Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival
Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival
Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival
Ebook312 pages4 hours

Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5/5

()

Read preview

About this ebook

“Breathtaking....Crazy for the Storm will keep you up late into the night.”
Washington Post Book World

 

Norman Olstead’s New York Times bestselling memoir Crazy for the Storm is the story of the harrowing plane crash the author miraculously survived at age eleven, framed by the moving tale of his complicated relationship with his charismatic, adrenaline-addicted father. Destined to stand with other classic true stories of man against nature—Into Thin Air and Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer; Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm—it is a literary triumph that novelist Russell Banks (Affliction) calls, “A heart-stopping story beautifully told….Norman Olstead has written a book that may well be read for generations.”

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateJun 2, 2009
ISBN9780061886430
Author

Norman Ollestad

Norman Ollestad was born in Los Angeles in 1967 and grew up in Malibu. He studied creative writing at UCLA and graduated from UCLA Film School. He is the author of a novel, ‘Driftwood’, and several screenplays. He is the father of a son, Noah, and resides in Venice, California.

Related to Crazy for the Storm

Related ebooks

Related articles

Reviews for Crazy for the Storm

Rating: 3.468879654771784 out of 5 stars
3.5/5

241 ratings34 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Norman shares his life growing up with his father and the actual plane crash in alternating chapters; both of which were captivating. There was never a dry patch, and I was very touched by the relationship that Norman and his dad developed. The attitude of his dad made me smile and was infectious - it's one of life's lessons that I will take away with me.I truly appreciated Norman's story and wanted to give it a 4.5/5; however, two relatively large aspects of the book prevented me from doing so. First is the fact that there were no quotation marks around the dialog. It wasn't difficult to read, but it would have been easier had they been used. Second, the detailed descriptions of surfing, skiing and surviving were somewhat difficult to follow. I'm not familiar with the lingo, so often I couldn't visualize particular events. Gratefully, there was one picture provided, and it added so much to my experience - I would have loved to have seen more. All the best to you, Norman. (4.25/5)Originally posted on: Thoughts of Joy
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is a story of survival after a plane crash but more so a story of love and strength. It is the '70s, and "Little Norman" Ollestad is 11 years old and growing up on the ocean in California. His mom and dad are divorced, and he lives with his mom and her boyfriend Nick, but the story mostly revolves around the relationship between Little Norman and his dad, "Big Norman" Ollestad. Big Norman is a lawyer by day and a surfer/skier/all-around daredevil the rest of the time. He loves his sports and loves living on the edge and is trying to teach Little Norman the beauty of that way of life. At times, his "training" of Little Norm seems harsh, but in the end, it saves his life. This is an amazing book that I couldn't put down. Definitely one of the best memoirs I've ever read!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Little Norman Ollestad was raised on the beach in California, where his attorney dad spent every free minute surfing. Of course, Dad wants Norman learn to surf, too--and to ski! He doesn't seem to care that Norman is a timid little kid, who really doesn't want to be pushed into these activities. But push, he does.Perhaps it's a good thing, because when Norman is eleven, he is a passenger in a small plane that crashes into a California mountain. The skills he has learned from the grueling training his dad has put him through help keep him alive as he scales down the steep ice and snow covered incline during a huge storm. Amazingly he walks out, although hope had died that there were any survivors on the plane.The story is told in alternating chapters of Norman's life with his dad, and his perilous trek down the mountain. At first this felt awkward, but as we drew closer to the end, it seemed to work better, and the reader can understand why the author (little Norman himself) chose to tell his story in this manner.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The author tells the true story of how he survived--as an 11 year old boy--a plane crash that left him stranded at the top of an ice covered mountain. To survive he had to make his way down an ice covered slope that threatened to send him tumbling down the treacherous chute at it's center. As he describes this remarkable feat, he explains how the lessons his father taught him were the real reason that he survived. In flashbacks he describes his childhood--a childhood filled with surfboards, skiing, the breakup of his parents, and an antagonistic new boyfriend of his mother's.I enjoyed the survival parts of this story...I kept listening to see just how he was going to make it off of that mountain. Some of the descriptions of his youth are pretty wild and pretty interesting as well, but some parts it drug a bit. Still, I would recommend it to anyone who likes true tales of survival.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    First-person survival story--pilot, father & father's girlfriend were killed in a plane crash. The author (at 11) was the only survivor. I liked the relationship between the father and son--the unconventional upbringing that probably contributed to his ability to reach civilization following the crash. I didn't like how the book jumped back and forth abruptly between past and present. I enjoy listening to an author read his own book as he can convey the drama in a way that only a person who was there can. Unfortunately, Norman Ollestad was a horrible reader with a monotone that was about enough to put you to sleep in a book that should keep you on your toes. Kudos for surviving, kudos for writing a book. Don't do any more narrations!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Young Norman Ollstad shared a tight bond with his reckless, charismatic father, a man who pushed his son to excel in dangerous sports such as surfing and skiing. When a terrible small-engine plane crash results in 11-year-old Norman being stranded at the side of a California mountain, the survival skills his father taught him serve him well.Crazy for the Storm is not the easiest book to read. The chronology jumps around and the narrative is sprinkled with jargon from skateboarding, surfing and skiing. I had a hard time picturing the action, and in the scenes that take place after the plane crash, young Ollstad doesn't come across as an eleven-year-old boy at all, but as an adult man. Even in such an extreme situation, he has an implausible knowledge of what to do next. Despite these reservations, however, I found this tribute to an unusually strong father-son relationship unexpectedly moving.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The book was compelling and well-written; you wanted to find out what happened to young Norman in the end. However, the book is not for persons easily offended by language and sexual innuendo. Beach culture is not a pretty thing. Still Norman managed to craft a life for himself that appreciated his father's rather cavalier approach towards introducing his son to danger. And, his adult self could see both the good and the bad in his mother's boyfriend's interactions with him.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Well, all I can say is wow, I can't believe I read this. Let's see... the crash story is interesting. Other than that? Hmmm... If you've ever felt like you wanted to learn more about a rich spoiled arrogant "surf kid" and how shallow he can possibly be, this is as good as it gets - bonus, you get to learn about his views on life as if they were incredibly deep and prophetic. About 4 times longer than it should have been, tthis book had some interesting tidbits about life on Topango Beach, CA in the 70s... perhaps a chapter's worth. Another high point: Mr Ollestad is a decent narrator.
  • Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
    1/5
    Crazy for the Storm by Norman Ollestad is a autobiography. Norman lives with his mother and her abusive husband Nick. they live in the inland of California. Normans dad lives off the coast of California with his girlfriend Sandra. Normans dad is all about skiing. one trip with Norman and Sandra, the plane crashes into a mountian. "in less than 9 hours, 2 are dead." This book was really bad. the beginning was boring and i didnt want to read it at all. It had no action what so ever and was not very well written. its set up was weird. it would bounce back and forth to before and during the crash. I rate this a 1/2 a star.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In February 1979, a small chartered plane carrying the author, then 11 years old, his father, his father's girlfriend, and the hired pilot crashed into the side of a Southern California mountain. This memoir is the remarkable story told some 30 years later. Little Norm grew up surfing, skiing, skateboarding, and was pushed and challenged beyond any normal expectations by his dad, who claimed that competing wasn't about winning, not always with complete conviction. Big Norm was an attorney, had been a child actor and an FBI agent who wrote a book exposing some of the FBI's dirty little secrets. Among other things, his dad took Little Norm on a needlessly dangerous trip to Mexico, always confident that things would work out. Ultimately, the tough training saved the author's life. I am not a surfer, skier, or skateboarder, so some of the sports terms were foreign to me and the descriptions seemed overly detailed. For me, some of the language was a little too...flowery isn't the right word, but something close to that. Chapters about the author's early life are interspersed with chapters about the flight and the hours after the crash, and the book included a section of photographs that really added to the story. Crazy for the Storm was a sad, interesting, worthwhile read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Norman exposes his thoughts about his father and how they prepared him for the crash that he experienced. Through the alternating back story of his childhood right before the crash and the events of his survival, Norman makes you feel like you truly understand what he went through as a child and in the immediate aftermath of the crash. An engaging read that was difficult to put down.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I requested a review copy of Norman Ollestad’s Crazy for the Storm because I imagined it would be similar to Krakauer’s Into Thin Air, which I had read and enjoyed several years ago. Although the cover of Ollestad’s book advertises that it is a memoir of survival, it was fairly different from what I had expected. The chapters alternate between eleven-year-old Norman’s ordeal as the sole survivor of a small plane crash on a treacherous, icy mountain slope with the events in his life that lead up to the day of the crash. The chapters dealing with the crash are much shorter than the others, and I was glad of it. Although I found myself rooting for young Norman, I was not really caught up in his adventure. I just could not visualize what was happening. (This was also true of sections of the book that detailed his surfing experiences.) Maybe it is because I neither ski nor surf and I don’t know the lingo that I just could not clearly picture the scenes. Then again, I have never climbed Mt. Everest (or any other mountain, for that matter), yet I was totally mesmerized by Krakauer’s book.The parts I did enjoy in Crazy for the Storm were the chapters that explored the relationship between Norman and his Dad. A man with great charisma and a love of the exhilarating excitement of both skiing and surfing, Norman’s father inspired both love and exasperation in his son. Crazy for the Storm explores the bonds that existed between the two and the legacy left to Norman after the crash.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A son's experience of his own father’s unconventional approach to parenting, and how it led to the boy’s ability to survive in a situation his father had not planned—the crash of their chartered Cessna into a mountainside. Ollestad recounts between his travels with his surfer father, his life with his mother and her abusive boyfriend, and his fight for life as the lone survivor of the plane crash. It is a story of both a father’s successes and his failures, and is as much about surviving the actions of child-like adults as about the dangerous descent down the ice-covered mountain. At times remarkable, at times heart-wrenching, Crazy for the Storm is a father, son read—a tale that proves the power of the human spirit can rise against any challenge. i reviewed it in Bookreporter as a arc reviewer, but I have mixed feelings to this book, being a mother it was a very sad read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Crazy For the Storm is a compelling memoir that reads just like a novel. The chapters alternate between his time on the mountain after the plane crash and his life leading up to that point. Norman Ollestad recounts his unusual upbringing and how he had to rely on his earlier experiences and lessons taught by his dad in order to survive on the mountain.

    I was astounded by the activities that Norman's father made him participate in at such a young age. He was surfing and downhill skiing at a very young age, and it wasn't just that he was participating in these activities, but that his father pushed him to try things that were challenging to the point of being dangerous. In the first few pages of the book there is a photo of Norman strapped to the back of his dad while his dad was surfing - he was only one year old.

    In one of my favorite sections, he recounts a road trip he took with his dad to Mexico. They have so many dangerous and exciting adventures on this trip that it made for great reading. (There were Federales with guns, a car chase and an idyllic time spent with some native Mexicans, just to give you a little preview.)

    At times it was hard to put this book down. I was always wondering what was going to happen next. What crazy adventure was Norman's dad going to take them on next? Or what about his mom's boyfriend? Was he going to stay nice or start drinking again? And then of course there's the breathtaking story of how Norman got down the mountain.

    I had read someone else's review of this book a while back and so I knew that there was a video on YouTube that showed footage from the news when Norman spoke to the media after he got off of the mountain. I made a point of not watching the video before I read the book because I didn't want to see any spoilers, but I can honestly say that I wish I would have watched it first because it really brings home just how young Norman was during the time period the book covers. I was shocked by how young and small he was because he had already had so many adventures and done so many crazy and dangerous things with his dad, and then survived the descent from the mountain. Because of his achievements and bravery on the mountain I had been picturing someone older in my head (even though his age was given in the book).

    There were a lot of descriptions of surfing and skiing in the book that used the technical terminology of each sport. I did not understand many of them, but it didn't take away from my overall enjoyment of the book.

    If you like reading memoirs about survival situations then I'm sure you will love Crazy For the Storm.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Crazy for The Storm is a very well written, detailed novel that will blow you away. This book takes place in the 1970’s, which is also an auto-biography of the Author Norman Ollestad. The book is based on the family of the Ollestads. Norman, who is the main character, is a strong willed, ignorant teen who adores outdoors. His dad is an avid explorer, and loves being out in nature. He is also an ex-FBI agent. In this book, Norman was flying to a hockey championship game when his plane crashed and he had to find his way out on his own. After that the book is based on the life after the crash. I believe this was a fantastic book and people who enjoy autobiographies would like this book. The author, which is Norman himself, did a great job writing about his time of fear.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Amazing story of survival and the bond between father and son. A little too much technical wording when describing the mountains and surfing.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This book was really interesting; I read it all in one sitting. At first the chapters switching between the plane crash and the author's childhood leading up to that point annoyed me because I wanted to know the survival story right away. I began to also get sucked into the background story though and in the end, I found the alternating format very instrumental to the overall memoir. It's an amazing thing that the author survived such an ordeal at the age of eleven but he at least had the knowledge of all the previous dangerous experiences that his father had pushed him into at an even earlier age.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    "Crazy for the Storm" is a remarkable story about a boy, his father, their relationship, and a truly miraculous journey of survival made by the boy. The author intermingles chapters that demonstrate what kind of physical and mental toughness young Norman achieves through experiences with his father with chapters that recount the crash and Norman's descent to safety. Slalom skiing in rugged conditions, surfing enormous and dangerous waves, taking a crazy journey through Mexico with a washing machine and being chased by Federales... Norman's father prepares him for life and unwittingly prepares him to save his own life after the boy lives through a plane crash thousands of feet up a mountain. This is a wonderful book and a thrilling story.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Men have it rough in our world, and boys have it even rougher. Norman Ollestad tells the story of the tough time he had growing up with a demanding father and a demanding stepfather. The trials he suffered as a boy served him well when he had to find a way to survive after a plane crash. I liked this book but I think men would find it even more captivating. It seems to be a rare book these days, a coming-of-age memoir of a boy.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Very good. Couldn't stop reading, professionally written in way that it becomes an easy page turner.It's very easy to relate to the themes of the book when you're a man, son and father.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    An incredible story of survival. I enjoyed the converging story lines that alternated chapters. The ending is particularly poignant as the author struggles to push his own son into that place where he will struggle but, if he can get through it, will fill empowered and confident. By relating his own story, Ollestad shows the reader how pushing beyond "effortless fun" pays off.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    There is a line near the beginning of “Crazy for the Storm” that I think is very telling about the whole book.“He had taught me to ride big waves, had pulled me from tree wells and fished me out of suffocating powder. Now it was my turn to save him.”The author, Norman Ollestad, says this about his father (also Norman Ollestad), after the plane crash that took his father’s life and stranded him on a mountain, alone. The reason I find it telling, is that as I read through the book, I found far more places where the son is saving the father, or at least living the life the father had wanted for himself. Norman’s father exposed him to so many dangerous situations (many that these days he’d probably get arrested for, per the author) but by doing so, also gave him the tools and the inner strength to survive.“We stared at each other. I saw him so clearly. The cranium shelf rising off his forehead bumpy and uneven, the cluster of diamonds in the blue of his eyes fragile cracked windows, and I saw someone younger and full of grand ambitions and I thought about how he had wanted to be a professional basketball player. He looked at me as if into a mirror, studying me, like I was holding something that he admired, even desired.”The author does a good job balancing the voice of his younger self, often angry at his father for making him live a different life, making him ski and surf and take risks that he didn’t want to…with the admiration he now feels for his father. Though Ollestad is making different choices now with his own son, Noah, the lessons taught to him as a child have taken deep root.His father’s voice is always in the background…not only in the decisions he makes regarding his own son, but all throughout the book.“All I care about is that you keep going, Boy Wonder. Don’t get stuck on how you finished last time or the turn you just made. Go after the next one with all you’ve got.”Moments like that were the strongest part of this book. Though I thought I’d be more drawn to the crash itself and the miracle that an 11-year old boy was the only survivor and managed to get down a mountain in the winter by himself…it was the father/son relationships that were more powerful. The crash details (and some of the descriptions of surfing and skiing) that got too technical for me since I am unfamiliar with those worlds.The writing was at times very choppy…short, staccato sentences that broke up the flow of other, very lyrical passages.Agree or disagree with a father making his son take incredible risks, living a different life than the son wanted to at the time, in the end the author lets go of the right or wrong of his life. He maintains his love for his father, appreciates the gifts that came from the way he was raised, and has a wealth of experience, good and bad, with which to guide his own son. In the end, he has the memory of his father and the reality of his son.“I guessed that at some point during his run, Noah had broken through the storm and locked into the bliss of his victory, the bliss of his connection to the ineffable – that sacred place unveiled to me, and now to my son, by the man with the sunshine in his eyes. There are few joys in life that can compare to that.”
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Compelling story and well written. Two plots of the author's life - one is the relationship with his father and growing up in Malibu and the other is him as the sole survivor in a small plane crash. Each chapter goes back and forth and soon you understand how they are related, as the strength and lessons his father taught him helped Ollestad to survive. It is a quick read and positive affirmation. Enjoyed it.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    2 Words that describe the book: Survival memoir3 Settings where it took place or characters you met:1. Setting: late 1970s California and Mexico2. Norman Ollestad Jr.—The author had a unique upbringing in the uninhibited and freedom-loving surf culture of the 1970s. (He lived on Topanga Beach.) At age 1, his father strapped him to his back and took him surfing (see photo at right). This was the start of a childhood filled with extreme sports. Norman was continually pushed by his father to surf, play hockey and ski at levels that were both frightening and somewhat dangerous. Yet this background gave Norman a unique mindframe and skills that ended up helping him to survive a plane crash that killed his father, his father's girlfriend and the plane's pilot. Norman was only 11 at the time of the crash.3. Norman Ollestad Sr.—A fearless man with a taste for adventure, Norman Ollestad was many things: a former FBI agent who wrote a book exposing the weaknesses of the agency, a successful lawyer, and a devoted father who wanted to make sure his son (who he affectionately called "Boy Wonder") experienced the exhilaration and beauty of living life fully by pursuing extreme sports like powder skiing and surfing.4 Things you liked and/or disliked about it:1 . I liked the trip to Mexico that father and son take shortly before the plane crash. In many ways, it acts as a "coming of age" journey for young Norman. This extended sequence is (in some ways) more the heart of the book than the actual plane crash.2. I disliked how Ollestad structured the book. The chapters alternate between his childhood and his struggle for survival on the mountain after the plane crash. This technique for telling the story didn't work for me. I felt like I kept losing the "momentum" of the survival aspect of the story. The book might have worked better if it had been told in chronological order.3. I disliked that I never got a real grip on the survival story. I'm not sure if it was Ollestad's writing or my unfamiliarity with some of the terms he used, but I never felt that sense of "I'm right there" you get with some survival stories (such as Jon Krakauer's excellent Into Thin Air.)4. I liked the ending where Ollestad writes about his grown-up assessment of his father and his own struggle to find the right amount to push his own son. In many ways, Norman might not have survived if his father hadn't raised him the way he did. But in other ways, it seems almost negligent or cruel the pressure his father put on him and the situations he was forced to experience. 5 Stars or less for your rating?I'm giving the book 3 stars. I really wanted to like it more than I did. I'm a big fan of real-life survival stories, but this one just didn't do it for me. I think much of it was due to the writing. Although he has a gripping story to tell, I think Ollestad might have benefited from having a co-writer that could have helped him tell his story better. Surprisingly enough, the most interesting part of the book for me was the father-son relationship and the unique way Ollestad was raised.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A well-paced father/son memoir, it contains engaging characters that defy the cliched categories of hero/villain that I find in childhood memoirs -- I'm no fan of annoyingly precocious kids waxing philosophical, but Ollestad is a very restrained writer with only a moment or two where I felt like the characters had some memoir-affectation that disrupted the "reality" of the story. Not that you have to believe every detail in any memoir, this one or others -- but usually I find memoirs to have a lot of those shifts from dead-on accurate storytelling that rings true (e.g. age-appropriate and believable like "Freaks and Geeks") to fanciful, ornate, and fairy-tale-false (e.g. 90210/Gossip Girl), and I prefer the former. Ollestad's book does a remarkable job of allowing us to believe, anyway, that his memoir is not discolored (too much) by the intervening years or the desire to manipulate what is supposed to be non-fiction.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    When he was 11 years old, Norman Ollestad had become a true California jock-- he was a fantastic surfer, he'd shredded his skin skateboarding, had just won a state skiing championship, and was gearing up for a hockey team tournament. In between the ski championship and hockey practice, his father chartered a plane to get them from one place to the next-- but the plane crashed in the clouds of a California mountain. The pilot and Ollestad's father were killed, his dad's girlfriend survived just a short time longer. The memoir tells the story of not only the crash but the childhood pressures and adventures he faced, all of which led up to the crash. Ollested's father was driven to make his son the best, and adults (Ollestad is now nearing his mid-40s now) and teens alike will likely be surprised at the things the elder Ollested forced upon his son. The story is well written, alternating between flashbacks of his younger childhood and surviving the crash, and will appeal to anyone with interest in outdoor survival stories. The high school at which I am currently a librarian has Into the Wild in the curriculum, and this is certainly a book I'll recommend for anyone who liked that story. It certainly has appeal to high school and middle school students, although some more conservative individuals might balk at some of the drug references.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Growing Up With Divorced ParentsThe teaser of Ollestad's new memoir "Crazy For the Storm" is sure to pull you in, a story about surviving a plane crash in the snowy California mountains. I won't spoil the plot, but the survival story is really not that remarkable. But deep down, the book is fundamentally about growing up with divorced parents and a physical and psychological abusive stepfather. The death of his father in the plane crash was the traumatic event that serves as the frame narrative, with flashbacks to his childhood and the relationships with his father, father's girlfriend, mother, and stepfather.I honestly didn't feel that there was anything exceptional or unusual with Ollestad's upbringing. That is not to say that his story is boring, far from it. His story is the story of millions of children all over North America, dealing with the social consequences of split families, of domestic abuse, but also of unconditional love. Overall, I recommend this book because it is extremely relatable. Most of it is predictable, yet Ollestad's appeal to the human condition keeps you engaged throughout.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In February 1979, a small chartered plane, carrying an eleven year old boy (the author), his father, the father's girlfriend and the pilot, crashed into a mountain in northern California. Only the boy and the badly injured girlfriend were alive. Young Norman decides to head down the face of the mountain,all 8,600 feet,to look for help and to avoid freezing to death on the treacherous, blizzard-choked mountain. This is a quite amazing story. The back story of the history and relationship of the boy and his father is equally as fascinating. Highly recommended!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Norman Ollestad's Crazy for the Storm is a memoir of the horrific plane crash he survived and the upbringing that taught him the skills that made it possible for him to survive. The chapters alternate between his ordeal on the mountain and his relationship with a demanding, driven, and loving father. To me, the most remarkable thing about this story is how young Norman was when all of this happened. He was just 11 when he had to make his way away from the plane crash, down a mountain in a blizzard while also taking responsibility for the life of his father's girlfriend. Unfortunately the perspective of an 11 year old doesn't really come through and its easy to forget he is so young. It's very likely that Norman matured very early due to his harsh upbringing and at 11 he was more sophisticated then most kids his age. Still, the author writes with a little more detachment then I would like.I listened to this book on audio and it is narrated by the author himself. As with many authors this is a mistake. He is not an actor and his voice has little inflection or emotional for such a thrilling story. The plot will hold your interest but ultimately the book's flatness is disappointing.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    adult nonfiction/memoir. Fast-paced, action-packed story of an 11-year-old miraculously surviving a plane crash, interspersed with memories of his father, who wasn't so lucky.

Book preview

Crazy for the Storm - Norman Ollestad

Crazy for the Storm

A Memoir of Survival

Norman Ollestad

My father craved the weightless glide. He chased hurricanes and blizzards to touch the bliss of riding mighty waves and deep powder snow. An insatiable spirit, he was crazy for the storm. And it saved my life. This book is for my father and for my son.

On my dad’s back, Topanga Beach, 1968

I am harnessed in a canvas papoose strapped to my dad’s back. It’s my first birthday. I peer over his shoulder as we glide the sea. Sun glare and blue ripple together. The surfboard rail engraves the arcing wave and spits of sunflecked ocean tumble over his toes. I can fly.

Contents

Epigraph

Map

Chapter 1

FEBRUARY 19, 1979. At seven that morning my dad, his…

Chapter 2

THE SUMMER BEFORE the crash my grandmother’s washing machine broke.

Chapter 3

NEAR THE TOP of Ontario Peak I woke up. Feathers…

Chapter 4

WHEN CHARLEY AND I loaded into the VW bus it…

Chapter 5

MY BODY QUIVERED like a freight train and woke me.

Chapter 6

NICK CAME HOME after dark and my mom served my…

Chapter 7

SANDRA STOPPED CRYING. Her hand remained over her face. She…

Chapter 8

I HEARD MY DAD’S feet banging the loose wood boards…

Chapter 9

I ASCENDED FROM the baby tree, trying to veer out…

Chapter 10

MY MOM’S VW Squareback climbed the Topanga Beach access road.

Chapter 11

I ROSE FROM my dad’s cold limp body. Everything appeared…

Chapter 12

DAD WAS HOLDING both our surfboards when I woke up,…

Chapter 13

SANDRA REFUSED TO MOVE and the airplane’s floor rug was…

Chapter 14

DAD’S CURLY HAIR had dried in a big puff. I…

Chapter 15

SANDRA WAS CURLED up into a ball near the wing…

Chapter 16

IN THE VILLAGE Dad and I drank water and coconut…

Chapter 17

FROM AN ELEVATED position above the crash site I could…

Chapter 18

MY DAD AND I took the ferry directly from Puerto…

Chapter 19

THE TERRAIN BELOW the big tree seemed like the easiest…

Chapter 20

BEFORE I KNEW it I had started the sixth grade.

Chapter 21

SANDRA’S BODY SPILLED into the funnel. The only way to…

Chapter 22

OUR LITTLE WHITE Porsche passed the Mammoth turnoff and kept…

Chapter 23

SANDRA’S WEIGHT PUSHED down on my shoulders as I cleated…

Chapter 24

ON FRIDAY WE DROVE to Big Al’s house. He was…

Chapter 25

I’M BREATHING HARD. I must be alive. You’re lucky you…

Photographic Insert

Chapter 26

WE LEFT TOPANGA Sunday morning at 5:00 a.m., headed for…

Chapter 27

I TURNED AWAY FROM Sandra’s body, shielded by twigs, and…

Chapter 28

MY DAD HUSTLED ME to the Snow Summit lodge and…

Chapter 29

THE GIANT SHALE moated by snow proved more grueling than…

Chapter 30

MY DAD WAS in the bleachers at the beginning of…

Chapter 31

I WAS PHYSICALLY AND mentally parched, stuck in a hole,…

Chapter 32

DAD WOKE ME at 5:30 in the morning. Sandra was…

Chapter 33

I WAS TRAPPED, WORN OUT and frozen. Night moved down…

Chapter 34

A GUARD LET US through the draw gate into Santa…

Chapter 35

WHEN I CAME to the edge of the meadow the…

Chapter 36

PILOT ROB LED us across the tarmac toward one of…

Chapter 37

THE WIND HAD tricked me before, so I ignored the…

Chapter 38

I WAS LYING ON my back looking into a lamp.

Chapter 39

THE NEXT MORNING Nick’s face was swollen and his eyes…

Epilogue

TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS LATER, I was driving to Mammoth with my…

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

Map

CHAPTER 1

FEBRUARY 19, 1979. At seven that morning my dad, his girlfriend Sandra and I took off from Santa Monica Airport headed for the mountains of Big Bear. I had won the Southern California Slalom Skiing Championship the day before and that afternoon we drove back to Santa Monica for my hockey game. To avoid another round-trip in the car my dad had chartered a plane back to Big Bear so that I could collect my trophy and train with the ski team. My dad was forty-three. Sandra was thirty. I was eleven.

The Cessna 172 lifted and banked over Venice Beach then climbed over a cluster of buildings in Westwood and headed east. I sat in the front, headphones and all, next to pilot Rob Arnold. Rob fingered the knobs along the instrument panel that curved toward the cockpit’s ceiling. Intermittently, he rolled a large vertical dial next to his knee, the trim wheel, and the plane rocked like a seesaw before leveling off. Out the windshield, way in the distance, a dome of gray clouds covered the San Bernardino Mountains, the tops alone poking through. It was flat desert all around the cluster of peaks, and the peaks stood out of the desert as high as 10,000 feet.

I was feeling especially daring because I had just won the slalom championship and I thought about the big chutes carved into those peaks—concave slides, dropping from the top of the peaks down the faces of the mountains like deep wrinkles. I wondered if they were skiable.

Behind Rob sat my dad. He read the sports section and whistled a Willie Nelson tune that I’d heard him play on his guitar many times. I craned around to see behind my seat. Sandra was brushing out her silky dark brown hair. She’s dressed kind of fancy, I thought.

How long, Dad? I said.

He peered over the top of the newspaper.

About thirty minutes, Boy Wonder, he said. We might get a look at your championship run as we come around Mount Baldy.

Then he stuffed an apple in his mouth and folded the newspaper into a rectangle. He would fold the Racing Form the same way, watermelon dripping off his chin on one of those late August days down at the Del Mar track where the surf meets the turf. We’d leave Malibu early in the morning and drive sixty miles south to ride a few peelers off the point at Swami’s, named for the ashram crowning the headland. If there was a long lull in the waves Dad would fold his legs up on his board and sit lotus, pretending to meditate, embarrassing me in front of the other surfers. Around noon we’d head to Solana Beach, which was across the Coast Highway from the track. We’d hide our boards under the small wood bridge because they wouldn’t fit inside Dad’s ’56 Porsche, then we’d cross the highway and railroad tracks to watch the horses get saddled. When they came into the walking ring Dad would throw me on his shoulders and hand up a fistful of peanuts for lunch. Pick a horse, Boy Wonder, he’d say. Without hesitation he’d bet my horse to win. Once a long shot named Scooby Doo won by a nose and Dad gave me a hundred-dollar bill to spend however I wanted.

The mountaintops appeared higher than the plane. I stretched my neck to see over the plane’s dashboard, clasping the oversized headphones. As we approached the foothills I heard Burbank Control pass our plane onto Pomona Control. Pilot Rob told Pomona that he preferred not to go above 7,500 feet because of low freezing levels. Then a private plane radioed in, warning against flying into the Big Bear area without the proper instruments.

Did you copy that? said the control tower.

Roger, said pilot Rob.

The nose of the plane pierced the first tier of the once distant storm. A gray mist enveloped us. The cabin felt compressed with noise and we jiggled and lurched. Rob put both hands on the steering wheel, shaped like a giant W. There was no way we were going to get to see my championship run through these clouds, I thought. Not even the slopes of Baldy where my dad and I had snagged a couple great powder days last year.

Then the gravity of the other pilot’s warning interrupted my daydream.

I looked back at my dad. He gobbled down the apple core, smacking his lips with satisfaction. His sparkling blue eyes and hearty smile calmed my anxiety about the warning. His face beamed with pride for me. Winning that championship was evidence that all our hard work had finally paid off, that anything is possible, like Dad always said.

Over his shoulder a crooked limb flashed by the window. A tree? Way up here? No way. Then the world turned back to gray. It was just a trick of light.

Dad studied me. His gaze seemed to suspend us as if we didn’t need the plane—two winged men cruising a blue sky. I was about to ask how much longer it would be.

A bristle of pine needles streaked past the window behind him. A shock of green, clawing open the mist. It was snowing now. Then a spiky limb lunged at the window. An evil ugly thing that Dad was unaware of. It sucked all life from the cabin, scorching the scene like a photograph eaten by fire. Suddenly my dad’s face was blotched and deformed.

Time seemed to decelerate as if lassoed by a giant rubber band. Fog pressed against all the windows and there was no up or down, no depth at all, as if the plane were standing still, a toy hanging from a string. The pilot reached down with one hand and spun the knee-high trim wheel. I wanted him to spin the dial faster—we’ll climb faster, away from the trees. But he abandoned the trim wheel and steered the giant W with both hands, jerking us side to side. What about that dial? Should I spin it for him? A branch out the window caught my eye.

Watch out! I yelled, curling my four-foot-nine, seventy-five-pound body up tight.

The wing clipped a tree, sending a thud into my spine, and the plane twisted ass-backwards. We bounced like a pinball off two more trees—metal ripping, the engine revving. I was fixated on the trim wheel. Too late to spin it now….

We slammed into Ontario Peak, 8,693 feet high. The plane broke apart, flinging chunks of debris across the rugged north face and hurling our bodies into an icy chute.

We were sprawled amongst the wreckage. Our bodies teetered on the 45-degree pitch threatening to plunge us into an unknown freefall. Exposed to freezing snow and wind, we dangled 250 feet from the top—the distance between life and death.

CHAPTER 2

THE SUMMER BEFORE the crash my grandmother’s washing machine broke. Grandma and Grandpa Ollestad had retired to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and the inflated prices for appliances in Guadalajara or Mexico City would have strained their budget. Also, renting a truck and picking up a new machine themselves was a major ordeal in those days. So my dad decided he would go to Sears, buy a new washer and haul it down to Vallarta himself. He would borrow Cousin Denis’s black Ford pickup, cross the border in San Diego and cruise the Baja Peninsula highway all the way to La Paz. He’d take the ferry across the Sea of Cortez to Mazatlán, which was mainland Mexico, then head farther south through the deep jungles, hitting as many of the rumored surf spots as he could before reaching Vallarta.

Hearing this news made me stiffen with fear. I went silent when my mom explained it all to me on our way home from summer school, where she taught second grade and I was preparing for sixth. She didn’t say anything about me having to go but it was in the air—looming—more threatening than if it were a certainty. The idea of baking inside that pickup truck for three or four days and hunting for surf—and worse, finding it and having to paddle out in big waves and float alone out there with just my dad in the vast sea—was not appealing at all. He would be focused on the surf and I would be left to fend for myself. I envisioned my body crushing under the lip of a wave, tossing around, clawing upward, gagging for air.

Mom’s car turned onto the Pacific Coast Highway and I heard the ocean shushing. I was staring at my blue Vans, listening to the Beatles on the eight-track, and I felt carsick and had to look out the window.

We arrived at my mom’s house on Topanga Beach, the southernmost cove in Malibu. The homes were built right on the sand, slapdashed together and teetering at all angles as if shelter were an afterthought, second to the essential need of being on the beach. My dad used to live there also. When I was three he moved across the highway into a cabin on the edge of Topanga Canyon. By the time I was ten I had gathered various tidbits of information, forming a sketchy portrait of what broke up my parents.

Mom complained that sometimes the phone would ring in the middle of the night and Dad would leave without a word and return with no explanation. Mom knew it had to do with Grandpa Ollestad or Uncle Joe, my dad’s half brother, who always needed Dad to save their ass, but Dad wouldn’t talk about it. When Mom protested her exclusion from certain family secrets, my dad just shrugged it off. He would go surfing or simply walk away if my mom persisted. The final straw had been when my dad secretly loaned Uncle Joe money from Mom and Dad’s joint savings account and then refused to tell my mom why. Right after this incident a French guy named Jacques came to visit. He was a friend of a friend of Dad’s. My dad had just gone through major knee surgery and could barely move around, so he loaned Jacques a surfboard and called out instructions from the porch, using his crutch to guide Jacques to the takeoff spot. Dad didn’t have the strength to show Jacques around Malibu, so Mom took him to Point Dume—a chain of pristine coves—and to Alice’s restaurant on the pier, and to the Getty Museum. After Jacques went back to France Dad stopped coming home at night. This lasted a couple of weeks. Then he returned for a few days, until he finally moved his stuff into the cabin across the highway.

Mom started hanging out with a guy named Nick. Right from the get-go Nick liked to mix it up, which was the opposite of my dad, who was reluctant to fight with my mom. Nick and Mom had spectacular clashes in front of everyone on the beach. It wasn’t that abnormal really—a lot of people on Topanga Beach who were married were kissing other people, fighting with their new boyfriends or girlfriends, and suddenly moving into other houses. It was an incomplete picture of what went wrong between Mom and Dad. Something was obviously broken, that’s all I knew, and was forced to accept it.

Mom parked the car in the garage and I immediately found my three-legged golden retriever Sunshine. She was waiting on the outdoor walkway that ran along the side of our house. Sunny and I ran to the porch, jumped over our beach stairs and ambled up the beach to the point—a curve of sand that came to a tip at the north end of the cove.

Two girls my age cantered their horses bareback through the waves washing along the shore. I held Sunny so she wouldn’t spook the horses. The girls lived up the canyon in the Rodeo Grounds, below where my dad lived, and as always we just waved to each other. The horses kicked up salt water onto the girls’ legs, which shimmered in the late afternoon light.

When they disappeared up the mouth of the canyon I threw Sunny’s stick into the surf. A blond dude with a long beard dressed in full Indian garb did a rain dance toward the setting sun. He reminded me of Charles Manson, who was always hanging around the beach when I was a baby, and used to serenade my aunt while she rocked me in her arms on our beach stairs.

Good thing I never went up to that commune he kept talking about, my aunt said when she told me the story.

After dinner I tried to fall asleep to the crashing waves. I read the Hardy Boys to help take my mind off the trip to Mexico. Later I woke and made a tent with my covers and played a spy game, radioing secret information to headquarters via the rusted posts of my old brass bed. Sunshine lay curled at the foot of the bed and guarded our hideout. I petted her and told her about how I hated having to surf, hating not being able to play all weekend like the kids in the Pacific Palisades.

I often complained to my dad about not living in a neighborhood. He told me that one day I’d realize how lucky I was living right on the beach, and that since Eleanor (my unofficial godmother) lived in the Palisades and I got to stay there sometimes, I was doubly lucky.

But she doesn’t have a pool, I said, and Dad rebutted that I had the biggest pool in the world right in my own front yard.

Before I was born my mom used to work at Eleanor’s nursery school, Hill’n Dale, and my parents became close friends with Eleanor and her husband Lee. I started going to Hill’n Dale when I was three and Eleanor immediately lavished me with attention. We have the same birthday, May 30, she liked to tell everyone. Ever since the first grade I had walked the two blocks from grammar school to Hill’n Dale, hanging out there until my mom or dad picked me up after work. All those years of seeing Eleanor practically every day made me think of her as my other mother, and I told people so.

Morning brought good news—my dad had to prepare a malpractice case with his law partner Al before leaving for Mexico so I wouldn’t have to surf this weekend, and Sandra would be joining my dad on the trip to Mexico. The odds of not having to go were now heavily in my favor. I was so dizzy with relief that I didn’t realize what Nick had in store for me until it was too late. Nick had been living with my mom for several years by now and he talked about mouthpieces and jabs and said that Charley, the only boy my age still living on the beach, was coming over. I was preoccupied, basking in a heaven devoid of Mexico and teeming with sleepovers and birthday parties and frosted cakes.

The sand was hot and white. It was August and the fog was long gone and the sun beat down. Nick and his friend Mickey drank beer and drew a circle in the sand.

That’s the boxing ring, said Nick. Don’t step outside the ring or you’ll be automatically disqualified.

Everybody said Nick looked like Paul Newman. He was taller than my dad and didn’t have broad shoulders—I had decided it was because he didn’t surf. He was different from my dad in a lot of other ways too. He would never dance at parties like my dad always did. And Nick didn’t play any instruments like my dad, or sing—stuff Dad learned to do when he was a child actor. Dad was in the classic Cheaper by the Dozen, acting in several films and TV shows through his early twenties. On a show called Sky King Dad played a mechanic, which was funny because he couldn’t fix anything, not even my bike. And I couldn’t imagine Nick running a summer cheerleading camp like my dad did. That’s how Dad met my mom—he was recruiting song girls to teach at his camp and my mom was staying with one of the song girls in an apartment in Westwood by UCLA. It was 1962. Dad had just resigned from the FBI and was working as an assistant U.S. attorney under Robert Kennedy. He and his friend Bob Barrow, who grew up near Dad in South Los Angeles, cooked up the idea of organizing a summer cheerleading camp as a way to make some extra money and meet college girls. Dad would teach the girls dance routines in the mornings before suiting up and going into the Department of Justice.

On their first date Dad took my mom to Topanga Beach. He played guitar for her and convinced her to paddle out surfing with him. They got married a year later, moving into a house on the beach.

Mickey helped Charley and me string up our boxing gloves. Mine had been acquired in a trade for my Raggedy Ann doll with a boy who was moving from the beach. This went down following a particularly tyrannical evening with Nick after which I had announced my desire to learn how to box. Then a few days later, as if to show that he was unfazed by my sudden urge to box—an obvious gesture meant to protest Nick’s drunken rages—Nick put together this little bout between Charley and me.

It’ll be good for you, Norman, he said.

While Mickey secured the knots Charley and I craned our necks to peek around the flat-topped dirt knoll on the point.

Stop leering at the naked ladies and put your mouthpieces in, said Nick.

Enjoying the preview?
Page 1 of 1