After my best friend’s devastating jumping accident, I realize the importance of sticking together.

Anne and Wyatt

I grew up in the era of the land line, when cell phones were giant bags that worked only when hooked to cigarette lighters. During my teens, I’d rush home from school, throw on my boots, saddle up a horse and take off. I’d be gone for hours, covering miles and miles of Missouri farm and forest land, jumping creeks, sprinting up and down hills, careening around corners at top speed.

Almost never did I tell a family member where I was going or when I’d be back. And I certainly wasn’t carrying any sort of device that could help me contact someone if need arose.

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