As hours turned into days, time was running out for a young man buried alive by his abductors.
When the float plane smashed into rocks, windows shattering and flames blasting through the cabin, survival seemed nigh impossible.
The earth quaked and then a ripple of kindness spread thousands of kilometres, forever uniting two far-flung communities.
I hadn’t been born yet when my father killed her. But she’s alive in my mind.
For hours, no-one knew that Arick Baker had fallen into a 58°C grain bin and was slowly being squeezed to death.
