A Cold Case

Joe(a pseudonym) and his buddies Tim and Dan (also pseudonyms) were good old boys from Eastern Washington, a part of the state that gets very cold and thick with snow in winter.

The Puget Sound and the waters before and beyond it lie in Western Washington where I live. The folks in Eastern Washington refer to Western Washington as "the coast."
The East is divided from the West by a range of mountains called the Cascades.
Once you cross the Cascades, you enter another geographic arena altogether... from the wooded descent through the mountains, across the forested highways alongside rivers, the landscapes are like moonscapes as the terrain shifts to desert expanses reminiscent of the the Southwest U.S.. Then onward, ever onward... to the last big city in the east. Spokane.

Joe lived in a small town in Eastern Washington state with his wife. His kids in their twenties, had moved away from home to Spokane. It was just Joe and the missus... and his good buddies Tim and Dan and their wives. They all grew up together, they were all farmers, they all got together during the long winter nights, had dinner, drinks, told stories.

It was on one of those cold weekend winter afternoons, when the guys decided to go snowmobiling after a few rounds Jack Daniel's at Joe's house.
They set off about 2:30. A storm set in and Joe got separated from his two friends.

Darkness set in. Joe's friends searched for him, but lost Joe's tracks due to the heavy snowfall. With snowmobile fuel tanks near empty and the winds whipping to blizzard levels, Joe's friends had no choice but to return home and call for rescue. Everyone sat vigil in Joe's wife's home until dawn broke and the search could begin in earnest.

Joe's nude dead body was found within 4 hours He was frozen to death. He took off all his clothes and decided to go sit in the water of a river like he was taking a bath. He was found seated upright, his back against the rocks, frozen. His clothes were neatly stacked nearby. A pint of Jack Daniels, still a quarter full was on the rock beside Joe.

The corner ruled it an accidental death.
I'm sure if there were a checkmark for stupid, the cornor would have checked that too.

"The coroner told me Joe was so drunk that night, he probably thought he was getting into our hot tub" Joe's wife told me.
"How old was he?" I asked her.
"46" she said. "He still partied like a college boy."
I wondered silently if even had his GED.

Joe didn't tell his wife he let his life insurance lapse. She found out the hard way.
There was a second mortgage on their house...
and since Joe was the only who worked, the wife lost it all.
I spoke to Joe's wife at her sister's house, where she had taken up residence while figuring out what to do next. Her bankruptcy just settled, she'd lost everything... her husband, her home, her independence because of another needless alcohol-related (on induced) death.

She tried to file suit against the other snow mobilers. No attorney would take the case.
She tried to find someone to sue the snow mobile manufacturer. That too was a no go among the attorneys she consulted.
Ultimately, she had to accept the fact that her husband not only contributed to his own death... he caused it.
But a part of her still resisted.
She want to blame someone, anyone, for the bad choice her husband made. She asked me if I, as a P.I., could help.

I reviewed her notes, the police reports, letters from attorneys.
I came to the same conclusion they did and told her.
"The party at fault here is your husband," I said.
"I should've stopped him" she replied.
"Would he have listened?" I asked.
"No" she responded
"That's my point," I said, as I put on my coat, grabbed my car keys, handed her the case file and told her I was so sorry for her loss and the fact I couldn't help her further.
As I walked out her sister's front door into that snowy evening and headed west towards the mountains that led to Seattle, I thought... what a waste of a life.
Joe partied himself to death... and destroyed his whole family in the process.

Drinking destroys countless lives, yet countless people find it integral to their happiness, their concept of having a good time.
Fortunately... the only person who died that night was Joe.
It could have been much worse had Joe climbed into his F350 instead of his snowmobile.