Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival By Norman Ollestad

By: Julian Chavez | August 20, 2009 | Non Fiction

Crazy for the Storm: A Memoir of Survival By Norman Ollestad

Growing up on free-spirited Topanga Beach during the ’70s, Norman Ollestad was catching waves with his dad while still in diapers and tackling double black diamonds by the age of 4. While most kids were watching TV and hanging out in the neighborhood, Ollestad and his father were running from the federales in Mexico, careening down icing runs in the Sierra Nevadas and practicing ice hockey at the break of dawn. His father, charismatic, adventurous and demanding, pushed his son to the limit every day and taught him to always conquer his fears. Because of this, his father, also named Norman, had embedded in him the strength and spirit to make it through an unbelievable tragedy. Ollestad tells his harrowing tale of how, at 11 years old, he managed to make it down an 8,600-foot mountain in the middle of a blizzard after his chartered plane smashed into Ontario Peak killing his father and his girlfriend Sandra. Interweaving chapters of his survival with his life up to the moment of the crash, Ollestad explores his relationship with his father and how it prepared him unknowingly for that fateful day.

A must-read for surfers, skiers, adventure seekers and fathers alike, this story will transport you to great waves, powdery slopes and an unimaginable adventure down a mountain after a devastating plane crash. Part coming-of-age story, part adventure thriller, Crazy for the Storm examines how with great danger, comes great reward and to always seek beauty amongst the chaos. Told in simple and to-the-point prose, Ollestad’s life up to the crash is just as interesting as his death-defying trip down the mountain. An absolute page-turner that is both tragic and beautiful, it contains lessons for us all, and no other book has embodied the love between a father and son as much as Crazy for the Storm.

After all of these years, what motivated you to write this memoir and share your story?

Becoming a father opened up my eyes again to the life I lived with my father. I started doing the same things with my son that my father did with me. Feeling all that passion streaming through my body brought me closer to what my father was feeling and thinking when I was a boy. Gradually, I was able to see both sides of the story — my side as a boy and my father’s side. Eventually, I had a complete picture from which to draw.

Your father, an ex-FBI agent, seemed like a different type from the typical Topanga Beach crowd. What do you think drew him to that lifestyle and place?

My father was different, more naïve, even innocent than the typical Topanga Beach dweller. He also didn’t care that he was different. He was drawn, on some level, to Topanga Beach. Maybe it was the lifestyle of waking up to the sound of waves and paddling out before having to go grind it out at work. I think he really enjoyed living in varied worlds — perhaps it made life more interesting. Topanga was a place where he could really let go. It was like living on vacation. It made the more serious, mundane parts of life easier to cope with; he knew he was always coming home at the end of the day to life on Topanga Beach.
How did you cope with loosing your father at such a young age? Is there a silver lining to facing mortality as a young man?

Being young may have helped me cope. I was closer to my primordial self, less conditioned by the fear of death we seem to get inundated by as we live longer and longer. My father’s zest for life, his optimism, his ability to reframe a situation — that state of mind was ingrained in me. That’s the biggest reason I was able to slowly find my way out of the grief.

What advice would you give to a young father raising a son?

Find it in yourself to exert as much devotion to your child, male or female, as possible. If they feel your genuine interest in them, then they’ll build a well of self-confidence that will come in very handy throughout their lives.

What is the best way to expose your son to your passions without imposing them on him and/or pushing him too hard?

It’s an imperfect art. You need to expose your kids to the things you love, the things that give you pleasure and joy, but you need to stop yourself from letting the passion turn into a kind of overzealousness. Don’t be afraid to make some mistakes. Both child and parent learn a lot from mistakes.
Have you been back to the beach in Mexico where you made it out of your first tube? (If not, do you plan on taking your son there?)

Not that exact spot. I think it is probably a “mysto” spot, only breaking when a hurricane is in just the right position. That’s sort of why I will always hold that day as the best session I ever had — even better than some off-the-charts Indo days I’ve had over the years.

What has been the biggest adventure you and your son have experienced together so far?

Last ski season, we often slipped into the trees looking for powder, and there was always a sense of adventure; even though it was small by some standards, it was big for us. And going to Panama with Noah, we surfed a couple reefs pretty far offshore, just the two of us, getting separated out there for a few minutes, ending up on the beach in the middle of nowhere. That was fun.
You were exposed to that thin line between life and death at a very young age. How has that experience affected the man you are today?

I respect Mother Nature, and every time I forget to, she reminds me.

How would you like to be remembered by your son?

A devoted father, who opened up a lot of beautiful things in this world for him.

Your father taught you that true bliss is often a close bedfellow with extreme danger. Do you think that his continual quest for “that moment,” despite the consequences, still exists in you today?

Yes. I believe that most good things — our truest moments, our brightest revelations and pockets of bliss — come when we’ve struggled through adversity, some storm, and found our way to the other side or even to its very center. I’m most comfortable and at peace in the middle of a blizzard, skiing powder in the trees or surfing waves in the middle of nowhere with a buddy. It all comes from a storm. No storm — no powder, no waves, no breakthrough.

http://www.crazyforthestorm.com