Out of Captivity : Surviving 1,967 Days in the Colombian Jungle

Ruin and Recovery 249heartfelt and touching. She loved him so much and couldn’t wait to seehim again. When she was through, I ran over everything in my mind.Our agreement was that we should wait until the morning to pass themessage along, but this was like Christmas morning and I couldn’twait. I crawled next to Keith’s bed and shook his shoulder to wake him.The jungle quieted, almost as if it wanted to hear what Lauren had tosay. I whispered in his ear everything that I could remember of themessage.When I was through, Keith clasped his hand around the back of myneck and whispered, “Thank you, bro.”My eyes were brimming with tears. I was so happy for Keith andso happy that I’d been able to help bring him that gift. I knew thatLauren’s message was special. Keith had always said that if there wasanyone he could count on to come through for him, it was she. I alsoknew that the last message Keith had gotten was during our first weeksat Camp Caribe. The hit-and-miss nature of getting the messages aside,more than a year without any contact was a long time no matter howyou looked at it.For days after that, Keith’s pleasure was visible. Every time he thoughtof Lauren’s message, it was as if he’d gotten a sudden jolt of energythroughout his system. Keith had what he referred to as his library ofmemories and he put that one on a prominent, easy-to-access shelf.Every day he would walk into that library and select a pleasant place,person, or event to revisit—from his childhood, from his life with hiskids, moments with his siblings and parents. I got the feeling that Lauren’smessage was one he checked out regularly.The same was true of me. I was deeply touched by Lauren’s message,and knowing that it had come to one of the three of us was thesame as if it had been for me. The fact that I’d done something tohelp my friend was a powerful thing. I returned to those moments andthose sensations often.Whether by plan or coincidence, at times it seemed as if the FARC