carefully removed the thorn, bathed the paw, and took him back outside. The dog seemed to show he wished Hugh to follow him. Some distance from his house, a woman known as a bean feasa (a woman of knowledge) gratefully hugged her dog and thanked Hugh for helping him.

Hugh told her of his desire to rescue the king’s daughter. The woman told him. “It will be very hard, with many obstacles and dangers, but if you follow my directions, you will succeed.” She gave him a large shell. Stretched across it were silver cords. When the woman touched the cords, Hugh heard the sweetest music he’d ever heard. “Take this shell. You will come to the Valley of Weasels but if you touch the strings, they will not harm you. You will come to a dark. dense wood. Touch the strings and you will pass. Next you must pass a deep quarry. Touch the strings and your way will be clear.” With this, she gave him a large oat cake to eat on his way.

Just as the woman said, the weasels let him pass, the trees gave way to a path, the quarry rose up and he walked to safety on the stones. As he was resting, eating a bit of the oat cake, a tiny bird fell out of its nest. Hugh gently put it back. Suddenly a little man appeared and handed Hugh a feather. “When you see a seagull, take this feather and touch the bird.” The man vanished.

After walking for quite a time, Hugh sat down under an old oak tree to eat a bit more oat cake. He looked up and saw a bat entangled in ivy, unable to move. Hugh climbed the tree, released the bat, and put it safely on a large branch. As he climbed down, the little man suddenly reappeared, handing Hug a bat’s wing. “If you turn this around three times in your right hand darkness will fall about you for a short time.” Just as quickly the little man disappeared.

Passing by a hedge, Hugh heard the sound of a creature in pain. Following the sound, he saw a cat down in a deep well, unable to climb out. Hugh took off his coat and lowered it into the well. The cat snagged it with her paws and Hugh lifted her to safety. Hugh was putting on his coat when the little man reappeared. He handed Hugh a cat’s eye and said, “Take this. If you hold it in front of you the darkest way will become light and clear.” Once again he disappeared.

Hugh had not walked far when he came to a massive stone castle. When he saw the sad face of a young woman he knew he had found the princess. The giant saw Hugh and waved his club. His wife raised her wand. Suddenly there were whirlpools of water all around the castle.

Discouraged, Hugh looked around and saw a seagull perched on the bank. Remembering the little man’s advice, he touched the seagull with the feather. The bird suddenly grew so large he carried Hugh across the water onto steps then flew away.

The giant and his wife rushed down to catch Hugh but he waved the bat’s wing and they fell down into the water and disappeared.
By the light of the cat’s eye, Hugh climbed the stairs and found Maca, the daughter of the King of Ulster. Shocked to see Hugh, she told him, “One spring morning the giant found me gathering violets and carried me off. My home is far away, near the western coast. I” . . .  She could not say more.

 “Do not worry,” Hugh told her, “I will help you return to your home. Come with me.”

Hugh and Maca descended the steps where the seagull sat. Hugh touched it with the feather and it grew large enough for them to ride on its back, flying them over lakes and mountains and valleys until they reached the blue hills of Donegal. They dismounted. The bird flew away.

The king and queen joyfully greeted their daughter, listening attentively as Maca told them how Hugh helped her escape, about his courage and kindness. “You are a brave man,” said the king. I should like to make you one of the chieftains of the Kingdom.”

“I am honored,” said Hugh, looking at Maca.

She smiled and said to her father, looking at Hugh, “I have already given him my heart, please allow him to take my hand.” 

And so it was.

It rained the night before. The morning is cold and damp. Not the best weather for spelunking but I hope the weather at the cave will be better. It isn’t. “I don’t think we should go in,” I tell Mike, the leader. “It’s too cold and wet.”

He dismisses my worries, buoyed by the group’s obvious enthusiasm. “I think it will be fine, but if you’re afraid to go, you can sit in the truck and wait for us.” His obvious disdain feels like a challenge. I agree to go. We buddy up

The hike to the cave is mostly on slippery wet stones and muddy earth. Each step feels like a dare: continue or go back? I want to stop. I want to go. I keep going.

At the mouth of the cave there are what look like three entrances. The leader suggests we enter the middle one, which is higher than the two on either side. I volunteer to be sweep, no surprise to anyone. (A sweep is always the last person in the group. If someone needs to stop, the sweep stops and waits for the person to start moving.)

We start in. The cold, damp air feels thick. Water drips from above. I get out my rain jacket and put the hood up. It’s harder to walk upright. Jack, my buddy, who’s in front of me, stops, takes my hand and asks. “How are you doing?” I never have a chance to answer. 

Loud crashing sounds. Rocks falling. Screams. I put my hands over my head to protect myself. Rocks blocking the way in and out. Silence. Fear blocking my vision and hearing. 

I can’t see Jack but holding his hand calms me. “Can you push your way out?” he asks.

All I can see is a pile of rocks but they don’t look solid. “I’ll try. Can you see the others?” 

“No,” he says. “They were going fast and I decided to stay close to you.”

“I’ll try to get you out,” I tell him.

“No. I’m okay for a while. I can move a little. I don’t know about the others. The keys for Mike’s truck are under the front passenger seat. If you can get out, go to the ranger station and ask for a rescue team.”

Remembering the advice we’ve been given: in a crisis, remember to breathe. I breathe. Then, carefully. I push the top and heaviest stones down and to the side until I have a small opening but it’s big enough to push my backpack through the hole, then squeeze my body through, scraping my cheek as I move. Wiping away the blood with my bandana, I slowly make my way through the tunnel, creating a kind of path as I push aside fallen stones.

Being able to stand up is a relief. Being able to reach the mouth of the cave fills me with gratitude. Shivering from cold and wet and fright, I run in heavily falling rain to Mike’s truck, find the keys, and drive as quickly as I can, toward what I hope is the ranger station. 
As I’m trying to figure out where to go, I see a couple trudging through the rain and offer them a lift. I ask if they know where the ranger station is. “Our car is parked there,” says the woman, I’ll tell you where to go.” She asks about the cut on my face, which is still bleeding. I tell her about the cave-in. She has a thermos of hot tea and offers me a cup. When we get to the ranger station she offers to treat the cut. I thank her but first I need to tell the ranger about the cave-in.

The ranger asks a slew of questions: how many people, where we entered, what I can tell her about the cave-in, then puts out the call for rescue. She says she’ll follow my truck, that Search and Rescue will meet us at the cave. 

At the entrance to the cave, I show them where we started and describe the route and conditions as best I can. No way can I go back in. I sit in the truck, praying for their safety, for their rescue. 

Jack is the first person out. Relieved he’s safe, I give him a big hug. He’s pretty badly bruised but otherwise okay. We sit in the truck, waiting to hear about the fate of the six still trapped in the cave. Jack reminds me we need to eat and drink. We wait. Wait. Wait.

The rain stops. I hope this is a good sign. The sun comes out. I hope this is a good omen.

Eventually Search and Rescue find and rescue the six people in the cave. Ambulances take then to the hospital to be checked. Jack and I follow in the truck.

A day filled with fear ends well.


How do you respond during a crisis?

The medicine I was taking to keep leukemia at bay had to be kept frozen. Not a problem until the power went out during the night and was still out when I woke up. One of my neighbors tried to drive to work and told me there were so many downed trees and wires it didn’t seem possible power would be restored any time soon

I had to take out one of the bottles to inject myself and noticed the ice around the package was no longer hard. I began to worry. If the ice packs melted what would happen to the medicine? Would it spoil? Would I have to find someone to drive me more than two hours to the National Cancer Institute in Maryland to get refills? What about the downed trees? Time passed. The power remained out. I had to force myself not to open the freezer to check.

Around 4pm there was a knock on the front door. I opened it to see an exhausted uniformed man, holding a box. After introducing himself, verifying his credentials, confirming I was Nancy King, on interferon, he said, “You’re on a list for people who take medication needing to be kept frozen. With so many trees down it’s been hard to get to you and some others.”

“List? I didn’t know I was on a list. What does it mean.?”

“It means I have a box of dry ice to put your medicine in to keep it frozen or as cold as possible until power is restored. It’s a bit tricky. Would you like me to do it?”

“Yes, please.” He followed me into the kitchen, opened the freezer, placed the dry ice, strategically around the bottles of interferon, closed the freezer and leaned against the refrigerator, as if too weary to move.

“You look tired. Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a gas stove so I can heat water.”

“If it’s not too much trouble. It’s been a long day. Started at 5 this morning.” I suggested he wait in the living room and brewed coffee. He was asleep, lying against a couch cushion when I brought a tray with coffee and apple cake. I wondered if I should wake him. Fortunately, the smell of coffee woke him. 

He apologized for sleeping. I told him there was no need, I was grateful for his help. He looked a bit less tired after drinking and eating, which made me feel better about his effort to ensure my medicine would stay frozen. What a gift he had given me.

The power came back on during the night. My medicine was fine. 


What help have you received during an emergency?