Like three William Least Heat-Moons, Jill and Lauren and I were sticking to Colorado's blue highways.
We drove southwest on US 258 just north of Bailey, heading toward a rendezvous with Michelle's ashes in the San Juan Range. Now, though, it was time for some lunch.
“Scoob,” I said, “Punch up Yelp and find us some grub."
After a minute, she said, "Crow Hill Cafe. About 10 miles ahead."
We found the turn-off that took us past High Country Trucking, the Platte Canyon Fire Station, and into a row of storefronts leaned against a hillside. Our
options appeared to be a pizza joint, a liquor store, the Bailey Depot Feed and Supply Company, and an abandoned gas station. Nothing that looked like a cafe.
Anna reflected that Michelle would have been age 46 yesterday, if not that Michelle will always be 21.
Summer 1990
She was a 20-year-old Indiana University nursing student in 1990, recently diagnosed with leukemia, and a patient on 5 East Oncology at St. Vincent. After scoring a remission, Michelle had relapsed, and wasn’t too happy about it. The one thing that seemed to cheer her up was the idea of another remission and getting strong enough to make her first skydive.
