56 | July• 2019
LOST IN THE WOODS
rs, Jean
and Jack ch oth-
er. Then, in December 2016, Jean
walked into their bucolic back-
yard and found Jack crumpled on
the ground. Seemingly in perfect
health, he had died of a massive
heart attack. He was 72.
In the following months, Jean de-
voured books on grief and loss, hop-
ing she would find the will to go on
without him. One task she thought
could help: Jack had told Jean that
when he died he wanted half of his
ashes scattered in Hawaii and half
in Olympic National Park, about a
25-minute drive from their home in
Port Angeles, Washington State. So in
March 2017, Jean dutifully flew to Ha-
waii to disperse the first part of Jack’s
remains in the ocean. She dreaded
the thought of parting with Jack so
put off spreading the rest of Jack’s
ashes until she was ready. That day
came four months later on July 17.
Jean, 71, took the urn holding Jack’s
remains, grabbed Yoda, her five-year-
old Chihuahua mix, and climbed into
her 2004 Ford Explorer. It was 4pm.
A slight woman, just 1.5 metres tall,
Jean wore capri pants, a Hawaiian
shirt and canvas espadrilles. No
need for a coat on what should be a
30-minute walk. She planned to be
home in time to make dinner.
With its dramatic peaks and old-
growth forests, Olympic National
Park covers nearly 400,000 sprawl-
ing hectares. Jean was heading for
one special spot off Obstruction
Point Road, a 13-kilometre dirt and
gravel by way. She drove in about five
kilometres, pulled her Explorer overJACK HAD
FREQUENTLY
TEASED HER
ABOUT
HER TERRIBLE
SENSE
OF DIRECTIONPHOTO, PREVIOUS SPREAD: JOSEPH SOHM/SHUTTERSTOCK