My Yosemite story is more a story of regret. My best friend and I were hiking the Mist Trail to Nevada Fall in September 2019 on our second trip to Yosemite (the first trip was in 2017, and we did not complete the Mist Trail hike on that trip). On this sunny day in 2019, a woman was passing us, as we stopped for a break. We exchanged pleasantries. I noticed she had two photos, each in separate circle frames on her backpack. One was of a young man in a military uniform. She said he was her son “and out somewhere in the world with the military.” The other photo was of a much younger child whom she also identified as her son “who is no longer here.” I told her I was sorry. She said she was planning to get to the Half Dome summit the following day after camping at Little Yosemite Valley that evening. Soon, she was on her way after we wished her well. I have thought about that woman many times and wished I had just stopped for a moment and asked if she would like to talk more about her children and her life. This haunting regret still lives with me, and I hope she reached her goal on that trip, and she is happy out there in the world, and her military son is somewhere safe. Everyone has a story, and we need to pause sometimes to give them a chance to share their story with us. I thank the spirit of Yosemite for teaching me that lesson.
Bobby French, donor