{"id":2513,"date":"2024-02-06T12:16:21","date_gmt":"2024-02-06T12:16:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/"},"modified":"2024-10-18T16:31:22","modified_gmt":"2024-10-18T16:31:22","slug":"john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/","title":{"rendered":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery"},"content":{"rendered":" \n
\n
\n \n

The best storytellers are driven by an insatiable need to know. Give them a mystery and they will dedicate themselves to trying to solve it.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

That relentless inquisitiveness propelled John Branch<\/a> of The New York Times on a three-year odyssey to find out what happened to two American mountain climbers who perished 50 years ago on an Argentine mountaintop. \u201cIt tickled my reporter\u2019s curiosity,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Branch said his curiosity and persistence were amplified by a sense of journalistic responsibility \u201cto bring humanity to stories.\u201d What \u2014 or who \u2014 caused the deaths of Janet Johnson, a Denver teacher, and NASA engineer John Cooper in their 1973 climb of the Aconcagua, the highest peak in the Western Hemisphere, was never determined. Their frozen bodies lay on the glacier that tops the mountain for years before they were recovered. Six other climbers in their team returned safely.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Johnson and Cooper \u201cwere real people,\u201d Branch told me in an email interview, \u201cand their deaths certainly left generational craters in families. But they had been relegated to characters in some far-away mystery. I wanted to humanize them again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

These two principles inspired \u201cGhosts on the Glacier,\u201d<\/strong><\/a> a multimedia story The Times published online on Dec. 9, 2023, followed by a special print section Dec. 24.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n \n
\"New
John Branch<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div> \n
\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

The package inevitably brings to mind \u201cSnow Fall: The Avalanche at Tunnel Creek.\u201d<\/a> Published in 2012,  the ground-breaking multimedia story by Branch and Times visual journalists about a tragedy in Washington\u2019s Cascade Mountains won the Pulitzer for feature writing and a Peabody Award for interactive storytelling.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Like \u201cSnow Fall,\u201d Branch\u2019s new story describes a mountaintop disaster with dramatic scenes that bring to life a vivid cast of characters in a battle with nature. His new story, however, is told from a distance of five decades compared with a tragedy that had occurred just months before.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

For \u201cSnow Fall,\u201d<\/a> Branch sat down with survivors, their voices defining the parameter of the story.  \u201cThere was no second-guessing and speculation from outsiders,\u201d he said. \u201cIt was written chronologically, almost, beginning with the night before and ending with the bodies being dragged off the mountain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

By contrast, \u201cGhosts on the Glacier\u201d  is \u201call about speculation, about the confounding swirl of facts, memory and imagination.\u201d It is about the gaps in knowledge, he said, and our desire to fill them. The passage of time itself becomes a major character.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

The central character, however, is a 50-year-old Nikomat 35-millimeter camera, its unexposed film inside. The discovery, by porters prepping  for a 2020 expedition on the Aconcagua, drove Branch\u2019s reporting and forged the story\u2019s structure. \u201cI lean toward chronology,\u201d Branch said, \u201cbut wanted to open with the \u2018why\u2019 for telling this story: the discovery of a camera. Whose camera, and where? That gets us to here, where we now tell what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

One thing readers don\u2019t learn and must decide for themselves \u2014 Branch won\u2019t say, despite my repeated inquiries \u2014 is  exactly what happened to Johnson and Cooper. Did they succumb to the perils of climbing at nearly 23,000 feet without oxygen, as the Americans who climbed with them maintained? Or, as Argentinian climbers and a doctor who attended their autopsies insist, was it foul play?<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

While \u201cGhosts on the Glacier\u201d unspools like a mystery \u2014 Branch isn\u2019t a fan of nut grafs \u2014 it was built on three years of meticulous reporting. That was aided by Jack Begg, part of the New York Times news research department that made it possible to track down relatives of the eight climbers on the team, all of whom are now dead. The Times team also found mountain guides, climbers, journalists and authorities in Argentina who tried to determined what happened to Johnson and Cooper.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Branch\u2019s story is partnered with photos, videos and graphics from Times visual journalists as well as haunting photos mined from Janet Johnson\u2019s long-lost  camera.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

As for the text, Branch draws inspiration from Polish-British novelist Joseph Conrad, who famously said, \u201cMy task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel \u2014 it is, above all, to make you see.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

\u201cMy goal,\u201d Branch said, \u201cis to help readers visualize.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

A Times sports reporter since 2005,  Branch has made a career out of producing narratives \u2014 \u201ca mix of nature and people, research and sleuthing\u201d he calls them \u2014 a process  that he finds irresistible.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

He was a Pulitzer finalist in 2012 for his series of stories<\/a> about Derek Boogaard, a professional hockey player who overdosed on painkillers. He is the author of three books, including \u201cSidecountry,\u201d<\/a> a collection of his New York Times stories. When The Times disbanded its traditional sports department in 2023, turning sports stories over to The Athletic, Branch was named a domestic correspondent<\/a> for the paper. His editor on \u201cGhosts of the Glacier\u201d was Mike Wilson<\/a>, who was acting sports editor at The Times and now is deputy editor of narrative features under the umbrella Great Reads.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Branch talked to Storyboard about keeping faith with a years-long project, what a story promises and delivers, and his favorite line from the story. The e-conversation has been edited for length and clarity, and is followed by an annotation of \u201cGhosts on the Glacier.\u201d<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

What drew you to journalism as a career?
<\/strong>Now that I\u2019m in my 50s, I like to think that it was because I saw it as a noble profession where truth is tantamount. We need more of those. And what an honor to be in a position to tell other people\u2019s stories.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

But that is somewhat revisionist. In my late 20s, it was because I was a manager at Costco, happy at work but wondering where I would be when I was, say, in my 50s. I thought being a journalist would be fun, to get permission to go places and talk to people I might not otherwise know. And I was right.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

You are known for writing about sports or adventure far removed from celebrity athletes or the big professional sports. Or, as the subtitle of your story collection reads: The subtitle of your collection of Times\u2019 stories is \u2018Tales of Death and Life from the Back Roads of Sports.\u201d What draws you to stories like these?
<\/strong>I like stories about outdoor adventures, because they take readers to unfamiliar or hard-to-reach places \u2014 and that\u2019s a big part of our role as journalists, to be a tour guide for armchair travelers and to make the setting a character in the story. But I also find myself writing a lot of stories about people who are gone, whom I never met. I find that a worthy challenge, to bring people to life in a way that\u2019s authentic and accurate.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

What special challenges did reporting a 50-year-old story pose?
<\/strong>Most of the main sources are dead. And few of the archives (newspaper, judicial, forensic), especially in Argentina, are digitized. In a lot of ways, reporting this story felt like reporting decades ago, relying on phone calls, knocks on doors and opening lots of dusty boxes.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

How did you prepare to report and write for the story?
<\/strong>I initially toyed with reporting this in the order that the story might ultimately be told \u2014 doing all the research, all the interviews, and then developing the film for a big reveal (or not). Selfishly, it would be fun to be that invested in the film.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

But wait. What if the film was entirely blank? Would I still pursue the story? Would the Times let me? And even if the film could be salvaged, what might the images reasonably tell us? Would Johnson\u2019s last frame show her being attacked by a yeti or something? Probably not. The film wasn\u2019t likely to answer the big question of what happened. It was more likely to illuminate, not reveal. Ultimately, we decided to get the film developed first. Let\u2019s see what we have. It might inform the reporting.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

My first step was to find Janet Johnson\u2019s family. I wanted permission to take possession of the camera and film and have it developed. It turns out that she had only one surviving immediate family member \u2014 a sister, a widow in her 80s, living alone in Oregon without access to a computer or a cell phone.  She never really knew what had happened to her only sibling. She gave me the go-ahead to develop the film and learn all we could.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

What role did your editor\/s play during the process?<\/strong>
Let me highlight two. Mike Wilson<\/a> was my lead blocker, to use a football metaphor; he cleared a path, allowing me the room for reporting trips and research dives. For two years he listened to the scattered thoughts pouring from my over-stimulated brain and pulled me out of the weeds when necessary. And after I wrote the first draft, Mike shaped it with his gentle carving tools and sander. (Sorry, I just flipped from football to carpentry.) Then he morphed into a coach and manager. He coordinated a tight team of all-stars across several departments. He kept an eye toward editors on high who would have to give their eventual blessing. Whatever difficulties all that caused him, I never learned.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Photo editor Becky Lebowitz Hanger<\/a> has been behind the scenes for a lot of my favorite story projects, and she was instantly attracted to this one. Her dedication to doing it, and doing it right, never dimmed. She helpfully reminded us along the way that Janet\u2019s photos were the reason for telling this story.<\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

ANNOTATION: Storyboard\u2019s questions are in red; Branch\u2019s answers in blue. <\/em><\/p>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n

\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n \n
\"Tourists
Tourists in 2016 at Aconcagua in Argentina, the highest mountain the Western Hemisphere. AP Photo \/ Eseban Felix<\/small><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n<\/div> \n
\n
\n \n\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n \n
\n
\n \n

Ghosts on the Glacier<\/h2>\n\nStory by John Branch<\/strong>
\nVideos by Emily Rhyne<\/strong>
\n
\nDecember 9, 2023<\/b>
\n
\n\nHIGH ON ACONCAGUA<\/strong>, the Western Hemisphere\u2019s highest mountain, the shrinking Polish Glacier spits out what it once devoured \u2014 in this case, a 50-year-old Nikomat 35-millimeter camera. <\/a>I\u2019m going to ask you about the entire lead, but have to stop here to ask some questions about some of your writing decisions from the very start? How did you come to use the verb \u201cspits?\u201d<\/span>I don\u2019t overthink these things, but I am allergic to boring verbs. I imagine that I came up with \u201cdevoured\u201d first, and then wondered about its opposite. Coughs? Regurgitates? Spills? Releases? Reveals? Nah. Your question prompted me to go look at my first draft. It was \u201cspits,\u201d and it never changed.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nTwo porters, preparing for an upcoming expedition, had been securing ropes in the thin and arid air of a clear February day. It was midsummer in South America. The camera glistened in the sun, daring to be noticed. <\/a>You anthropomorphize the camera, treating it as if it had human characteristics. Why?<\/span>The camera was a main character for the story; we would not be writing the story without it. And it\u2019s a bit of a stand-in until we meet the person behind it.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe lens was shattered. A dial on top showed that 24 photographs had been taken.
\n
\nThe bottom half of the camera was saddled into a worn leather holster with a thick strap. On the holster, in blue embossing tape, was an American name and a Colorado address. <\/a>Why didn\u2019t you say what the name and address was?<\/span>I held off on revealing the name, which would mean nothing to readers, until it was revealed to the old guide, who is gobsmacked by it. As for the address, her home did not become a character in the story, so it didn\u2019t feel vital to reveal it. Also, I\u2019m trying to write this lede economically, and I liked the simplicity of that phrase: \u201cAn American name and a Colorado address.\u201d<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIn the snow-and-ice seasonal cycles of the mountains, abandoned and lost equipment is discovered each summer \u2014 tattered tents, dropped ice axes, lost mittens. Occasionally, a body. <\/a>This sounds like the beginning of a nut graf, but it isn\u2019t, is it? You once told me, \u201cI\u2019ve joked that not only is \u2018Snow Fall\u2019 one of the longest single pieces to ever run in The New York Times, it\u2019s probably the longest piece to run without a nut graf. It doesn\u2019t have one.\u201d Is that the case here, too, and if so, what\u2019s your opinion on nut grafs in narratives?<\/span>Ha! This is now the second-longest piece I\u2019ve written without a nut graf. My first draft of this story had what I called a \u201cnut section.” It was written partly to wrap my head around the main parameters, but also as a summary for other Times journalists invited to help us tell this story.\u00a0 In subsequent drafts, I stripped most of it away.<\/span><\/span><\/a>I don\u2019t like most nut grafs. Too many feel desperate and overwrought; they might as well be scripted in neon. I often find them insulting to curious readers. Imagine sitting by a campfire, telling a ghost story. And after the first minute, just as you have the audience rapt, you stop and say, \u201cHere is a general summary of what I\u2019m going to tell you. This story will be about this and that. Now let\u2019s continue.\u201d I get it; I don\u2019t want to lose readers, either, who want a notion of where a story is headed. But I\u2019d prefer to let the headline, my writing and our presentation do that. I trust readers to follow.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThis was not just another camera, though the porters did not know that yet. One of them carried it down to camp. There, a veteran guide named Ulises Corvalan was cooking lunch.
\n
\nCorvalan glanced up. He casually asked about the name on the bottom of the camera.
\n
\n\u201cJanet Johnson,\u201d came the reply.
\n
\nCorvalan gasped and swore. \u201cJanet Johnson!?\u201d he shouted. How did you reconstruct this scene? A: I interviewed Ulises a couple of times, and people who were there, like the porter who found the camera.
\n
\nExcitement boiled instantly. Do you know about Janet Johnson, the schoolteacher? About John Cooper, the NASA engineer? About the deadly 1973 American expedition?
\n
\nHave you heard the legend?
\n
\n\u00a0<\/em>It had been handed down for decades, veering toward myth, whispered like a ghost story. <\/a>The voice shifts here to second-person? Why?<\/span>In pragmatic terms, I was invoking Ulises\u2019 voice. I don\u2019t know exactly what he said after he exclaimed, \u201cJanet Johnson!?\u201d but he explained why this was a thrilling find. In more literary terms, I think it pulls the reader in, and signals that \u201cyou\u201d are going to be part of this story.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nHere is what was certain: A woman from Denver, maybe the most accomplished climber in the group, had last been seen alive on the glacier. A man from Texas, part of the recent Apollo missions to the moon, lay frozen nearby.
\n
\nThere were contradictory statements from survivors and a hasty departure. There was a judge who demanded an investigation into possible foul play. There were three years of summit-scratching searches to find and retrieve the bodies.<\/a>This is a very concise summary of the aftermath. Did it require much revision?<\/span>This is the boiled-down version of the nut section. If we must have one, let’s be snappy and evocative, not perfunctory.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nTheir discovery stirred more intrigue, leaving more questions than answers. That\u2019s the imbalance of all the best mysteries \u2014 facts that don\u2019t quite add up, gaps that imaginations rush to fill. I love this line. A: In my mind, this is the undercurrent of the story. I was thinking about what makes mysteries mysterious. It\u2019s the presence of enough facts to have structure but not enough to have answers. That’s where I want this story to reside.
\n
\nThat is how Janet Johnson and John Cooper became part of the folklore of Aconcagua.
\n
\nAnd now, nearly five decades later, an old camera had emerged from the receding glacier. It was wound, prepared to take the next picture. <\/a>This strikes me as the end of the lead, which ends with a cliffhanger? What was your goal with this opening?<\/span>I wanted the discovery of the camera to open the story, to signal that this is today, not yesteryear. And the camera is the reason for telling the story.\u00a0 I\u2019m not above sprinkling tiny cliffhangers throughout a piece, almost like a scene in a TV series before it cuts to commercial. This teases out the possibility to the reader: We are wound up and ready to go.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nMore clues emerged from the ice. Here was a decomposed left arm, still wearing a delicate silver Rado watch with a broken blue face. How were did you know this? A: We have close-up photos of the arm and the watch, which were then collected by police and given to the medical examiner. There was a tattered pack and scattered belongings: down mittens, a red jacket, a single crampon, a canister of used Kodak film.
\n
\nLike that, by the whims of climate change and chance, a long-lost legend was given air and light. <\/a>You sometimes alternate between reportage and poetry.<\/span>During reporting, phrases will pop into my head and I’ll jot them down, thinking they might be useful. I liked the notion of “air and light,” bridging the literal and figurative.<\/span><\/span>\n

THE TEAM<\/h3>\nACONCAGUA IS THE<\/strong> broad-shouldered behemoth of the Andes, shaped more like a fist than a finger. <\/a>Why this analogy?<\/span>I wanted readers to know that this was not an idyllic mountain of the mind’s eye, not the Matterhorn or something from a beer ad. It’s bulky and brown. One earlier version said something like, “It’s not the type of mountain you’d have as a screensaver.” I loved that sentiment, didn’t love the line.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIt is brown and rocky, scrubby and dusty, dry and wind-whipped. With few trees or wildflowers, it can feel like a vertical desert.
\n
\nThe first person known to reach the 22,838-foot summit was Matthias Zurbriggen of Switzerland, in 1897. In 1934, a Polish expedition successfully tackled a more perilous route on the northeastern side of Aconcagua, up a massive glacier that stretches nearly 2,000 vertical feet toward the summit.
\n
\nThe ice sheet was named for that group: El Glaciar de los Polacos.
\n
\nThese days, Aconcagua is part of a vast state park with helpful rangers and a helicopter rescue service. Two base camps provide hot meals, showers and internet. Some consider Aconcagua among the easiest to climb of the Seven Summits, the prestigious name given the highest mountains on each continent.
\n
\nBut Aconcagua is not easy. Trouble lurks in the thin air. <\/a>Was this intended as foreshadow that heightens tension?<\/span>It wasn’t really intended to heighten anything, but a statement: This mountain is a beast, then and now.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThrough 2022, there were 153 known deaths on the mountain. In 1973, Johnson and Cooper were Nos. 26 and 27.
\n
\nFifty years ago, Aconcagua had only the most rudimentary of services. Climbers had no GPS trackers, no way to communicate between base camp and the summit. The Americans carried binoculars and a flare gun.
\n
\nThe mountain was virtually deserted. If trouble came, there was nobody to help but the other members of the expedition.
\n
\nMost of them were part of the Mazamas<\/a> climbing club, founded in Oregon in 1894. Their leader was a Portland lawyer named Carmie Dafoe.
\n
\nDafoe, 52, pushed for the Aconcagua trip, noting that a Mazamas member had climbed it in the 1940s. His group, Dafoe announced, would attempt to be the fifth expedition to top Aconcagua via the Polish Route.
\n
\n\u201cDifficulties are said to be moderate \u2014 a couple of places where we\u2019ll want handlines \u2014 not any more difficult than the normal route on Mt. McKinley,\u201d Dafoe wrote in a 1972 memo. <\/a>How did you obtain the memo?<\/span>I got in touch with every family of the American climbers. Several dug through materials they hadn’t looked at in years: slides, diaries and memos like this.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe guide would be Miguel Alfonso, a 38-year-old Argentine who had been to the summit five times, once up the Polish Route. Dafoe asked for a $50 deposit from anyone interested, along with a list of successful ascents and references.
\n
\nIn June 1972, Dafoe announced the members of the party, all American men, whom he briefly described. Jim Petroske, a psychiatrist from Portland, Ore., would be \u201cdeputy leader,\u201d he said. Bill Eubank, a physician from Kansas City, Mo., was \u201chighly recommended by Petroske\u201d and would be the expedition doctor. Then came Arnold McMillen, a dairy farmer from Otis, Ore., and Bill Zeller, a police officer in Salem, Ore. (\u201cBill and I shared a blizzard in the Canadian Rockies in \u201969, a solid citizen.\u201d) John Shelton, 25, was a Brigham Young geology student fluent in Spanish from a two-year church mission. (\u201cBeen through Latin American customs about 25 times \u2014 which must take more energy than climbing Aconcagua.\u201d <\/a>Why isn\u2019t there any indication where this quote came from?<\/span>All these parenthetical quotes are from Dafoe’s memo in June 1972. And John Cooper, a NASA engineer from Houston, was \u201chighly recommended.\u201d<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThey were weekend climbers, mostly. Dafoe organized hikes in the Northwest designed as training and get-to-know-you exercises.
\n
\n\u201cI have had some trepidation about the party because of a fear that we might have someone who has unknown problems or who is some kind of a fink,\u201d Dafoe wrote in a memo to the group. <\/a>How did you obtain Dafoe\u2019s memo?<\/span>This was one of several memos he sent to expedition members. Families had kept materials for more than 50 years, unearthed at my request.<\/span><\/span> \u201cIt turned out, however, that I either know everyone in the group, or they are people I have been able to find out about. This leaves me with no reservation or qualification about the party.\u201d
\n
\nIn November, Dafoe sent reminders about packing lists, passports, vaccinations.
\n
\n\u201cEveryone is probably already rounding into top physical condition,\u201d he added. \u201cDon\u2019t take any chances on this. Work hard at it; especially with lots of jogging.\u201d
\n
\nHe also announced the final member of the eight-person American crew: a woman from Denver named Janet Johnson. <\/a>How long, from the initial idea to publication, did it take to produce the story?<\/span>The short, misleading answer is nearly four years. But Covid and other priorities delayed the true start of the reporting for more than two of those years. We got the film developed in April 2022 and published in December 2023, but \u201c20 months\u201d is misleading, too, since none of us involved were devoted full-time to the story. I wrote a draft in the spring of 2023, and we dabbled with the multimedia and subsequent drafts off and on through the summer and fall.<\/span><\/span><\/a>Did you ever lose faith in whether you would finish the story?<\/span>No, I knew it would be finished, I just wasn\u2019t sure about the form. Early on, we had multi-departmental brainstorms about the best way to tell this story.\u00a0 Is it a New Yorker-style text narrative? A documentary? Something between? We let the reporting dictate the form, as usual. One issue with writing a multimedia story rooted in 1973, and then having it delayed by Covid, is coordinating a sense of urgency within the newsroom, especially at a time of so much monumental news in the world (Covid, elections, wars). Ultimately, I just wrote it, partly to get it out of my head and partly to spur decision-makers into action.<\/span><\/span>


\nSHE WAS BORN<\/strong> on Nov. 30, 1936, and never knew her birth mother. She was adopted by Victor and Mae Johnson, who lived in a stone-and-timber Tudor on the south side of Minneapolis. He helped run his family\u2019s paper-supply company; she was a bookkeeper.
\n
\nThe Johnsons believed in manners, rules and God. Janet, with a tidy bedroom upstairs, was a quiet girl and a voracious reader. She needed glasses early. She played organ at St. John\u2019s Lutheran Church. <\/a>How did you settle on this three-sentence portrait of Janet?<\/span>Describing people is always fraught. (I loathe to think how someone would describe me. Actually, a student did not long ago, writing that I look like a dad in a garage band. I wish.) Stick to facts, not adjectives. What’s an apt shorthand to give the reader a mental picture?<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nWhen she was 10, she wanted a baby sister, so the Johnsons adopted a 5-year-old girl named Judie. The new sisters met at the neighborhood park. Janet took Judie home and gave her a doll named Lois. <\/a>You don\u2019t attribute any of this biographical information? How did you report and verify it?<\/span>This comes from Judie, the sister. As with any source that provides details, you have to ascertain their reliability. In this case, I can verify that they’re five years apart. I’ve seen early pictures of them together, I went to the park near the childhood house, and Judie has the doll.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nJanet never married or had children. Judie Abrahamson, now an 83-year-old widow in Oregon City, Ore., is the only close relative alive. <\/a>How did you locate her?<\/span>At the beginning of this, the amazing NYT research department helped with a public-records search on all the American families. In this case, Jack Begg dived into Janet Johnson. “Not easy to find survivors,” he wrote to me, “but I believe this is her sister.” It was.\u00a0 She had no social-media footprint, no email, but Judie answered one of the phone numbers I had for her.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cShe liked to study \u2014 that was her favorite thing to do,\u201d Abrahamson said. \u201cStraight A\u2019s? She would settle for nothing less.\u201d
\n
\nIt was when her sister was away at college that Abrahamson discovered notes hidden in a jewelry box \u2014 love notes between her sister and another young woman. Soon, Johnson\u2019s parents sent her to a hospital in St. Paul to \u201ccure\u201d her of her homosexuality. She was about 21. Did Abrahamson tell her parents about the letters? A: It’s unclear if her discovery came before Janet’s parents learned. As with anything, if I don’t feel comfortable in my knowledge of it, I don’t write it.
\n
\n\u201cIt didn\u2019t heal her,\u201d Abrahamson said.
\n
\n\u201cBut that was a big rift between Janet and my mother.\u201d <\/a>How would you describe your interviewing style?<\/span>It depends on the story and the situation. In this case, Judie and I spent a lot of time talking on the phone, over many months, until I visited her with a video crew for 2-3 days. My goals were simple and vague: To get to know Janet, and to understand what Judie knew about her sister\u2019s death and how it impacted the family. I mostly just prompted her to keep talking, knowing that memories were deep and likely unsaid for many years.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIt chased Johnson away from home. Who drew this conclusion? A: That was Judie. Janet had attended two colleges closer to home, came out of the hospital and went to Colorado to continue her education
\n
\nShe settled in Denver, renting part of a two-story home on York Street, near the botanic gardens where she volunteered. She got her teaching certificate, then a master\u2019s degree, eventually a Ph.D. in education at the University of Colorado. She taught in elementary schools and then became a school librarian, figuring it would be easier to keep her nights and weekends free for the mountains.
\n
\nJohnson joined the Colorado Mountain Club. By 30, she became the 82nd known person \u2014 and among the first 20 women \u2014 to reach the summit of each of Colorado\u2019s \u201cfourteeners,\u201d the more than 50 peaks higher than 14,000 feet in elevation. <\/a>Why do you say \u201cknown person\u201d rather than use more specific attribution?<\/span>I like this question because (like others above it) it gets to the confluence of attribution and pace. Stories can be gummed up with attributions, making them ponderous and pretentious. If I think it’s not germane HOW I got the information, I’ll leave it out. If an editor had demanded that I add “according to so-and-so, a historian of the Colorado Mountain Club,” I might have decided that it’s too clunky and ditched the whole line.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nHer name was regularly in the club\u2019s magazine, Trail and Timberline, detailing various excursions. Photos she took graced the magazine\u2019s cover.
\n
\n\u201cThe companionship on the outing was tremendous \u2014 that is, except for the wood ticks, which somehow managed to find their way into my abode on the top of the hill,\u201d she wrote in a 1961 report about a weekend trip in the Rockies. \u201cStrangely enough, few other people even found one tick. Why they picked on me, I don\u2019t know. They say everyone was put here for a purpose, so maybe I was meant to sustain the ticks.\u201d <\/a>Of all the times Johnson appeared in the magazine, why did you choose this excerpt?<\/span>This piece was a rare time she wrote about herself in first person. It showed a side of her personality that was otherwise hard to capture.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nMore and more, Johnson headed overseas. She was one of 38 members of a 1963 club expedition in Peru. On the way home, she detoured to climb Iztacc\u00edhuatl, which rises more than 17,000 feet near Mexico City.
\n
\nIt is unclear how many of the world\u2019s summits she reached. She climbed Kilimanjaro and hoped to climb Denali after returning from Aconcagua.
\n
\nMost summers, Johnson tied a kayak atop her Nash Rambler and headed to the Northwest. How do you know that\u2019s what she drove? A: Her sister remembers it, has black-and-white photos, and later went to Denver to sell it when Janet died. She thought it was green, but I couldn’t be certain, so it remains colorless.
\n
\nShe would stay with her sister, hike Mount Hood and paddle in Puget Sound. Abrahamson\u2019s children knew her as Aunt Janet, the free spirit.
\n
\nIn 1971, the graduation announcements for her Ph.D., sent out by her mother, included a formal portrait of Johnson, smiling with her cat-eye glasses on.
\n
\nShe wanted to reach the highest levels of education. She wanted to reach the top of the tallest mountains. <\/a>It seems like you learned enough about Janet Johnson to write a complete profile of her. What challenges did you face selecting what to present and how to write it?<\/span>It’s always an imprecise trick. It’s a matter of being fair and accurate in a portrayal while also keeping a reader engaged. I try to think: If someone had a few grafs to describe my life, what would (or should) they say? And how much space, in the context of the broader story, is right for the reader?<\/span><\/span><\/a>I wrote about Janet before I knew what Emily Rhyne would do in a video focused on Janet. I thought all of this might get replaced. In the end, we felt like the combination of words and video blended well.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cI think it was just to prove to my mother that she can do these things, even as a gay person,\u201d Abrahamson said.
\n
\nIf Johnson had a significant other, Abrahamson never knew of her. Boxes of slides that she left behind show mostly landscapes, not people.
\n
\nShe took the 1972-73 school year off. That fall, after a hiking trip in Europe, she proudly joined the upcoming Mazamas expedition to Aconcagua.
\n
\n\u201cClimbed all 67 of the 14,000-foot peaks in the United States (except Alaska), Kilimanjaro, Orizaba, Popocat\u00e9petl, Iztacc\u00edhuatl, Fuji, Mt. Blanc, Matterhorn, Eiger, Peru, etc., etc.,\u201d Dafoe wrote of Johnson. \u201cRecommended by two of my climbing friends from Denver.\u201d
\n
\nShe packed her belongings into an aluminum-frame backpack \u2014 boots, flannel shirts, a red down jacket, thick mittens, glacier glasses, a sleeping bag. She used a marker to write her name or initials on most of them. She wore a silver watch and a ring with a brown stone that she got on a trip to New Mexico. <\/a>How do you know these details?<\/span>We have all of the gear now (after the discovery of the camera, more of her belongings were found on the glacier) and can compare it to photos of the expedition and descriptions made in diaries by others.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nAnd she brought the Nikomat, the consumer version of Nikon\u2019s professional cameras of the era. She probably bought the camera during her trip to Japan a couple of years earlier. <\/a>Why do you make this surmise?<\/span>She had climbed in Japan and spent time in Tokyo. And that Nikon model was only available in Japan. (In the U.S., it was called Nikkormat. I think I’ve heard from every reader who had one, telling me I got the name of Janet’s camera wrong.)<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nShe used a label maker to punch her name and address onto blue embossing tape, and stuck it to the bottom of the leather camera case, just in case she lost it.
\n
\nShe carried the camera with her to Aconcagua, taking photographs along the way, almost to the top. <\/a>Why did you break off the narrative here?<\/span>I wanted that chapter to be focused on Janet, along with her place in the expedition. Now we know the main character and have, hopefully, propelled the story forward. Let’s get to the mountain.<\/span><\/span>\n

THE CLIMB<\/h3>\n\nAMERICAN NEWSPAPERS SENT<\/strong> them off, and Argentine newspapers greeted them at the Nutibara Hotel in Mendoza\u2019s city center.
\n
\nRafael Moran, a reporter for Los Andes, a daily newspaper in Mendoza, interviewed the mountaineers near the pool. He did not cover every Aconcagua expedition, but this one was especially intriguing: Americans. The Polish Glacier. A woman. A NASA scientist.
\n
\nMoran quickly had a dark inkling about this group. The Americans seemed disconnected from one another and unprepared for the serious task of climbing Aconcagua. How do you know what Moran was thinking? A: We talked about it in a pair of lengthy interviews.
\n
\nMoran whispered to the photographer: Take each of their photos today. I don\u2019t think they\u2019re all coming back. <\/a>What was your reaction when you learned this?<\/span>I think we all know the nagging feeling of intuition. And we have the photos taken that day. They’re mug shots, essentially. I still wonder if the Americans found it weird to be photographed that way.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe next day\u2019s newspaper previewed the planned ascent. It showed the Americans huddled around a photo of Aconcagua. The caption noted the NASA engineer at the center.
\n
\nJust a month before, in December 1972, John Cooper was at mission control in Houston for the 17th and final Apollo mission, wearing a black mustache and a headset, communicating with astronauts on the moon. Cooper was a surface operations engineer, helping guide the lunar module.
\n
\nCooper also wore his new mountain-climbing boots to work, to break them in for what he anticipated would be a difficult expedition on Aconcagua. <\/a>How did you learn all this about him?<\/span>I did a deep dive into Cooper, mostly through family. A niece of Cooper’s collects NASA historical documents, like directories and memos, that provided timelines and job titles.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nCooper grew up in El Dorado, Kan., with a love of the outdoors. He went to Oklahoma University to get a degree in geological engineering, but the flat oil fields where his father worked were not for him. He spent college summers working for the Forest Service and then as a smokejumper in the American West.
\n
\nLater, in the U.S. Coast Guard, he became a pilot and won awards for rescues off the coast of Florida and in the Caribbean. He learned to deep-sea dive.
\n
\nAnd he climbed. <\/a>Why this three word-sentence?<\/span>Its form tells you that it’s a transition of sorts. The words say, “we’re done with the background, let’s get back to climbing.”<\/span><\/span> Cooper summited Kilimanjaro and Mount Kenya, the tallest mountains in Africa, and Popocat\u00e9petl, the volcanic behemoth in Mexico.
\n
\nIn 1966, Cooper joined NASA just as the Apollo program got underway. He had a bit of swashbuckler in him, more like an astronaut than a desk engineer. He sometimes wore a beard. He smoked a pipe. Around NASA\u2019s Houston campus, Cooper drove an old military Jeep, sometimes taking his nieces for a ride.
\n
\n\u201cMy mother would say, \u2018John, you put the doors back on and put up that windshield before you take my girls with you,\u2019\u201d Deb Koons, Cooper\u2019s niece, said.
\n
\nIt was at NASA that Cooper fell in love with a secretary, a young divorced woman named Sandy Myers. They were married in 1968. In 1969, they had a baby boy they called Randy.
\n
\nThat was the year of Apollo 11. Cooper was in the surface operations group that guided Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin as they became the first humans to walk on the moon.
\n
\nThree years later, on Dec. 19, 1972, Apollo 17\u2019s three-man crew splashed down safely in the South Pacific.
\n
\nOn. Jan. 12, 1973, Cooper\u2019s flight from Houston landed in Miami, where he met Janet Johnson. They flew together to Argentina. <\/a>The depth and breadth of the reporting and research is so impressive. How long did that part of the process take?<\/span>In fits and starts, it began shortly after the camera film was discovered in 2020 and continued until we published in 2023. Because it’s an unsolved mystery, it caused plenty of sleepless nights and endless hours chasing details and theories. Remember Jake Gyllenhaal’s character in \u201cZodiac?\u201d<\/a><\/span><\/span> <\/a>What is your writing process?<\/span>For a long time, as a sports reporter often on tight deadline, I didn’t really have one. Find a lede, write quickly and file \u2014 sometimes before reading back through what I’ve written. Now, with a story like this, I’ll open a Google Doc or take a notepad and hammer out a top-of-mind outline \u2014 the loose layout of stepping stones winding toward the end of a path. Once I start to write, I need three things to get momentum: a lede, a loose nut graf (if only to keep me focused), and then the lines after the nut graf that pick up the story again. The rest I often make up as a go, thinking two or three moves ahead. At some point, unexpectedly, the kicker usually hits me. The bigger the material, the more I try to write first drafts without my notes in front of me, letting my mind filter what’s important.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nCooper kept a diary of his expedition. Like other men in the group who wrote in their own diaries about Johnson \u2014 \u201cNothing feminine about her,\u201d one said \u2014 Cooper was unsure what to make of the only woman.
\n
\n\u201cJanet sure is weird,\u201d he wrote from the comfort of Hotel Nutibara. \u201cShe went swimming in her bra, blouse and panties today and the pool was full of people!\u201d <\/a>How do you know what Cooper and the other men wrote in their diaries?<\/span>Several families dug out old mementos, including photos and diaries.<\/span><\/span><\/a>Why did you only quote Cooper\u2019s observation?<\/span>He was a main character. The other quote here, unattributed, came from a member who barely gets mentioned, and I was hesitant to bog down readers with names and asides.<\/span><\/span>


\nON THE MOUNTAIN<\/strong>, the Americans struggled from the start. <\/a>From the very start, tension infuses this story: What\u2019s on the camera, what happened on the climb, what happened to Janet Johnson and John Cooper. Were they murdered by someone? Tell me what your goal is here?<\/span>The pacing and order were definitely deliberate, but I wasn’t trying to sensationalize anything. That’s not my style, and this story is sensational enough. And once we get on the mountain, it’s all facts and first-person accounts, chronologically.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nOn Jan. 20, 1973, aided by mules, the group hiked 25 miles to Casa de Piedra, a stone house at the confluence of the Vacas and Relinchos Rivers. How do you know the precise date and progress they made? A: Diaries, news accounts and Carmie Dafoe’s expedition report.
\n
\nIn his diary, Cooper described the \u201cstark beauty\u201d of a landscape \u201cbaked hard as concrete.\u201d He mentioned that Eubank, the expedition doctor, was already sick.
\n
\nThe next day, the group reached base camp, a treeless, rubbled plot in a wide valley at about 13,500 feet. These days, during climbing season, it is a buzzing village. In 1973, the American expedition members were the only ones there.
\n
\nAlfonso had hired Roberto Bustos, a 25-year-old climber and student, to manage the base camp. Now a retired geography professor in Buenos Aires, Bustos recalled his early impression of the group \u2014 a lot of high-quality gear, but an unsettling dynamic. <\/a>Did you have to employ interpreters during your reporting in Argentina?<\/span>Yes. Nicol\u00e1s Garcia, a journalist in Mendoza, was our translator and fixer.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cThere was no group attitude,\u201d Bustos said. \u201cI was thinking, Oh, I am on my own. Everyone has to take care of himself. In my opinion, they weren\u2019t ready for such a strange and big mountain as Aconcagua.\u201d
\n
\nAlfonso, despite his experience on Aconcagua, was relegated to merely a guide, someone to point the way.You collected so much information. <\/a>What’s your process for selecting the essential information?<\/span>I often say that the hardest part of writing is not what to include, but what to leave out. I’m not a great self-editor or revisionist. Maybe from my deadline-writing days, I trust first drafts and tend to want to leave things in. More and more, I edit a story by imagining a sentence or graf or section deleted. Does it still work? Is it better? But as in a recipe, not all story parts are equal. Is it a key ingredient or a flavor enhancer? A lot of arguments with editors involve keeping in a flavor enhancer that I really like. The stew always needs a little color.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nDafoe was in charge. Petroske, his friend from Portland, was the deputy leader, followed by Eubank, the doctor, and Shelton, the interpreter for Alfonso. Then came Zeller, McMillen, Cooper and Johnson, without defined roles.
\n
\nHolding a map of Aconcagua. Dafoe called it \u201cone of the most barren places in the universe.\u201d
\n
\nBack then, like today, getting to the summit usually required a week or more of shuttling up and down the mountain, moving gear and adjusting to the altitude. The group carried loads to Camp 1 \u2014 at 15,500 feet, higher than anywhere in the continental United States. They returned at day\u2019s end to base camp.
\n
\nThe high-altitude ups and downs were made more difficult by Aconcagua\u2019s notorious obstacle course of penitentes \u2014 icy pillars, as tall as six feet, caused by solar radiation. They\u2019re sturdy enough that even the small ones can\u2019t be knocked over. The group called them \u201cwhite monsters.\u201d <\/a>How do you know what they called them?<\/span>From Dafoe’s expedition report.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe trek to Camp 2, at nearly 18,000 feet, took seven hours.
\n
\n\u201cBrother was it bad,\u201d Cooper wrote in his diary. \u201cBetween the ice and scree and altitude, I was done in.\u201d
\n
\nHe later wrote about others in the group.
\n
\n\u201cBill Zeller is the real man behind the work,\u201d he said of the Oregon State Police officer, an expert in fingerprinting. \u201cHe lugged 80 pounds up to Camp 1. Then after getting back he made the water haul \u2014 and I\u2019m here in the sack. I guess all do our share of work but some more than others.\u201d
\n
\nJohnson was little help, Cooper wrote. \u201cShe is a real loner and appears to be for only one thing \u2014 to get herself to the summit, at the expense of everyone or on everyone\u2019s back.\u201d <\/a>Why did you include this diary excerpt?<\/span>Her desperate “summit fever” was an idea floated by survivors, and it comes off as a bit of victim shaming. But this was testimony, in real time, that Johnson was eager to get to the summit. And it shows that Johnson’s situation was nuanced \u2014 a victim, perhaps, but one whose motivation was already questioned, at least privately.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe expedition was fracturing from the effects of altitude. Three Americans, including Dafoe, the leader, stayed at Camp 1. Five others, including Johnson and Cooper, moved up to Camp 2 with Alfonso. Cooper felt miserable.
\n
\n\u201cFor 2 cents I\u2019ll go back,\u201d Cooper wrote.
\n
\nBut they plodded upward to establish Camp 3, behind an outcropping of boulders at the base of the Polish Glacier, at about 19,400 feet.
\n
\nA storm swept through, pinning the group in place for a welcome day of rest. Behind it were clear skies, a perfect window for a climb to the summit.
\n
\nThe group was \u201cexpecting it to take at least all day,\u201d Zeller later wrote in his account of events, \u201cbut the lower part of the glacier seemed to present no problem as it seemed to be in good condition \u2014 no crevasses \u2014 not too steep \u2014 good snow for crampons etc.\u201d
\n
\nBut after a late breakfast, Petroske suddenly lost his coordination and struggled to put on his crampons. Others diagnosed it as a sign of high-altitude cerebral edema, a potentially deadly swelling of the brain.
\n
\nAlfonso escorted Petroske back to base camp. Now the American team was cleaved in half. <\/a>Intriguing verb in this context: cleaved.<\/span>“Cut” doesn’t quite cut it, does it? Cleave felt heavier, leaving a thicker separation.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nGone were the expedition leader, the deputy, the doctor, the interpreter and the local guide. Remaining were Cooper, Johnson, Zeller and McMillen. None had been this high, anywhere. They barely knew one another.
\n
\nWhen they looked up, they saw the Polish Glacier, stretching to the sky.
\n
\nIt was sunny. Their jackets were unzipped. They wore crampons and carried ice axes and light packs, leaving most of their possessions behind at camp.
\n
\nBut movement up the glacier was slow. By nightfall, the four Americans gave up on reaching the summit that day. They were at roughly 21,000 feet.
\n
\nThey dug a small snow cave on the glacier with their ice axes. They had no sleeping bags, so the climbers lay on reflective space blankets. During the night, cramped and uncomfortable, Johnson and Zeller moved outside. They sat, shivering. <\/a>How did you get enough detail to reconstruct this part of the climb?<\/span>It came from separate reports from McMillen and Zeller, to reporters and in private written testimonials they each provided to others in the expedition.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nWind blew a fine powder off the summit, filling the opening of the cave with snow and burying Cooper\u2019s legs. Johnson unburied him about an hour before sunrise.
\n
\nBut Cooper was finished. Cold and tired, he announced that he was turning back, Zeller and McMillen later said. It was about two hours down the glacier back to Camp 3, McMillen figured. He and Zeller expressed little concern about letting Cooper go alone.
\n
\n\u201cHe appeared to be very capable, alert,\u201d Zeller later told his local newspaper. <\/a>How did you find this story?<\/span>A big part of research was through archival newspaper accounts. In the U.S., that was largely (not entirely) through newspapers.com<\/a>. The Argentine accounts were not digitized. Nicol\u00e1s and I spent days in the old Mendoza library and Los Andes archives searching hard copies.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cHe had no trouble with his reasoning. There was no concern about his climbing ability, and we were not too far above high camp.\u201d
\n
\nJohn Cooper never made it. He died on the glacier.
\n
\nNot long after, so did Janet Johnson. <\/a>How much writing and revision did this section take?<\/span>I mostly whittled down the expedition’s movements below the Polish Glacier, but a lot of this part of the story shape-shifted as I moved the breaks around. The original draft had about 15 sections, mostly to provide a lot of pieces that might be shuffled as we considered multimedia.\u00a0 In this section, with Mike Wilson’s help, I streamlined it and decided to separate what we knew and could verify (the section above) to what was later said (the next section called “Rumors”) about all the speculation.<\/span><\/span><\/a>How long was your first draft?<\/span>The original draft was 19,000 words, about twice the final. It was a kitchen-sink draft, intended partly to show colleagues the breadth of the material and the angles or themes we could play with in multimedia. With Mike Wilson’s great help, it was carved under 15,000 words, then 13,000, then shaped to under 10,000, where we both felt comfortable.<\/span><\/span>\n

THE RUMORS<\/h3>\n
\nEXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED<\/strong> is speculation, spun around the globe for 50 years. <\/a>Another intriguing verb choice with \u201cspun.\u201d<\/span>I’m a defender of occasional alliteration (it gets a bad rap), and I like “spun” and “globe” together. In my brain, it evokes an old-fashioned newsreel report.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nTwo men from Oregon \u2014 Zeller, a police officer, and McMillen, a dairy farmer \u2014 were the last to see Cooper and Johnson alive.
\n
\nThey gave detailed versions of events. Slight contradictions and the confounding effect of high-altitude hallucinations raised questions for Argentine authorities and teased the public\u2019s imagination.
\n
\nAfter Cooper headed downhill alone, Zeller, McMillen and Johnson continued up. They moved slowly. They took photographs. They reached the top of the Polish Glacier, where it meets a ridge that leads to the summit.
\n
\nBut darkness descended again, and snow on the ridge was waist deep. The men took turns breaking the trail, 25 steps at a time. The summit in sight, the men later said, they turned to find that Johnson was not there.
\n
\n\u201cWe looked and looked and called her name and got no answer,\u201d McMillen recalled in a written account, two weeks later. \u201cFinally I stumbled across her ax and figured she couldn\u2019t be too far. We called some more and finally a faint little voice said, \u2018My name\u2019s Janet Johnson.\u2019 She was about 100 feet off our trail in the snow, laying there. When we got to her she said, \u2018Don\u2019t make me suffer, just let me lay here and die.\u2019\u201d
\n
\nZeller said that he roped himself to Johnson; McMillen said that Zeller \u201ctook her by the arm.\u201d Zeller said that the three got lost and camped another night together; McMillen said that he went ahead of the other two and spent the night by himself.
\n
\nTheir stories converged again the next morning. Johnson wouldn\u2019t stand, and her hands were \u201cswollen and black,\u201d McMillen wrote, so they \u201canchored her from three different directions so we could hold her standing up\u201d and led her past a crevasse.
\n
\nThey reached the snow cave where they had last seen Cooper. Some of their equipment was there, including the flare gun. McMillen said he shot it. It was 7 a.m.
\n
\n\u201cIt made a noise as loud as a rifle but I guess no one heard it below,\u201d McMillen wrote.
\n
\nJohnson\u2019s condition seemed improved, so the men decided that McMillen should go down alone to get help, following the route that Cooper presumably took 24 hours earlier.
\n
\nMcMillen said he lost his ice ax in a steep section of the glacier and slid 1,000 feet, head first. It would account for the black eye he had later, he said.
\n
\nThen he saw members of the Argentine army coming to rescue Zeller and Johnson. He heard people calling his name. He saw dead mules. And he saw a dead soldier lying in the snow.
\n
\nOnly later, after reaching camp and sleeping, did it occur to him: None of that was real. The dead soldier, he learned, was John Cooper.
\n
\nUp on the glacier, Zeller, too, was having hallucinations, not uncommon in the thin air of high altitudes. He later recalled visions of construction trucks working near the summit, and hearing phantom voices of rescuers who were never there. <\/a>Do the hallucinations inject doubt into their accounts?<\/span>I think so. I wondered about how explicit to be: \u201cDear reader, does this make you wonder about all of this?\u201d I mostly stayed back, letting that possibility drift over the reader. Do some readers notice the fog that’s building? Do some not? I think it’s a big part of the story. On one hand, they were hallucinating. On the other, they quote Janet directly. Interesting, right?<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cJanet and I continued coming down till we were through the worst part then we took a long spill also,\u201d Zeller wrote in an account later that spring. <\/a>How did you obtain this account? Do you know why he didn’t write it until later that spring?<\/span>McMillen and Zeller each provided a multi-page account of what happened, given to other expedition members (but not the Johnson or Cooper families, as far as I can tell). McMillen’s was longer (narrated to his wife) and done shortly after they returned. Zeller’s was in April and shorter. It was likely at the behest of Carmie Dafoe, the expedition leader who was writing a report (and happened to be a lawyer).<\/span><\/span> \u201cAgain doing no serious damage but breaking both of our dark glasses & cutting our faces some. We ended up 3 or 4 city blocks from camp & could see the tents.\u201d
\n
\nHe and Johnson came untethered in the fall, Zeller said, so he went back up to check on her. That is when he saw Cooper.
\n
\n\u201cI saw John\u2019s body about halfway between us & off to the right as we faced up hill,\u201d Zeller wrote. \u201cI checked him & he was dead & appeared to be frozen \u2014 I didn\u2019t see any cuts on his exposed skin & no tears in the clothing so assume that he didn\u2019t die as a result of a fall but exhaustion & hypothermia etc.\u201d
\n
\n\u201cJanet seemed to be OK best as I could tell so we decided that I would go ahead & set up the tent & she would follow as soon as she got her wind,\u201d Zeller said.
\n
\nHe arrived at Camp 3 a couple of hours after McMillen, the men later said. They slept through the night, awoke and saw no sign of Johnson.
\n
\n\u201cThe next a.m. Bill and I decided to go on down,\u201d McMillen wrote. \u201cBill was so confused he didn\u2019t know which direction to go.\u201d
\n
\nHe concluded: \u201cThat\u2019s the story as near as I can recall.\u201d <\/a>There\u2019s little sense of camaraderie here, the kind that would produce a \u201cwe\u2019re all in this together, we\u2019ve got each other\u2019s back\u201d mindset. Was implying that one of your aims in this section?<\/span>There is, though it’s unclear how much communication the men had in the aftermath, including in writing their reports. I like the admitted uncertainty and the folksy nature of that line: “…as near as I can recall.” It’s like a question mark at the end of everything you just read.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nQuestions followed them downhill, like a dry, cold wind. <\/a>What was the process behind the composition\u00a0 of this ominous simile?<\/span>A version of it was in the first draft: “Questions, like a dry, cold wind, followed them.” I don’t know how or why certain phrases pop out of my fingers. I think about what it was like for them. They’re coming down the mountain, alone, and no one in the world knows anything is wrong until they show up without two other people. Word spreads, speculation swirls, as they re-enter the real world.<\/span><\/span>


\nJOHN SHELTON<\/strong>, the college student who served as interpreter on the climb, turned 76 this year. <\/a>Why did you shift the focus of the narrative here to Shelton?<\/span>Shelton was the only American expedition member still alive. His account is vital, if hindered by the passage of time and his fading memory and health (he died in November).<\/span><\/span> He had been receiving hospice care in a V.A. hospital bed in Utah for more than a year. He had a Kringle-like white beard and eyes that sparkled when he laughed. <\/a>How did you track him down?<\/span>Those two vital tools of reporting: A lot of dialing and sheer luck. It took a long time \u2014 I engaged with a lot of Sheltons in the West that I thought were related (some thought they might be, too) but ultimately weren’t. One of our researchers led me to a woman who lived on the East Coast but once had a shared address with a John Shelton. She answered the phone. She was an old friend who led me to John’s daughter.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nHe was the last American from the expedition still alive.
\n
\nShelton remembered getting sick from the altitude and being the first in the group to return to base camp. He kept company with Bustos, bonding over their shared affinity for science. Both were 25, the youngest in the group.
\n
\nA day later came Eubank and Dafoe, more sick than Shelton. After another day came Petroske, with the help of Alfonso, the guide.
\n
\nShelton described looking through binoculars at the Polish Glacier, expecting to see the remaining four climbers and spotting only three \u2014 and, later, only two. He remembered rushing uphill with Alfonso to see whether they could help.
\n
\nThey came upon Zeller and McMillen walking toward them. Shelton remembered the weight of the moment: Four people had gone up the glacier, but only two had returned.
\n
\nIt did not occur to Shelton that Cooper and Johnson were anything more than victims of a high-altitude tragedy. Foul play? \u201cHogwash,\u201d he said, 50 years later.
\n
\nWord traveled slowly off the mountain. Families were called. Wire services and hometown newspapers wrote hasty dispatches, filling gaps with presumptions and wild falsehoods. Another trio of staccato sentences that condense time. <\/a>Why did you write them this way?<\/span>It’s counter-intuitive, maybe, but I find that big thoughts sometimes work best with short sentences. Of course these things happened, but they didn’t need expansive explanations. Say them and give the reader a change of pace, which is always welcome.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIn Cooper\u2019s hometown in Kansas, the paper reported that he \u201cwas presumed dead after a fall from the top of the mountain into a deep crevice during a blinding snowstorm.\u201d
\n
\nThe U.S. Embassy in Buenos Aires sent a memo to the U.S. secretary of state\u2019s office, trying to stanch misinformation.
\n
\n\u201cDeaths did not occur as a result of a fall as reported by United Press International and Associated Press or as the result of an avalanche as reported by Reuters,\u201d the embassy said.
\n
\nNews outlets in Mendoza were on the story more exhaustively and accurately. The first news was reported in Los Andes on Feb. 4: \u201cFears for the Lives of Two North American Climbers,\u201d the headline read. There was a map of the route. Featured prominently were two smiling photos of Johnson and Cooper, taken at Hotel Nutibara two weeks earlier.
\n
\nIn the video of the interview with Shelton, you can be heard saying, \u201cThere are a lot of smart people in Mendoza who think this maybe wasn\u2019t an accident.\u201d <\/a>Where do you come down on the question?<\/span>It’s a fact, really, and I wanted his reaction. If you’re asking my opinion \u2014was it an accident? \u2014 it’s not my place to give it. But I wouldn’t have written the story, and written it this way, if I thought the answer was clear. That would be disrespectful to everyone, including readers and the memories of those involved.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIn the same video, Aconcagua guide Ulises Corvalan\u00a0 says that \u201cclimbers of the moment say,\u201d that Cooper and Johnson were romantically involved, \u201cand somebody in the same team killed both of them.\u201d Yet the story has already established that Johnson was gay and Cooper and Johnson barely knew each other, facts that Corvalan didn\u2019t seem to be aware of. <\/a>How credible a source do you consider him?<\/span>Corvalan is an expert on the mountain, but in this instance, he stands as a proxy for the stories that have been handed down. Of course he doesn’t know what happened. But he is a link in the chain of telephone tag, where you whisper something to someone, who whispers it to someone else, and see how garbled it comes out at the end. Are there truths still left in the garbled messages handed down for decades?<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cThe expedition was starting to fall apart before even the work on the ice began,\u201d the next day\u2019s story said, just as Americans were getting false accounts of avalanches and blinding snowstorms.
\n
\nAt the base of Aconcagua, Alfonso and the American survivors were held for questioning. In Mendoza, a judge was assigned to the case. So was a police investigator. Officials labeled the case \u201caveriguaci\u00f3n de homicidio culposo\u201d \u2014 investigation of manslaughter.
\n
\nEven the American government validated the suspicion. It was standard procedure for the case to remain open, the embassy wrote in its files, to \u201censure that foul play may be ruled out.\u201d
\n
\nThe seeds of speculation were planted.
\n
\n\u201cIt needs a deeper investigation,\u201d Los Andes wrote. In a structure like this, how do you determine where to insert key points of tension? A: The tension at key moments is organic. I certainly decide where to break a section and where to begin another, but this story involves so many questions that it was easy to find those tension points.\n

THE SECRET MEETING<\/h3>\nTHE AMERICANS RETURNED<\/strong> to Hotel Nutibara, avoiding reporters staked out in the lobby. Bustos, the base camp manager, came to say goodbye to his new American friends. They would not see him. Fifty years on, it still saddens him.
\n
\nThe U.S. State Department didn\u2019t have much luck, either. Consul Wilbur W. Hitchcock tried to speak to the Americans during an overnight layover in Buenos Aires.
\n
\n\u201cAll five looked tired and somewhat dazed,\u201d Hitchcock wrote in a report. (The sixth survivor, Eubank, had already left the country.)
\n
\nDafoe cautioned Hitchcock about the effects of high altitude on mind and memory. He said that the others had experienced hallucinations and perhaps a \u201cfeeling of unreality\u201d coming at such heights.
\n
\nHitchcock returned to the airport the next morning. He spent another 30 minutes trying to question the Americans before they boarded a plane to leave Argentina.
\n
\n\u201cThey were unable to reconstruct the climb with sufficient accuracy,\u201d Hitchcock wrote.
\n
\nNewspapers published a photograph from the tarmac. Shelton and Petroske smiled as McMillen appeared to say something over his shoulder. They carried packs and ice axes. A reporter asked Zeller to clarify the events on the mountain, papers reported, but Dafoe, a lawyer, stepped between them and would not let him answer.
\n
\nIt all added to the intrigue in Argentina. But if any of the smoldering speculation followed the survivors back to the United States, it was quickly snuffed out.
\n
\nIn Portland, the president of Mazamas wrote a secret memo. He called for a special closed meeting of club leadership and the survivors of the expedition, to be held two days later.
\n
\n\u201cNONE BUT THE ABOVE-NAMED WILL BE ALLOWED TO ATTEND. The location is to be kept SECRET \u2026 repeat \u2026 SECRET!\u201d
\n
\nThe memo said that the idea was to \u201clearn the \u2018straight of things\u2019 from people involved.\u201d
\n
\n\u201cPresumably,\u201d it continued, \u201ca resultant will be the dispelling of certain suspicions, uncertainties, rumors, whatever, which may have come to your attention and have been amplified by the confused communications during the expedition and by conflicting or incomplete newspaper reports.\u201d
\n
\nThe meeting was held at Dafoe\u2019s law office. Two days later, on Feb. 15, Dafoe\u2019s secretary typed a three-page \u201cchronological summary of events.\u201d <\/a>How did you obtain the memo?<\/span>One of the families has it.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIt was the story that survivors told their hometown newspapers. And it was the basis for Dafoe\u2019s formal expedition report published in the Mazamas annual in 1973, which concluded that the deaths were an accident, that Johnson and Cooper were desperate to reach the summit, and that \u201cthey probably died of pulmonary edema.\u201d
\n
\nThey did not. This statement is flat and definitive. Is it meant as a cliffhanger? A: Funny, a friend later said that this was their favorite line. It might be the last line I added, shortly before it published. I had read the final draft aloud to myself (something I try to do, to “hear” it) and my brain quickly answered Dafoe’s presumption. So I typed it in and liked it.


\nTHE JOHNSONS<\/strong> and the Coopers were religious Midwestern families. They trusted higher powers and government officials. They grieved but did not wallow, at least publicly.
\n
\nIt is unclear how much they interacted, if at all.
\n
\nThe Coopers held a memorial service in March, but desperately wanted John\u2019s body recovered for a proper burial in Kansas.
\n
\nCooper\u2019s father, also named John, wrote letters \u2014 to Los Andes, to Alfonso, to the State Department \u2014 in search of help. He learned Spanish so that he could read the news reports coming from Argentina. <\/a>How did you learn this?<\/span>I learned this from Cooper’s family. I also have a lot of documents with the father’s scribbles, translating Spanish into English.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nJanet Johnson\u2019s widowed mother, Mae Johnson, held a funeral service in April, at the Minneapolis church where her daughter played the organ as a teenager.
\n
\nShe did not ask for her body back. She understood that her daughter had said that if anything happened to her on Aconcagua, she wanted to be buried in the little cemetery not far from the trailhead. <\/a>How do you know this?<\/span>It’s not unusual for mountaineers to discuss their wishes should something go wrong. Janet’s family and and those on the expedition said that Janet made her wishes clear.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nLike John Cooper\u2019s father, Mae Johnson collected newspaper clippings and documents. In places where her daughter\u2019s name was spelled \u201cJeannette\u201d by Spanish-language papers, and even by some American ones, she crossed it out and carefully wrote \u201cJanet.\u201d
\n
\nAnd in places that quoted her daughter as saying, \u201cLet me die here,\u201d her mother blacked out the words so she never had to read them. <\/a>How did you come by these newspapers with the words blacked out and draw the conclusion that Johnson\u2019s mother did that?<\/span>We published one American example, but Janet’s family has many Spanish-language examples, too. Janet’s sister said that their mother was really bothered by the misspelling (I would guess that “Janet” became “Jeannette” because of how it might sound, phonetically, in Spanish in Argentina) and haunted by any suggestion that her daughter would ever want to die.<\/span><\/span>


\nIN ARGENTINA, JUDGE<\/strong> Victorio Miguel Calandria Ag\u00fcero wanted to know: How did John Cooper and Janet Johnson die? There could be no sure answers without the bodies.
\n
\nIn late 1973, on the crest of a new summer climbing season in the Andes, a four-man team was assembled to look for them. Alfonso, wounded by criticism of his role as guide, would lead it.
\n
\nA National Geographic reporter and photographer named Loren McIntyre heard about this and showed up to join the team. Alfonso was glad to have him.
\n
\nThey carried two plastic toboggans, the kind children use to sled down icy slopes, that they had reinforced with sheet metal screwed to the \u00a0bottom. <\/a>Such a precise detail. How did you learn about it?<\/span>I interviewed lots of people who did not appear directly in the story, including people who helped recover the bodies. They described this. And McIntyre wrote about it and took photos.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nA week later, at the foot of the Polish Glacier, they found the ghostly evidence of the American expedition \u2014 tattered tents, a torn blue sleeping bag leaking feathers.
\n
\nAbout 150 yards uphill from camp they found Cooper\u2019s frozen body.
\n
\nHe was stretched out on relatively flat terrain, his legs extended and crossed. His hands were bare, across his abdomen. His jacket was on but his hood had fallen behind his head.
\n
\n\u201cJohn Cooper was a tall and large man and he was frozen stiff,\u201d McIntyre reported to investigators. \u201cHe was like a statue of ice and the toboggan was about half the length of his body so arranging him so that his clothes and body would not be damaged in the descent was not an easy thing and it was cold and windy and tempers were running short as we tried to get him lashed to the sled.\u201d <\/a>Was this a written statement? How did you locate it?<\/span>Immediately after the recovery, McIntyre provided a long statement and description of events for some sort of insurance purposes. He gave the Coopers a copy.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nA storm blew in. The men left Cooper for the night, driving stakes around him to keep him in place, and descended to the safety of camp.
\n
\nThe next day, McIntyre was first to the body and did a closer inspection. He took detailed photographs of Cooper and his belongings \u201cto make it supremely evident how he was equipped\u201d in case there were questions from investigators or reporters.
\n
\nHe found Cooper\u2019s diary. <\/a>Where is the diary now?<\/span>McIntyre took photographs of every page, but (at Alfonso’s behest) he left it and other belongings (including a camera) for investigators. He later told the family he regretted this. We cannot find those items now.<\/span><\/span> He found an opened letter from Cooper\u2019s wife, Sandy. McIntyre read it aloud and translated it for the others. How do you know this? A: McIntyre’s account. He corresponded for a few years with Cooper’s parents and widow.
\n
\n\u201cKeep roped up, and don\u2019t forget the crampons, as I don\u2019t know how I\u2019d replace you,\u201d she wrote. \u201cYou are by far the best husband and loving one, and really good Dad, in the entire world.\u201d <\/a>How did you decide what words to select from the letter?<\/span>I thought it was important to remind people that this was a real person, someone who was loved. And it’s eerie that she mentioned the crampons and staying “roped up,” since he was found without a crampon or ropes.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThere was no sign of Johnson. McIntyre combed the snowfield for several hours before giving up, he said. He considered her death the bigger mystery and thought she might have wandered off the glacier\u2019s sheer edge.
\n
\nDetails about Cooper got out fast. He was missing a crampon. There was no ice ax. He was on a gentle slope. His battered face held a look of frozen terror. And his abdomen had a cylindrical hole, bloody and deep. It had gone undetected until his body thawed at a lower elevation and his frozen hands could be moved. <\/a>These are such gruesome details. What\u2019s the source?<\/span>A mix of sources, including McIntyre and the newspaper accounts and leaked photos published at the time. The Argentine media published a lot of gruesome photos of both Cooper and Johnson when their bodies were found.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cThe highest percentage of possibility is that Cooper\u2019s death was an accident,\u201d Alfonso told reporters. But if Cooper had fallen on his own ice ax, it must have been very violent, he said, given the five layers of clothes he wore and the depth of the wound.
\n
\nAlfonso also said that Zeller told him that he had found Cooper sitting, dead, with his head between his hands.
\n
\n\u201cBut the way Cooper was found reveals that Zeller\u2019s account was not exact,\u201d Los Andes wrote.
\n
\nMcIntyre insisted that \u201cthere is no mystery at all.\u201d
\n
\n\u201cHe fell on his ice ax and he injured himself,\u201d he said in a statement to investigators. \u201cHe was in so much discomfort and pain when he was nearly to base camp that when he finally got off the steep part of the glacier, got down on the flat, he had evidently stopped, sat down and removed his gloves and was probably trying to examine himself and his wound when he fell unconscious and froze to death.\u201d
\n
\nMcIntyre left a sliver of doubt. In a 1974 letter to Sandy Cooper, he suggested that McMillen and Zeller \u201chave probably formed some conclusions in their own minds which may be true or which may be an adjustment with conscience they can live with.\u201d He continued, \u201cI wonder whether you have ever talked with them?\u201d
\n
\nIt is unclear if the Cooper or Johnson families ever did.
\n
\nCooper\u2019s body, per the family\u2019s wishes, was transported to Kansas. It arrived in a metal coffin, shipped inside a plain wooden crate.
\n
\nThe coffin was buried in the cold December ground in El Dorado. The empty crate sat for decades in the garage of Cooper\u2019s parents, who couldn\u2019t part with it.
\n
\nThe results of the full autopsy were sealed by the judge. But he released the cover page, which noted the cause of death. <\/a>Would \u201cinvestigative narrative\u201d be an appropriate description for \u201cGhosts on the Glacier?\u201d<\/span>I suppose. I\u2019m in a cozy position where I don\u2019t have to categorize my stories. This was \u201cinvestigative\u201d \u2014 aren\u2019t all stories, in their way? \u201cNarrative\u201d is a journalism word that I don\u2019t quite understand.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nIt was not exposure, not pulmonary edema, not even the mysterious wound to the abdomen that plunged through five layers of clothes.
\n
\nCausa de la defunci\u00f3n: Contusi\u00f3n cr\u00e1neo encef\u00e1lica.
\n
\nCause of death: Cranial contusions. Injuries to the skull and brain. The plot twists. <\/a>Could you describe the process of writing and revision that enabled you to wait until now to make this dramatic reveal?<\/span>It’s less an intended plot twist than a chronological piece of information. This is how people experienced the news at the time, and it seemed right that readers should have some semblance of that.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe judge made only one declaration: We need Janet Johnson\u2019s body.
\n
\n<\/a>What method do you use to organize all of the information you reported?<\/span>My Google Drive is a mess of files, from photos to research, interviews, travel plans and various drafts. Typically, I have a Google Doc for research for each story (I call it “notes”), and I’ll start throwing interview transcripts into it. When I write, I open a new Doc, named “draft,” and sometimes there might be a “draft2,” “draft3” and so on, until I get to “final,” which I then put into the NYT system. One organizational challenge here, beyond the volume of material, was all the visual elements \u2014 hundreds of photos, memos, letters, newspaper clippings. At some point, my head spinning, I spent hours changing all the names of them to start with the date, so that they fell in chronological order and were easier to find.<\/span><\/span>\n

FINDING JANET JOHNSON<\/h3>\n\nALBERTO COLOMBERO WAS 17<\/strong> when he and two others found Johnson\u2019s body. He keeps the photos from that day in a small box.
\n
\nIt was Feb. 9, 1975. Colombero was climbing Aconcagua with his father, Ernesto, and Guillermo Vieiro, both experienced Aconcagua climbers, now both deceased. A storm forced them to abort a summit attempt. The three decided to come down the Polish Glacier. They knew the story well. They knew Johnson\u2019s body might be somewhere. <\/a>How did you locate Colombero?<\/span>The magic of Nicol\u00e1s Garcia and teamwork. He and I scoured newspaper accounts, memos, even the margins of Cooper’s diary, and recorded every name with a connection to this story. In this case, we knew that Guillermo Vieiro was widely credited for finding Janet’s body; he was a well-known figure around Aconcagua and spoke to the media about it. We knew he was with a friend named Ernesto Colombero, who was less known. Both are dead. But somewhere we learned that there was a third person, rarely mentioned, on that trip \u2014 Colombero’s son. Nicol\u00e1s found him near Buenos Aires.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nColombero saw something reddish to his left. It was obscured by knee-high penitentes, the ice pillars characteristic of Aconcagua, and partially covered in fresh snow.
\n
\nThe men thought it was a tarp, a tent, maybe a backpack.
\n
\nThey found Johnson face up. Her face, blackened from two years of exposure, was battered in three places. White bone stuck out of her nose, her forehead and her chin, where skin hung down like a flap. There were blood stains on her face and jacket.
\n
\nA crampon was missing from one foot. Ropes were tangled around her. Her hands were bare, her light jacket unzipped. They could not find her ice ax.
\n
\nThe slope was shallow. Didn\u2019t Zeller say that he and Johnson had a long fall together? There was no way this was where they fell, they thought.
\n
\nColombero\u2019s memory holds one other striking detail: a rock sitting on top of Johnson. Her body was in a field of ice. <\/a>Your prose has a relentless quality that rivets the reader. How do you achieve that?<\/span>I don’t know that I’m conscious of my style, but I am conscious of how it sounds in my head and ear. I would love to think of a reader nodding at a certain line, or making a face of surprise, or even laughing, the way certain music and lyrics do that to me. A lot of newspaper writing bores me. I don’t want to bore myself.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nColombero said that he was too young and inexperienced at the time to draw conclusions. But the older men, for the rest of their lives, were sure Johnson was murdered, Colombero said.
\n
\n\u201cThey thought everything was planned,\u201d he added. \u201cThat it wasn\u2019t an accident, that someone had hit her and tried to make it look like she rolled down the hill in exhaustion.\u201d This strikes me as a particularly damning conclusion on their part. What do you think? A: Nice try! In the minds of those who found Janet, it was a crime scene. That’s all I’m trying to convey, without judgment.
\n
\nTheir discovery and version of events were soon highlighted in the Mendoza newspapers, along with gruesome photos they took. Johnson\u2019s body was just 20 meters from where Cooper\u2019s body had been found, the reports said.
\n
\nThe three men were unprepared to bring Johnson\u2019s body down. So they dug it out and shifted it so that a future recovery expedition would see it.
\n
\nThey found a ring with a cloudy brown stone on Johnson\u2019s finger. They removed it and passed it to an American climber named Allen Steck, who happened to be on the mountain at the same time. In April 1975, he sent it to Abrahamson, Johnson\u2019s sister.
\n
\n\u201cI am enclosing the ring that Janet was wearing when we examined her,\u201d he wrote. \u201cWe did not find anything of her equipment or her camera (assuming she had one).\u201d
\n
\nThe ring is the only possession from the trip that Johnson\u2019s family received for 50 years.


\nIN FEBRUARY 1976<\/strong>, William Montalbano, the Latin America correspondent for The Miami Herald, wrote two articles about the deadly mysteries of Aconcagua.
\n
\nThe second focused on plans for the recovery of Johnson\u2019s body.
\n
\n\u201cHow Did Janet Johnson Really Die?\u201d the headline read.
\n
\n\u201cThere is sufficient mystery and enough unanswered questions surrounding the death of Janet Johnson and NASA engineer John Cooper on the same 1973 expedition to have raised the suspicion of foul play,\u201d Montalbano wrote.
\n
\nThe article focused on Ramon Arrieta Cortez, the lead investigator, who \u201cmust establish if Aconcagua killed Janet Johnson or if she was murdered,\u201d Montalbano wrote.
\n
\nSoon after, a team of men, mostly police officers in Mendoza with climbing experience, found Johnson\u2019s body. Her face was darker, far more mummified than a year earlier, because of recent exposure to sun and wind. They found no other belongings.
\n
\nThe men struggled to extricate Johnson from the ice. They crudely sliced her left arm at the shoulder and left it, with a broken watch still on her wrist.
\n
\n\u201cWe had to dig the ice to get her unfrozen from the glacier,\u201d said Rudy Parra, one of the men, now a retired police officer. \u201cIt was like taking a piece of the glacier off the mountain.\u201d
\n
\nThe room where the Cooper and Johnson autopsies were performed in Mendoza is still in use today. It sits in a worn, one-story stucco building that looks like a barrack. It is equipped with stainless steel tables, electric tools that hang from the ceiling and concrete floors that slope to drains. <\/a>Why do you include this description?<\/span>This is an example of something we discussed earlier. It would be easy and economical to lose this graf. The reader would never notice. But I was there. I saw this room. I feel a deep need to bring the reader along to places I’ve been, to help them see it. It can be a fine line between details and narcissism. So I made the line as thin (and the graf as quick) as possible.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nDaniel Araujo was a medical student and an assistant to the medical examiner, Dr. Carlos DeCicco, on the Cooper and Johnson autopsies. Today he is a neurosurgeon in Mendoza.
\n
\nHe still remembers Cooper because of the skull fracture and, especially, the tubular hole to his abdomen. It was like a bullet hole, perfectly round. The wound was so deep that it reached all the way to Cooper\u2019s spine. Araujo always suspected an ice screw.
\n
\nJohnson\u2019s autopsy stands out because of the damage to her face \u2014 bone exposed in three places. Araujo recalled deep cuts on her boot that made him think someone had taken some hard whacks at her.
\n
\nJohnson\u2019s autopsy report, with photos, was submitted to the judge. Like Cooper, she officially died of contusi\u00f3n cr\u00e1neo encef\u00e1lica. A brain injury.
\n
\nAraujo has been haunted by the memory of those autopsies for most of his life.
\n
\n\u201cThey were killed,\u201d he said. \u201cBoth of them. These kinds of injuries were not self-inflicted.\u201d <\/a>He states this so-matter of factly in a video interview. Are you convinced?<\/span>Nice try again! His views are his, and we’ve explained his expertise in the matter.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nWas that the consensus of the examiners in the room?
\n
\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cNo doubt about it.\u201d Did Araujo\u2019s conclusion that the deaths were homicides raise any libel concerns? While all the climbers were dead, survivors can sue for defamation. Was your story lawyered? A: I believe our lawyers read the piece, yes.
\n
\nNews media coverage did not go that far. In \u201cforensic circles,\u201d Los Andes reported, \u201cit appeared to be a crime, though the police had not made any accusations.\u201d It left the case open for public interpretation yet again.
\n
\n\u201cWere the wounds to the head from a fall or deliberate?\u201d Los Andes asked. \u201cPerhaps the truth will never be known.\u201d
\n
\nThat is where any serious consideration ended. On March 24, 1976, Argentina\u2019s government under Isabel Per\u00f3n fell to a deadly military coup<\/a>. Argentina was turned inside out, and tens of thousands are thought to have died in the seven-year upheaval. <\/a>Did any of your sources conjecture that the case might have been solved were it not for the coup?<\/span>I’m not sure if any think it would have been “solved” conclusively, though some still hold that slim hope. The presumption is that the focus would have remained on it, at least for a while longer, at the behest of an engaged public, the media, maybe the families and U.S. government.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nAny formal investigation into the American expedition was handed over to the collective imagination. The mystery seemed to freeze in place.
\n
\nDays before the coup, the body of Johnson was buried in a small mountaineer\u2019s cemetery near the trailheads to Aconcagua. No one from her family came. But a flower bouquet rested on her coffin. \u201cDe Tu Madre,\u201d it read \u2014 From Your Mother.
\n
\nAmong the two dozen witnesses were members of the police group that recovered her body, including Arrieta Cortez, the lead investigator. (According to his son, Juan, Arrieta Cortez died in 2017 and never reached a conclusion in the case.)
\n
\n\u201cUnder the sky of America, we bury a daughter here on Argentine soil,\u201d Arrieta Cortez said at the graveyard gathering. How do you know what was said? A: There were reporters there, and he was quoted.
\n
\nRepresentatives from the American embassy had made the 650-mile trip from Buenos Aires. The ceremony took 15 minutes.
\n
\n\u201cI wish to inform you that your daughter, Janet Johnson, was buried on March 19, 1976, pursuant to your request, at the Mountain Climber\u2019s Cemetery at Punta del Inca,\u201d the embassy wrote to Johnson\u2019s mother. \u201cFuneral services at the gravesite were very dignified and impressive.\u201d
\n
\nA man arrived late, rushing to the service just as it ended. It was Miguel Alfonso, the guide, there to pay his last respects.\n

THE CAMERA<\/h3>\n\nFOR NEARLY<\/strong> 50 years, a Nikomat camera, carried by an American woman, sat frozen in a high-altitude time capsule. But it was not frozen in place.
\n
\nWhere the camera was dropped may not be where it was found. The Polish Glacier has been shrinking and shifting, cracking and moving downhill by the pull of gravity and with the change of seasons.
\n
\nAnd on a sunny day in February 2020, the heart of the Argentine summer, the camera sat on a stocky penitente, like a museum piece on a pedestal.
\n
\nIt was Marcos Calamaro, a young porter, who brought it down to camp. It was Ulises Corvalan, the experienced guide, who recognized the name stamped on the bottom.
\n
\nAt the camp that day was a photographer named Pablo Betancourt. He recognized that the film inside might be evidence to be preserved, as it had been for most of five decades. He put the camera into a case and stuffed it with snow.
\n
\nHe contacted The New York Times, wondering whether such a discovery might be of interest. <\/a>How and why did he contact you?<\/span>Pablo sent a tweet with my Twitter handle, asking for an email address. He later said he knew me from writing \u201cSnow Fall,\u201d and thought this story had elements that might interest me. And he wondered what else the melting glacier might be revealing.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nJohnson\u2019s arm was found, in a red jacket sleeve, near the glacier\u2019s edge. Then her knapsack, filled with gear and two more aluminum canisters, with film inside.
\n
\nIn Oregon, Johnson\u2019s only surviving immediate family member got a surprise call, sharing the news of the discovery.
\n
\nAbrahamson\u2019s response was clear. Yes, develop the film. Find out everything you can. Please. <\/a>Why didn\u2019t you quote\u00a0 her directly?<\/span>As a practical matter, I wasn’t interviewing her or recording her. I was just in conversation. So I don’t know the exact quote. Even if I did, I probably wouldn’t have used it, because it’s so transactional. I like the quote I used just below, taken from a subsequent conversation.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n\u201cShe\u2019s still my sister,\u201d she said. \u201cI still want to know what really happened to her.\u201d


\nINDIAN HEAD, SASKATCHEWAN<\/strong>, is about an hour east of Regina. Its tallest structure is a grain elevator. There is not a mountain in sight.
\n
\nOn a downtown corner is a former bank, a two-story brick structure from the 1800s. Today it is home to Film Rescue International, run by a man named Greg Miller. <\/a>What logistical challenges did the story pose for you and your visual journalism colleagues?<\/span>The first big challenge was a blend of timing and travel. The camera was found in February 2020, at the onset of Covid. The specialty photo lab where we wanted to take this (shout out to colleague Josh Haner for steering us to Film Rescue International) was in Indian Head, Saskatchewan. We wanted to hand-deliver the camera and film rolls, to avoid airport X-rays and the chance of anything getting lost. Should Pablo bring it? Should I go get it? I almost got on a plane in late February, but I was afraid I might get stuck in South America as Covid was shutting the world down. We decided to pause a few weeks for Covid to blow over. (Ha.) In the meantime, the lab instructed Pablo to keep the camera and film in the same type of glacial setting where it had been for 47 years. He put it in his freezer in Mendoza, Argentina. It stayed there for two years.<\/span><\/span><\/a>In the meantime, I began a deep research dive, mostly trying to find anyone associated with the expedition who was still alive, both in the United States and Argentina. The Times\u2019 research staff helped get me started. A journalist in Mendoza named Nicol\u00e1s Garcia, a friend of Pablo Betancourt\u2019s, chased down leads and became our fixer and translator.<\/span><\/span><\/a>With this story on ice (groan), I mostly did other things. I covered the Summer Olympics in Tokyo and the Winter Olympics in Beijing. It was in China in 2022 that I told my friend and colleague Emily Rhyne, one of our great video journalists, all about the Aconcagua story. She saw the visual, multi-media possibilities and enthusiastically joined the team. We started to move. Pablo Betancourt met us in Regina with the film and camera.<\/span><\/span><\/a>Once we had the images, we made plans to do in-person investigations and interviews. The first stop was Oregon, to see Janet Johnson\u2019s sister and show her what we had. Then I made a 10-day trip to Argentina, to work with Nicol\u00e1s, knock on doors, dig through archives, interview people and make plans for a return trip with the video crew. We did that in early 2023. Among the other trips were one I made to visit the brother of John Cooper, whose family had loads of information about the expedition. And all of us went to visit John Shelton, the only one of the eight Americans on the expedition who was still alive. He died in November.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nHis small team of technicians receive and process old or damaged undeveloped film from all over the world \u2014 rolls abandoned in attics, reels discovered in shipwrecks, the forgotten Instamatic found with film inside. Who chose Miller\u2019s company? A: Josh Haner, a colleague, friend and Pulitzer-winning photographer, is now our senior editor for photo technology. He quickly began searching for the best development option.
\n
\nNow Miller was holding a camera that had been locked in a glacier at roughly 20,000 feet for almost five decades. The camera was intact; the only crack was inside the lens. The mechanisms worked. The leather holster screwed to the camera bottom had probably protected it from leaks.
\n
\nIt turns out that a glacier on Aconcagua is not a bad place to preserve film. Humidity is always a detriment, but the Andes are notably dry. High-altitude radiation can be a concern, but the camera had been entombed in ice. Cold temperatures are much better for film than hot ones.
\n
\nMiller took the camera into a dark room, flicked on an infrared light that would not expose the film and clicked the back of the camera open.
\n
\n\u201cI think we\u2019re going to see something,\u201d he said. <\/a>Is this reconstructed or were you present?<\/span>I was there when they developed it. We also had a photographer (Max Whittaker) and two videographers (Emily Rhyne and Pablo Bettancourt), capturing things inside the dark room.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nThe processing responsibility fell to Erik LaBossiere, a 35-year-old part-time pro wrestler and metal-band guitarist with a bald head, a soft voice and arms covered in tattoos. <\/a>What a vivid character description. How do you get details like that from your notebook onto the screen?<\/span>As I’m interviewing people, I often write down descriptions \u2014 what they’re wearing, facial hair or color, things that might be useful later.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nHe was nervous. There was only one chance to do this.
\n
\nUnder infrared light, LaBossiere moved the rolls of film into lightproof drums. The drums went into a machine that washed the film in a cycle of solutions, precisely timed \u2014 an automated version of the dunk-and-soak method from old photographic development. <\/a>Why did you describe this part of the process as \u201cdunk-and-soak?\u201d<\/span>I’m sure the method has a real name. But how would I explain this to, say, my wife? A friend? This is a sign of my experience on high-school yearbook staffs many years ago.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nWhen LaBossiere emerged from the dark room, he seemed pleased.
\n
\nHad he not known the origin of the film \u2014 trapped on a glacier in Argentina for decades \u2014 LaBossiere \u201cwould have assumed it was on a shelf somewhere,\u201d he said.
\n
\nAfter more machines and more solutions, LaBossiere unspooled the film and held a strip to the light.
\n
\n\u201cYeah,\u201d he said. \u201cMountains and people.\u201d
\n
\nJohnson was a good photographer. The photos are beautiful, haunting, marred only by streaks of moisture that color the frames, some more than others. They turn ordinary landscapes into something closer to art.
\n
\nOne of the rolls was unused. Johnson had carried it toward the summit with the apparent expectation that she would need it.
\n
\nAnother, found in a canister, had 36 exposures. The first frame was shot from a valley just short of base camp, an ethereal image of snow-covered mountains. Then came lots of penitentes and snow-covered peaks. They chronicle the expedition\u2019s up-and-down method of moving from one camp to another, acclimatizing and hauling gear.
\n
\nThere is one photo of Johnson, having handed her camera to someone else. She is smiling, wearing a floppy hat and heavy-duty aluminum-framed glacier glasses. She has an ice ax in her right hand and an overstuffed pack on her back.
\n
\nThe roll found inside the camera had 24 photographs.
\n
\nThe seventh photo was taken near camp at the foot of the Polish Glacier. Only Johnson, Cooper, Zeller and McMillen went higher than that. Johnson snapped pictures from the glacier. Footprints dent the soft snow.
\n
\nAround midday, the sun high and the shadows short, Johnson took a photo of one of the other climbers, who was downhill and sitting on the glacier.
\n
\nAfternoon shadows got longer with each photograph. Soon the four climbers would dig a cave to sleep in. Cooper would head downhill the next morning while the other three continued up.
\n
\nJohnson took more photos after Cooper was gone. The 21st photograph showed either Zeller or McMillen climbing ahead of her, into the afternoon sun, each step making deep holes in the snow. <\/a>Why did you devote so much attention to Johnson\u2019s photographs?<\/span>Without them, we wouldn’t be telling the story at all. And they are beautiful and revealing, helping us confirm facts and see the world that she saw.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nPublished in the Mazamas annual later that year is the opposite photograph, taken by Zeller \u2014 downhill, of Johnson hiking up on the summit ridge, at about 22,000 feet.
\n
\nJohnson wore her floppy hat. Her coat was unzipped and her mittens dangled from strings at her sleeves. She held her ice ax in her right hand.
\n
\nBefore dark, Johnson snapped three more photographs of the surrounding Andes. If she was oxygen-deprived or delirious, she still knew how to focus the lens, compose the frame and hold the camera steady to take clear photographs.
\n
\nThat is where the film ends. That is where the legend begins.
\n
\nThe film does not solve the mystery. <\/a>Does this dilute the tension that built throughout the story?<\/span>In short, yes. I was aware of this tension \u2014 will the photos solve the case? \u2014 but careful not to overpromise. I would have loved for a photo to definitively answer the question of what happened. But, really, how reasonable is that expectation? So how upfront should we be? When I began writing, I saw this as a classic yarn. If you told this around a campfire, how would you tell it? When would you reveal which bits of information? I trusted that readers would see that the story isn’t really about the photos, is it?<\/span><\/span> It adds to it \u2014 it tells you what Johnson saw in her final hours \u2014 but not how she felt. Not how she died.
\n
\nNot every discovery leads to revelation. Some just make you want to know more.\n

THE MYSTERY<\/h3>\nIF JANET JOHNSON<\/strong> and John Cooper were still alive, they would be in their late 80s.
\n
\nAll of the Americans from the expedition to Aconcagua are gone. Dafoe, the leader, died in a car crash on a rural Montana highway in 1975. Zeller died in 2003, McMillen in 2011. Shelton died in November, leaving behind a collection of old photos, Mazamas memos and newspaper files.
\n
\n\u201cIt remains the greatest mystery of Aconcagua,\u201d said Moran, the Argentine journalist who covered the expedition and its aftermath. He is 80 now. \u201cThis story had nearly faded from popular memory, but there are enough reasons for doubts and arguments to make the mystery persist.\u201d
\n
\nFolklore happens when facts are short and time is long. After all these years, this story is not about long-gone Americans on the mountain, but the unknown that lives in those who remain. It is less about certainty than memory and imagination.
\n
\nA question arises again and again among those familiar with the story: Just what are the possibilities? An \u201caccident\u201d is a tidy catchall, a useful way to move on. What if it was something else?
\n
\nCorvalan, a dean of Aconcagua guides, with 59 successful summits, first heard the stories from old-timers when he began climbing the mountain 35 years ago.
\n
\nThere were theories and embellishments, dots connected with fuzzy lines.
\n
\nA love triangle gone wrong. A stash of money that was never found. Cooper as a government agent. Assassins who crossed the nearby Chilean border. Is that why Loren McIntyre, an American, had shown up, as if from thin air, to find the bodies? Why was he taking so many photographs?
\n
\nCorvalan studied Johnson\u2019s photos from 1973. He noted the shallow slope and the uncharacteristically soft snow on the Polish Glacier that year. A long fall and a deadly slide down the ice were improbable, maybe impossible, he said.
\n
\nBut something else bothered Corvalan. He has seen bodies ravaged by even short falls. Bones are broken. Clothing and equipment are shredded.
\n
\nWhy, Corvalan wondered, did so little of that appear to have happened to Johnson and Cooper? Why was the damage confined mostly to their faces?
\n
\nCorvalan thought about it. He is a mountaineer. He has been atop the Seven Summits. He knows what experience and common sense tell him: an accident. But more than before, Corvalan believes that \u2014 maybe \u2014\u00a0there was foul play. Why include \u201cmaybe\u201d as aqualifier \u201cmaybe\u201d? A: I sensed that his ambivalence grew over the months I interacted with him. Maybe I wanted to protect him. He really doesn’t know what to think. Which is illustrative, I think.
\n
\nFoul play<\/em>. It is a persistent, vague euphemism in this story. Negligence? Manslaughter? Worse? How? Why? Is it even possible at such an altitude, with such fatigue?
\n
\nCorvalan shrugged.
\n
\nRoberto Bustos, the base camp manager, is now 76. He has a file of yellowed clippings and photos at home. He has a rope that belonged to Shelton that he holds as a treasured memento.
\n
\nJohnson\u2019s newly developed pictures stir memories but do not change his mind.
\n
\nHe sees what happened to Johnson and Cooper as \u201ca mountain accident,\u201d he said, but he does not dismiss the possibility of something violent. Norms shift at high altitudes, he said. Desperation toys with right and wrong.
\n
\nOne thing that has not changed in 50 years, on mountains from Aconcagua to Everest, is the notion of ethics and responsibility. They get squishy at high altitudes, amid the dangers and limits of the moment.
\n
\n\u201cIt\u2019s a different world at 6,000 meters, with different laws and rules,\u201d Bustos said. \u201cAnd the behavior \u2014 you would go down to 5,000 meters and think these people are crazy.\u201d
\n
\nIf their climbing partners did all they reasonably could to help Cooper and Johnson, wasn\u2019t that enough? If they abandoned their colleagues to save themselves, or somehow did harm to them, could they be blamed? <\/a>Why did you inject your questions here?<\/span>You may notice in this story that I never say what the possible “foul play” could be. It’s your imagination, not mine. I want readers to draw conclusions on their own. This section is almost like an invitation for discussion. I wanted to ground people. What I was thinking was this: Even if you think someone could have done this \u2014 do you? \u2014 isn’t there a deeper, squishy question about responsibility? We see this in mountaineering, as climbers step over dying strangers on their way to the top of something like Everest. Porters abandon clients to save themselves. Where does blame lie? Where do ethics and responsibility merge or divide? Don’t the questions get more complex the more you know?<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nZeller\u2019s widow, in her 90s, said through her son that she did not want to talk about the expedition and requested no further contact.
\n
\n\u201cAs a state policeman, he is precise, exacting and careful,\u201d the local newspaper wrote of Zeller in 1973. \u201cWhen he speaks he says only what needs to be said. There are mysteries of the mountain he cannot explain. He is not used to that.\u201d
\n
\nMcMillen\u2019s family said that he continued to climb mountains for the rest of his life, including Denali twice, even after he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He had more than 100 dairy cows, and would give slide presentations of his climbs to friends and family in the barn.
\n
\nHis children recall McMillen talking about how he and others were held and questioned in Argentina because of the deaths. They know little about any speculation of foul play, of the stories spun in Argentina. It seems impossible to them.
\n
\nJudge Victorio Miguel Calandria Ag\u00fcero never made a ruling in the case.\u00a0 Shortly before he died in 2022, he was asked about the American expedition by a local journalist, who said that readers had followed the coverage \u201clike a novel\u201d and raised the specter of murder.
\n
\n\u201cNone of that was ever proven,\u201d the judge said.
\n
\nAnd then, from the ice, came Johnson\u2019s camera. And whatever ghosts had been laid to rest were stirred back up again.


\nIN OREGON CITY, ORE.,<\/strong> Judie Abrahamson had not gone through her sister\u2019s belongings for years. They were stashed under the house, ignored if not forgotten.
\n
\nNone of it made a lot of sense \u2014 these slides of mountain landscapes and strangers in climbing gear, those yellowing newspaper clippings in Spanish where her mother crossed out every suggestion that her daughter ever wanted to die alone. <\/a>What\u2019s the purpose of this extended litany that reveals what happened to the climbers\u2019 survivors \u2014 first Johnson\u2019s sister, then Cooper\u2019s widow and son?<\/span>It’s to bring the story back to real people, today. Without it, it’s just mythology. With it, it’s heartbreak. It’s a way of saying: Let’s not lose sight that this had a real impact on real people, and they’re still feeling it.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nTo Abrahamson, Janet Johnson was not an accomplished climber in Colorado or the haunting name that echoes in the Andes. She was not a someone else\u2019s legend or anybody else\u2019s mystery.
\n
\nShe was Janet, a brainy 10-year-old who asked for a little sister and welcomed her to the family with a doll. She was an overachiever who grew into a woman that her mother could not understand.
\n
\nShe was just a big sister, Aunt Janet to Abrahamson\u2019s kids, who set out to prove that she could do anything she wanted, even climb the highest mountains.
\n
\nAbrahamson thinks about her sister and wonders how she might have grown old, might have climbed more mountains, might have come out, might have felt \u2026 accepted, even celebrated.
\n
\nIn Kansas, Joy Cooper is nearly 90, the older sister who remembers John Cooper as a little boy with so much wanderlust that their father had to build a fence to keep him in.
\n
\nShe remembers when people filled the church for his funeral, and they buried her little brother in the cemetery right after Christmas. Her parents were never quite the same after that.
\n
\nIn Texas, Randy Cooper, son of a NASA engineer, raised by a widowed mother who has since died, does not remember much of anything about his father. But he has been told that they share some of the same mannerisms, like the way they pop their knuckles. The section suggests Randy was interviewed. <\/a>Why did you write about him in the third person without quoting him?<\/span>I suppose I didn’t love any of the quotes. And you’ll notice \u2014 there are no quotes in this entire section. This was me, resuming my role as narrator \u2014 the one telling the campfire story.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\nAs Randy got older, he decided to go by his first name: John. And when people asked about his father, he would tell them the only thing he really knew: My dad died mountain climbing.
\n
\nThe Johnson and Cooper families never learned much about what happened on Aconcagua. They just knew that things went wrong, and that Janet and John were gone.
\n
\nThe details \u2014 the newspaper stories, the letters, the official documents, all the questions and regrets \u2014 were swallowed up by sadness, then by time. <\/a>Why did you choose to end the story this way? Were other approaches considered?<\/span>This was near the end of the first draft, which I left a bit loose not knowing what more I might learn or what the multimedia might entail. I had a few more grafs after this. But Mike Wilson had a thought: What if you just ended it here? As usual, he was right.<\/span><\/span><\/a>Does the ending fulfill the promise of the lead?<\/span>I’m not sure what the lede promised other than information about a camera found and its relationship to a bit of high-altitude folklore. In that respect, yes. And I hope it gives readers something they weren’t promised and weren’t expecting. Those are my favorite kinds of stories.<\/span><\/span>
\n
\n* * *
\n
\nChip Scanlan<\/strong> is an award-winning writer who taught at the Poynter Institute and now coaches writers around the world. He is the author of several books on writing and the newsletter Chip’s Writing Lessons.<\/a><\/em>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In “Ghosts on the Glacier,” John Branch and a New York Times multi-media team tell a tale with echoes of the 2012 Pulitzer-winning project “Snow Fall”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":95,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"topics":[],"authors":[13],"issue":[],"class_list":["post-2513","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-annotation-tuesday","authors-chip-scanlan"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nA reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"In "Ghosts on the Glacier," John Branch and a New York Times multi-media team tell a tale with echoes of the 2012 Pulitzer-winning project "Snow Fall"\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Nieman Storyboard\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"750\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"486\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"commonmedia\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"commonmedia\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"88 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"commonmedia\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/ad131fac9b2e8136d6171c8575cfc226\"},\"headline\":\"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/\"},\"wordCount\":17666,\"commentCount\":0,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg\",\"articleSection\":[\"Story Annotations\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/\",\"name\":\"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg\",\"width\":750,\"height\":486,\"caption\":\"At 23,000 feet, Aconcagua in Argentina is second-highest of the world's Seven Summits. Two to three climbers die each year trying to climb it, prompting some to call it the \\\"Mountain of Death.\\\" AP Photo \\\/ Esteban Felix\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/06\\\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\\\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/\",\"name\":\"Nieman Storyboard\",\"description\":\"\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#organization\",\"name\":\"Nieman Storyboard\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/NiemanKOLogo.svg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/app\\\/uploads\\\/2024\\\/02\\\/NiemanKOLogo.svg\",\"width\":1,\"height\":1,\"caption\":\"Nieman Storyboard\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/logo\\\/image\\\/\"}},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/#\\\/schema\\\/person\\\/ad131fac9b2e8136d6171c8575cfc226\",\"name\":\"commonmedia\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\\\/\\\/secure.gravatar.com\\\/avatar\\\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"commonmedia\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/wp\"],\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/niemanstoryboard.org\\\/author\\\/commonmedia\\\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard","og_description":"In \"Ghosts on the Glacier,\" John Branch and a New York Times multi-media team tell a tale with echoes of the 2012 Pulitzer-winning project \"Snow Fall\"","og_url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/","og_site_name":"Nieman Storyboard","article_published_time":"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00","article_modified_time":"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00","og_image":[{"width":750,"height":486,"url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"commonmedia","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"commonmedia","Est. reading time":"88 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/"},"author":{"name":"commonmedia","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#\/schema\/person\/ad131fac9b2e8136d6171c8575cfc226"},"headline":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery","datePublished":"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00","dateModified":"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/"},"wordCount":17666,"commentCount":0,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg","articleSection":["Story Annotations"],"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"CommentAction","name":"Comment","target":["https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#respond"]}]},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/","url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/","name":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery - Nieman Storyboard","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg","datePublished":"2024-02-06T12:16:21+00:00","dateModified":"2024-10-18T16:31:22+00:00","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/AP885679314764-e1706834982561.jpg","width":750,"height":486,"caption":"At 23,000 feet, Aconcagua in Argentina is second-highest of the world's Seven Summits. Two to three climbers die each year trying to climb it, prompting some to call it the \"Mountain of Death.\" AP Photo \/ Esteban Felix"},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/2024\/02\/06\/john-branch-snow-fall-pulitzer-prize-multi-media-narrative-mount-aconcagua\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"A reporting team trekked back 50 years to explore an unsolved climbing mystery"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#website","url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/","name":"Nieman Storyboard","description":"","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#organization","name":"Nieman Storyboard","url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/NiemanKOLogo.svg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/app\/uploads\/2024\/02\/NiemanKOLogo.svg","width":1,"height":1,"caption":"Nieman Storyboard"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"}},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/#\/schema\/person\/ad131fac9b2e8136d6171c8575cfc226","name":"commonmedia","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/7a67dac1d5145031a5e3f8bcb411f86c4aed5a7ebe4244392196080637ed18af?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"commonmedia"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp"],"url":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/author\/commonmedia\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2513","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2513"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2513\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11945,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2513\/revisions\/11945"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/95"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2513"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2513"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2513"},{"taxonomy":"topics","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/topics?post=2513"},{"taxonomy":"authors","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/authors?post=2513"},{"taxonomy":"issue","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/niemanstoryboard.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/issue?post=2513"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}