Hillary & the Crash That Killed Me

If Hillary Clinton wasn't at Dartmouth that day, I might not have died. It was a bad day ... overcast ... snowy ... cold ... dark ... Lebanon airport, New Hampshire at 5:00 pm on Thursday, December 2, 1993. Just my luck, Hillary was there ... We were on the taxiway, ready to take off ... then the tower ordered us to abort. Hillary's jetliner had priority over our four-seater. We were told to use a different runway. Klaus and Harry frantically tried to reprogram our flight computer. Hillary took off. Minutes later, we took off ... We were too low when we turned the wrong way ... We never saw the mountain ... We were still climbing when the trees took us down. Three men died on the mountain that night. One came back. Being dead was a delight. Coming back was painful. This is my story. I'm Ed.