Hi all,

Sending prares to all in vaulted  hope everything will be ok,.


matthew dyer 
sent from my 27 inch iMac.



facebook, facetime and iMessage: ilovecountrymusic...@gmail.com

Skype: graduater2004




On Oct 25, 2013, at 9:38 PM, Cara Quinn <caraqu...@caraquinn.com> wrote:

> Hi All,
> 
> I normally would never ever allow any messages here about donations. IN this 
> case though, this situation very much warrants this.
> 
> One of our listers and a dear friend of mine, has had an extreme tragedy with 
> a loved one and I am officially asking for donations on his behalf.
> 
> Even a single dollar will be greatly appreciated here.
> 
> Now, before anyone objects to this, there is a time and a place to allow a 
> note like this. This is that time and place. This is simply the right thing 
> to do, and I know that when you read the below account, you will agree with 
> me.
> 
> If anyone takes issue with this then I urge you to write me privately and 
> furthermore I extend my deepest apologies for wasting your time.
> 
> For those who would like to donate, there is a PayPal button on the following 
> page.
> 
> http://www.markburninghawk.net/music.html 
> 
> You may read this story at Mark's FaceBook page and I've also pasted it below.
> 
> Again for those for whom this is an issue, remember, your delete key works 
> just fine in this instance. :) thanks for obliging me.
> 
> FaceBook link and story are below this note.
> 
> Thanks to all of you for being here and making these lists what they are.
> 
> I wish you and yours all a wonderful weekend and thank you very much for 
> whatever donations you can share.
> 
> Take care of each other. :)
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Cara quinn
> 
> Mark Baxter FaceBook
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/markburninghawk.baxter
> 
> 
> The Story
> 
> Last Saturday afternoon, taking advantage of the beautiful weather before the 
> rainy winter arrived, Amy and I decided to go for a short hike.  We drove to 
> the Damnation Creek trail head on HWY 101, near Klamath, CA, and intended to 
> be back at our car within a couple of hours, as it was already late 
> afternoon, and would get dark soon.
> 
> Ezra was guiding me as usual, and Luke was shepherding us all as usual, and 
> we were both enjoying the rugged landscape and giant redwood trees.  Softly 
> scented air was dappled with sun and shade as the trail first descended, then 
> wound up to a narrow wooden bridge, at a fork with the Coastal Loop trail.
> 
> We decided to venture a ways down the Coastal Loop trail, hoping it would 
> "loop," back to the footbridge.  No such luck.
> 
> At first, the trail, mostly composed of an old highway and well maintained, 
> was great for hiking, so we continued.  By the time it got narrow and steep 
> again, and Amy could see the ocean through the trees ahead, we needed to turn 
> back; it was getting dark.
> 
> We tiredly turned and made our way back down the trail, until we were mostly 
> back to the footbridge.  We stopped to catch our breaths and let the dogs 
> pee, and somehow, Amy fell.  I heard her fall, cry out, then a crash, then 
> nothing.  I called out, "AMY!  Amy, can you answer me?"  I heard nothing for 
> a few minutes.
> 
> When I heard a sound, I didn't think it was a human making it.  It was Amy 
> screaming.
> 
> I had to get down the cliff she had fallen over, to ascertain her condition.  
> I somewhat climbed, mostly fell down to where she was.  She had landed badly, 
> on her back, on the rocks at the bottom of an old creek bed.  Luke was with 
> her, and Ezra followed me down.
> 
> Her screams of pain were constant, long and loud.  She kept saying, "NO! NO! 
> NO!" over and over, and told me, "I can't feel my legs!"  I sat for a while, 
> held her hand, listened to her scream.  I knew I had to somehow get help.
> 
> I had my iPhone 5 with me, but when I checked, I had no service.  There was 
> no way I could move Amy; she was far too badly injured to climb up the cliff. 
>  I had to climb up the cliff, helping Ezra up with me, and find a place where 
> I had enough cell service to call 911 and get a rescue team in to get Amy.
> 
> So, as she screamed, I tucked my maroon sweatshirt carefully under her head, 
> and said, "Baby, I love you; I will be back with help, I have to go get 
> help."  She just kept on screaming.
> 
> I found a chimney up the cliff, hauled Ezra up and got back to the trail, 
> which was fortunately very well-defined.  I still had no service.
> 
> I had no choice but to walk with Ezra guiding me down the trail until I could 
> call 911.  Fortunately, Ezra was able to follow the trail, even in the dark.  
> Luke also had come up with us, and stuck close to us.
> 
> We walked about a quarter mile until I got one bar of cell coverage.  With 
> that one bar, having to call back ten or twelve times, I got 911 to contact 
> the sheriff, who sent in the volunteer search and rescue team to find us.
> 
> There was some consternation when I told the sheriff that I couldn't give 
> visual landmarks.  I explained that I was blind, had been hiking with my 
> sighted girlfriend, and she had fallen.  I gave them the names of the trails, 
> but, No, I did not think I could get back to my vehicle, and no I couldn't 
> describe where I was.  I told them about the bridge at the trail fork.  Then 
> my iPhone battery got dangerously low.  They had my GPS coordinates by that 
> time, so I settled down to wait, calling out from time to time, in case they 
> could hear me.
> 
> That didn't stop the SAR people from hitting the trail, so I was told.  I was 
> growing cold now, shivering in just sweats and a T-shirt.  I had given Amy my 
> sweatshirt.
> 
> I walked with Luke and Ezra back to the footbridge.  The creek under it 
> whispered, defining the silence of the woods at night.   Luke alternately 
> huddled against me and padded back and forth over the bridge.  Ezra sat 
> close, being calm and patient.  I had done all I could do.
> 
> I began intermittently shouting, "HELLO!  HELLO!"  Finally, about four hours 
> later, my voice hoarse from dehydrating, shivering from cold, I heard a very 
> faint, "HELLO! Are you Mark!?"  Oh yes, I was Mark all right.
> 
> A few minutes later, a woman named Renelle ran up to me on the bridge, 
> followed by her partner Mel.  Luke led them to where Amy had fallen, and they 
> found her.  I got under a space blanket and drank water.
> 
> It wasn't over.  Amy couldn't move, and they had to get more people with a 
> back board and stretcher to get her up the cliff, and then we all had about 
> three miles of hiking out to do.  Luke stayed with Amy and the rest of the 
> team, while Mel, Ezra and I started the long hike back to the highway.
> 
> As we hiked along--by now it was about three thirty in the morning, pitch 
> dark save for Mel's flashlight--he soon discovered that Ezra and I could 
> navigate our way ahead better than he could try and guide me.  As we walked, 
> we talked about Ezra, Guiding Eyes for the Blind, the school that trained 
> him, about dogs in general.  Mostly he was just trying to take my mind off 
> what had just happened. 
> 
> I realized that Ezra and Luke were the real heroes of this night.  Tired and 
> limping, Ezra nevertheless led me where I needed to go, avoiding obstacles in 
> the dark and finding sure footing.  Luke led the rescue team to Amy, and kept 
> me safe while I waited for them. I have not yet stop sending my gratitude to 
> Dog for walking with me, for saving our lives.
> 
> The last 0.7 miles was all up-hill, switchbacks and rock steps.  As beat-up 
> and tired as I was, I cannot imagine what it was like for Amy to be 
> stretcher-borne out of there.  I saw her briefly at the ambulance; she was in 
> shock, but she said, "Thank you, you did the best thing you could…"
> 
> I got a ride home from a park ranger.  I had Amy's car towed home.  By then 
> it was 4:45 in the morning.  I put the dogs to bed and just sat there for the 
> next hour giving my thanks.
> 
> Luke came home with me and is subdued, confused and sad. 
> 
> Amy was taken to Sutter General Hospital in Crescent City.  There, she was 
> determined to have a broken thoracic spine, three broken ribs and a collapsed 
> lung.  As of now, she is either en route to or in surgery at OHS in Portland. 
>  No one will tell me anything.
> 
> The dogs and I are still recovering. I'm sore all over, Ezra is sore and 
> tired and Luke is being perfectly behaved for me while he waits for Amy to 
> return.
> 
> It's far from over, but this is an update.  I am anxiously waiting for news 
> of Amy.  I frankly have no idea what comes next.
> ---
> View my Online Portfolio at:
> 
> http://www.onemodelplace.com/CaraQuinn
> 
> Follow me on Twitter!
> 
> https://twitter.com/ModelCara
> 
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