Recovery at Raven Chute
By Buzz Williams
http://www.chattoogariver.org/Articles/1999SF/Recovery.html
She drowned in the Chattooga River at Raven Chute Rapid on Memorial Day 1999. Rachel Mae Trois was four days away from her 17th birthday when she slipped while wading above the rapid, and was swept down by the current into a chute in the heart of the torrent. The most likely scenario is that she was slammed by the river into a "strainer," a piece of wood lodged in the rocks in heavy current, and pinned against it by the rushing river, helpless to reach the surface. She drowned in a matter of minutes.
Rachel was the 35th death on the Chattooga River since the Forest Service began keeping records, which date back to 1970. Soon, I would know more about Rachel than any of the other victims who were on the Forest Service’s list, with the possible exception of two fellow river guides. I learned from the L. A. Times that she wore a bright orange dress to her high school prom two days before the accident. Many friends in the little town of Leesport, Pennsylvania, where Rachel grew up, sent e-mail messages telling us about her and how much she was loved. They told us about Rachel’s exploits as a star athlete, as catcher on the Schuykill Valley girls softball team and on the high school field hockey team.
They also let us know that they held us, the Chattooga River Watershed Coalition, and the Forest Service responsible for delaying the recovery of her body. One message read, "Let them retrieve their daughter from the icy grave you have her in now." I strained my eyes while staring at a grainy fax of her photograph in a local newspaper, trying to see what she looked like. When I finally saw a good picture of Rachel, it was easy to understand the affection that so many people felt for the attractive young woman with the effervescent smile. But it was the unlimited love of a mother and father, driven by an intense campaign to bring the body of their daughter home, which triggered a chain of events resulting in the largest and most controversial search and rescue/recovery operation in the history of the Chattooga River watershed. In itself, this obsession was only natural for parents; yet, it precipitated bureaucratic decisions and misguided political intervention that caused the huge controversy.
Approximately thirty minutes after Rachel disappeared at Raven Chute, Tom Cromartie, an intern with the Chattooga River Watershed Coalition (CRWC) arrived at the scene. Tom likes to paddle in the evening, when most paddlers are already through for the day. He said that when he paddled up at around 6:45pm, two young men were running up the shore yelling, "There’s a girl down there!" These young men were Chuck Yoder and his brother. Chuck was Rachel’s boyfriend, a seaman with the U. S. Navy stationed at Charleston, South Carolina. The three of them, along with the Yoder boys’ parents and a couple friends, had hiked to Raven Chute Rapid to play in the river and see the 120 foot precipice called Raven’s Rock, which is 200 yards downstream of the rapid on the South Carolina side.
Raven’s Rock is a striking feature of the lower section of the Chattooga below the highway 76 bridge. Here, the Wild and Scenic River Corridor combined with the surrounding national forest lands in South Carolina and Georgia comprise enough acreage of remote land to be considered as a stand-alone wilderness area. On the South Carolina side, it was once known as the Long Creek Roadless Area. That was before the Forest Service hacked it up with a system of logging roads to get to the timber, back in the 1980’s. The ancient bedrock that forms Raven Chute is typical of the whole watershed. The gray, granite gneiss is patterned with parallel rippling streaks formed during a metamorphosis driven by tremendous heating, melting and cooling of the rock during multiple geologic events over millions of years. Many rocks are worn smooth, polished by eons of current to accent the various shades of gray and white streaks. Some rocks are undercut—overhanging and facing the current—and riddled with "potholes" drilled out over time by sand-laden waters. These potholes are of various sizes, with some tunneling completely through solid bedrock. It is these undercut rocks and potholes that make the Chattooga so dangerous.
Water level is also a big factor. The Chattooga is not impounded above Lake Tugaloo, and therefore its water level fluctuates with rainfall. Consequently, the Chattooga can change from a raging, flooded river to a creek-like mountain stream within a few weeks. It is the lower to medium water levels where most accidents occur since the undercuts, strainers and potholes lie close to the surface beneath the deceptively strong current. Often we hear the uninitiated say, "It doesn’t really look that dangerous." The water level on Memorial Day was at one of those low/medium levels that tempt disaster.
The next day, which was a Sunday, the water level was still too high to reach into where Rachel’s body was believed to be trapped. By then, the "Swift Water Rescue Team" had been convened to attempt a recovery. This team was formed under the auspices of a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) drawn up by the Forest Service. The group consisted of Rabun and Oconee County Rescue Squads, Sheriff’s Departments, coroners, the Forest Service and the commercial outfitters on the Chattooga. Forest Service guidelines require the agency to adhere to its Forest Plan, which clearly abrogates the ultimate authority for search and rescue to the local authorities. Initially,the Swift Water Rescue Team tried to locate the body using Search and Rescue Dog Teams (SARDOG). These dogs are trained to detect airborne scents, and were taken as close as possible to the base of the rapid in a raft. The strong reaction from the dogs was interpreted to indicate that Rachel’s body was lodged in the rapid.
The following day, a Tyrolean system was constructed across the river. This consisted of a cable stretched between two trees, from which a Forest Service River Ranger was lowered in a harness close to the suspected entrapment spot. From this position, he used a long aluminum pole to probe underwater. Later that day, rescuers used two pieces of plywood to attempt to divert some of the current away from the entrapment area. Both efforts failed to produce results. The following Saturday, an underwater camera mounted on the end of the pole was used from the front of a raft to scan the rapid. In the images obtained from this camera work, rescuers believed they saw the image of a body lodged in the center of the rapid about eight feet below the surface, in heavy current.
After these recovery efforts, the Swift Water Rescue Team made a pivotal decision to abandon any further attempts to recover Rachel’s body. The Trois family was informed that the rescuers had exhausted all means to recover her body. It seemed that Raven’s Rock Rapid would be Rachel’s final resting place. The Trois family returned to Pennsylvania, but speculation continued about where Rachel’s body was and if there were any unexplored methods of recovery. Some felt that an incident a few years ago at a rapid called Left Crack was a factor in the decision to abandon recovery efforts. Left Crack is located at the third rapid in the Five Falls area of Section Four, and is a death trap at medium water levels. Swimmers in Corkscrew rapid, which is immediately upstream, risk being swept over the five foot falls and lodged in an hour glass shaped formation of rocks at the base of the falls, where the body is jammed tighter and tighter beneath the pummeling water. In the incident cited above, the victim was wedged so tightly that when rescuers tugged on the ropes attached to his body, it was pulled apart.
One eye witness was so moved by the horrible scene that afterwards, he joined with the victim’s family in an unrelenting campaign to force the Forest Service to alter Left Crack by dropping a concrete plug into the rapid to prevent future drownings. This proposal caused another huge controversy. Finally, the Forest Service sent out a scoping letter asking for public opinion on the matter. Overwhelmingly, the public opposed such measures. Their reasoning was that any action to alter the river would set a precedent leading to never-ending attempts to make the Chattooga "safe." But the list of dangerous spots was essentially endless, including well known rapids such as Bull Sluice, Woodall Shoals and Sock-em-Dog—all were places where one could argue that bedrock alteration might prevent future deaths.
The Left Crack question had been put to rest by public opinion, but there was also another factor. In 1989, after the proposal to plug Left Crack, the Office of General Counsel ruled that alteration of bedrock in the Chattooga River would be a violation of the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. This Act mandates that these wild places must be left unaltered by the hand of mankind, and managed for an experience to include challenge, risk and adventure. Joe Trois went back to Pennsylvania, but could not let go of his fervent desire to bring his daughter’s body home to rest. He searched on the Internet for resources to help, and found a company located in New Jersey called "Portadam." The company representative offered his services for setting up a portable dam to divert the Chattooga, to facilitate recovery efforts. This was what Rachel’s father needed to begin a campaign to revive recovery operations.
Joe contacted his congressman, Representative Holden from Pennsylvania, who in turn contacted Senator Strom Thurmond of South Carolina. Senator Thurmond made a strong request on behalf of the Trois family that the Forest Service issue a permit to Portadam for installing a diversion device on the Chattooga. I learned of these plans to bring in a portable dam on Tuesday June 22nd, and immediately met with the Forest Service District Ranger in South Carolina to find out the status of the recovery efforts. This was not something I wanted to get involved with, as in my former professions as a river guide and a Forest Service River Ranger, I had had my fill of search and recovery operations. As Executive Director of CRWC, it was not my business, unless it involved violations of the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act and other conservation issues. Soon,my fears about this operation were realized. The contract with Portadam included a clause allowing the use of a jackhammer to drill holes in the river bedrock, to secure the dam. The Ranger assured me that this would only be used as a last resort. I protested on the spot. Furthermore, the diagram for the dam seemed suspect, as it was attempting to divert the whole river counter to its natural flow. However, I thought that the dam was worth a try, but only if it could be installed with more benign methods to anchor the dam’s frame, such as sandbags and devices often used by rock climbers called chocks and slings.
I had anticipated that this plan would use a more reasonable approach; however, I learned later that the issues got very polarized during a planning meeting held by the Swift Water Rescue Team the night before. Here, a shouting match between some individuals had ensued over the use of the Portadam. Back in the CRWC office on Wednesday, telephone lines were jammed by calls from people concerned about the issue of bringing in a jackhammer to drill holes in the bedrock of the Chattooga River. We decided to hold a public meeting on June 24th to air the facts. Here, the crowd of mostly river guides was adamantly opposed to the decision to permit Portadam. I explained our position that the CRWC was not opposed to the device per se; however, we were quite concerned about the precedent of permitting bedrock alteration. There were those who questioned our decision not to pursue litigation to stop the action by obtaining a temporary restraining order from a federal judge. I explained that this would have been virtually impossible, and that our most viable strategy was to work with the rescuers and offer assistance in setting up a diversion that would safely and effectively accomplish the task without drilling holes in the bedrock.
Early the next morning, I hiked to the river by way of an old logging road on the South Carolina side. Immediately upon arriving at Raven Chute, I was met by four river guides who told me that Portadam was running the show, and that the jackhammer was being brought down to the river. When asked if Portadam had considered other methods of anchoring the dam, they told me the rescue officials estimated there would be about 40 holes drilled to secure the device. Meanwhile, it was raining with no sign of clearing, and the water was rising. I borrowed a life jacket and swam across the river, where I met two old friends assisting the Swift Water Rescue Team whom I had worked with as a river guide. They were glad to see me, and we exchanged handshakes. However, I was there to protest the violation of the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act, and when I stated this to the nearest Forest Service Ranger, my friends turned away. They were a part of the operation, and did not want to break ranks. Later, I was told that turning over control of the recovery operation to Portadam was the biggest mistake made that day.
The rain kept falling, and the jackhammer drilled more and more holes. The coffer-dam was assembled. When the fabric sheeting was rolled down over the frame to make the dam, we saw the water level drop behind the dam. However, this was a short-term effect, for soon the river rose behind the dam and breached over it in several places. The dam had failed and the river was rising. Nevertheless, a quick search ensued in the middle of the rapid for about 30 minutes. A raft was hauled upstream with a load line to a spot directly below the entrapment area, where rescue workers were able to probe for the body, but to no avail. The dam breached because it was set up to attempt diverting the whole river towards the Georgia side, against its natural flow.
When the dam failed, only a few hours were left to remove the structure from the water. With a rising river, there were several anxious moments as rescue workers struggled to keep from being swept toward the rapid. There was also the ever-present danger of the whole thing washing into the rapid, creating a steel strainer. Had it not been for the courageous rescuers who worked diligently to take the dam apart, disaster surely would have resulted. Even the greenest river guide in training knows the uncertainty and threat of a rising river. One of the first things taught about rescue and recovery operations is to never endanger the lives of rescuers. Another principle in emergency situations is that the victim’s family or acquaintances are always comforted and given a role in the rescue, but under no circumstances are they involved in decision-making. The emotional state of family members in such trying times is often clouded by the stress. In the case of the Portadam recovery attempt, all of these rules were violated.
As I watched that rainy day at Raven Chute, I talked to some of the people I used to work with in search and rescue operations. Through these conversations, it became clear what caused this rescue to spin out of control. One of them said, "Look Buzz, when Strom says we should go, we go." In this case, the father of the victim enlisted the help of his congressman, who called Strom Thurmond, who used his influence to turn Portadam loose. In the process, the basic tenets of search and rescue were obscured. In the aftermath, most people thought the recovery question was settled, and the river was going up and down like a yo-yo from occasional thunderstorms. While this weather pattern persisted, there was no doubt in the minds of reasonable people that recovery operations had to wait for the river to drop. However, the politicians did not view this scenario as an option.
Almost a month had passed since Rachel drowned. Now, the Forest Service and members of the Swift Water Rescue Team were in Washington trying to explain to Representative Holden and Senator Thurmond why further attempts to recover Rachel Trois’ body were on hold. Senator Thurmond refused to yield; his position was that recovery attempts should press forward. Within days of the Portadam attempt, the operation had attracted media from all over the country including inquiries from CBS Evening News, the Today Show and the L. A. Times. We even had one call from 60 Minutes in Australia. Federal and state agencies were consulted including the FBI, the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology, the National Guard, Navy Seals and the Army Corp of Engineers. Then, we learned that Portadam had written a letter to Mr. Trois stating that another attempted could be accomplished with a higher dam, and possibly even two dams.
On July 6th, the CRWC called another public meeting in Long Creek, South Carolina. This time, media came from everywhere. Two local television stations showed up with remote broadcasting vans, and there was also extensive coverage from radio and print media. Approximately 80 people from South Carolina and Georgia attended the meeting. The Forest Service sent representatives to explain their position, and Senator Thurmond faxed a letter stating his position. The Forest Service District Ranger stated that there should be no further attempts at recovery, until the water dropped. Senator Thurmond’s letter was the shocker, where he stated, "If in fact we determine that this river is such a threat, I would be willing to introduce legislation to restrict access, particularly commercial rafting, thereby preventing additional tragedies." Most people held the opinion that the letter was an attempt by the Senator to flex his political muscle, under the false impression that the CRWC was connected to the outfitting and guiding industry. Still, it made no sense because the outfitters on the Chattooga River are some of the safest in the country; most deaths on the Chattooga have been from the private sector.
Another irony was that while Thurmond was threatening to close off access, some in the search and rescue units were pushing for more access into remote places. A road had already been bulldozed inside of the Wild and Scenic river corridor in Georgia for the recovery attempts. In the interim until the water dropped, several proposals were made for alternative methods of extraction. One from the South Carolina Forestry Commission proposed to divert the river through large pipes around the rapid. The CRWC weighed in with an offer of assistance, and proposed to install a smaller diversion immediately above the extraction spot, thus allowing the bulk of the river to flow around the area. We proposed that this device could be anchored with sandbags, and by utilizing natural rock features. Meanwhile, local rescue squad members generated a list of questions for Portadam. This letter included such statements as "Many are concerned that the dam attempted to divert the water in the opposite direction of the natural flow of the river," and "Things did not go as they were agreed, and as planned at the Monday night meeting."
On July 13th, the Chattooga surged to 1.9 feet, which normally is considered to be on the cusp of high water. On July 14th the L. A. Times reported, "USFS officials have not decided whether to construct another dam or wait until the water level falls naturally." By Sunday the 18th, the water had dropped to a low enough level to allow more underwater camera work from a raft. I joined the rescuers in the search. Extensive camera work was done to locate the body both from the closest rocks above the chute, and from a raft. It was during this exploration at Raven Chute that a diver with the Oconee County rescue squad made a heroic attempt to swim upstream into the base of the rapid. Here, he found a bone fragment. The Oconee County Coroner determined from visual inspection that the bone was from an animal.
This point in the recovery operations was the first time I met Joe Trois, and his wife Kim. When I offered my condolences, both parents stood stone-faced with no reply. I tried to put this out of my mind in working with the rescue teams. By the end of the day, Joe and I were at least working together coiling belay ropes. There seemed to be a subtle change in the attitude of all those involved with the recovery efforts that day. People were beginning to unite behind the common goal of doing the best we could to get Rachel out of the river. Once I became a part of the effort, I was more convinced than ever that this mission could be accomplished without the heavy-handed and destructive machinery used in the previous attempt. The key would be to convince Joe that we needed to implement the most effective plan, executed by a united effort. In effect, this would neutralize the politicians who were running the show, and who didn’t understand appropriate search and rescue methods. That night, I was invited by the Forest Service to a planning meeting. Together with the Swift Water Rescue Team, we watched the underwater video taken at Raven Chute within days of the accident. Many rescuers believed this video contained images of Rachel trapped in the rapid about eight feet under the current. We compared this to the images taken on July 18th. This was my first opportunity to see the evidence used to determine where Rachael was in the rapid. As the image was described, I began to see the ear and hair believed to be Rachel’s head. Later, I wondered if this was really Rachel. Was the hair just moss flowing in the current? However, the latest images contained no evidence of Rachel’s body. On July 19th, officials issued a press release stating that they believed the body was not in Raven Chute anymore. Now, officials would focus the search downstream of the rapid utilizing dive teams from the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources, and Search and Rescue Dog teams. When these teams turned up no evidence downstream, emphasis began to shift back to Raven Chute. The next week was filled with activities in anticipation of the next move. Mr. Trois was extremely frustrated. He was about to make something happen, and he had powerful allies. On Tuesday July 20th, rescue officials, congressional delegation staffers, the Forest Service and the Trois family met at the rapid to weigh options. On Wednesday, I joined a group of rescuers to conduct additional camera work. The water had dropped, and we could wade fairly close to chute at the center of the rapid. Working from a raft anchored at the top of the rapid, we probed several unexplored places a little further up in the heart of the falls. We probed deep into the rapid, but there was still one spot we couldn’t reach. That night, the Swift Water Rescue Team began reviewing proposals from Portadam and others for another attempt to divert the river. The following day we met representatives with the Strom Thurmond Institute at Raven Chute. Upon a request from the CRWC, the Institute agreed to donate time and equipment to survey and map the river bedrock, to assist in future rescue attempts. Above and in the rapid, high tech laser survey equipment was used to shoot readings on a survey pole positioned on 475 sample points throughout the river bedrock. The data was digitized to create a three dimensional image of the area. This survey work was very useful in learning where natural anchor points existed. On Friday, the Forest Service issued their decision granting Portadam a permit for another attempt to divert the Chattooga at Raven Chute. The statement read, "Because the Swift Water Rescue Team believes this area is the most highly probable area for the body location, and because the area cannot be accessed with the underwater camera and cannot be safely accessed by divers, some type of diversion structure is needed to conduct a thorough search of the rapid." Included in the permit was a clause that gave us the opportunity we had been waiting for: "Holes in the bedrock will only be drilled if there is no other safe alternative to anchor the steel Portadam frames. Back braces and sandbags will be considered before any holes are drilled. Buzz Williams, Executive Director, CRWC will work with Portadam Inc. representatives to consider alternative methods of anchoring the Portadam structure. However, the Portadam, Inc. representatives will make the decision regarding which device will ensure the stability of the structure, and therefore the safety of the recovery team." This was the opening we needed. By the weekend, I had consulted with Portadam about the natural anchor points to be considered. We also secured approximately 5,000 sandbags from the Army Corps of Engineers. It looked like the river would drop to within range of another attempt in a matter of days. On Saturday, I met with two Rabun County Rescue Squad members who had arranged to meet Chuck Yoder at the river, to interview him again about the point where Rachel had last been seem. Chuck confirmed that point to be in the area we suspected. By Monday, it was increasingly clear that an attempt would probably occur on Wednesday. The weather looked pretty good, and everyone was working well together and totally focused on the goal. On Tuesday, Tom and another CRWC intern, Jesse Steele, carried in a few hundred sandbags and we experimented with a small diversion structure. It worked well, and I had to hold Jesse back. If it had been up to him, we would have constructed a complete diversion that day.
The recovery attempt was set for Wednesday, July 28th. We planned to sleep on a beach at the river on Tuesday night, not wanting to get caught up in the melee of media and rescue workers at the access points. There was a full moon, and Jesse had gone back to Southeastern Expeditions to borrow a raft to bring down a huge bundle of sandbags. Alone, I sat at Raven Chute, waiting on Jesse and studying the rapid. I was sure we could divert the river if we worked with it. The water was low now, and it was easy to wade out to just above the drop-off into the rapid. As I waded, I could feel little potholes where we could anchor back brace poles for the dam frame. Tom woke me in the predawn darkness. We were prepared for the worst, but were ready to make our best effort. We hiked upstream to the rapid, and were the first to arrive. Soon, I saw a group of rescuers coming down the trail to the head of a skyline cable, which had been set up to transport the steel frames of the Portadam across to a drop point in the middle of the river.
On the Georgia side, the last section of the steep trail leading to the river was worn to bare earth. It would have been so much easier to have dropped the frames in with a helicopter and long line, but this expense wasn’t in the Forest Service budget. I asked if anyone knew Bill Streit with the Portadam company. Someone pointed to a stocky, medium height man with dark hair. He was talking to a Forest Service Ranger, who was meticulously going over a list of materials. I introduced myself and we descended the hand line down the steep section of the trail, and out into the open by the river. Bill was easy to work with, and we waded out into the river above the rapid to decide where to put the steel frames that would bear the weight of the Chattooga. Everyone worked together to place the frames in a horseshoe fashion, open end downstream, directly above the slot in the middle of the rapid. The triangular frames were seated with their tail ends jammed against protruding rocks. Back brace poles were anchored in the small potholes behind the frames. Sandbags were used to level the river bottom so the frames would be evenly seated, and easier to bolt together. Other sandbags were used to buttress the ends of the system, and to plug trough-like irregularities running under the frames. This would stop additional current from flowing under the frames.
About midmorning, someone said in a low voice over my shoulder, "I think the divers are finding something below." The dive teams had been sent in to search the eddies below the rapid before we completed the dam. This was because when we rolled the vinyl sheeting down over the dam frame to seal off the current, it would cause some turbidity and lower visibility in the water. Within an hour, bones presumed to be Rachel’s remains were found in an eddy 15 yards downstream of the rapid. The Forest Service requested that the media turn off their cameras. We stopped working and silently watched as the divers completed their search. I tried not to look at the sloping rock under the hemlock bough where Joe and Kim lay holding each other, silently weeping.
The decision was made to finish installing the diversion structure, to determine if any more remains were in the rapid. When we rolled the sheeting down, the system held firm with no sign of weakness. We all peered over the top of the dam to see an almost eerie sight below. What had once been a rapid cascading through a deep trough was now exposed bedrock, covered with a carpet of lush green moss-like aquatic plants that were teaming with the larvae of mayflies, midges and stoneflies. On the rocks barren of vegetation were combs of egg cases cemented in clusters of various geometric patterns. The juxtaposition of the strange beauty behind the dam against the horrible scene of the body bag on the rocks below was almost more than the senses could bear. I crawled around the end of the dam on the Georgia side, where the safety officer was standing alone staring into the pools of still water behind the dam. "Is it safe?" I asked, and he nodded in approval.
No one had gone into the area behind the dam. Some water was still flowing into the slot of the rock trough. Wedged across this chute was a short, thick piece of driftwood about 5 inches in diameter. Wrapped tightly around the driftwood was what appeared to be a bright green and blue print item of clothing. By that time, several others had slowly made their way into the area behind the dam. I used my river knife to cut the cloth from the strainer. We decided to remove the strainer from the undercut rock. I tied a bowline with a half hitch around the wood, and threw the rope to Jesse who, along with several others, pulled the end of the strainer free. It fell from the loop and into the pool below. It was hard to believe, but the whole ordeal was coming to a close. I stayed until the last piece of the dam frame was out of the river. I waved goodbye to Joe as he was climbing up the hand line, but his eyes were downcast. I knew the media was waiting at the top of the trail. I had nothing to say. Quietly, I slipped away and swam down stream to the hidden trail around the bend. Rachel went home with Joe and Kim. Yet, the questions about what sideboards should be articulated by the Forest Service to guide future search and rescue operations remain largely unanswered. The rescue squads spent thousands of hours and almost $200,000, bankrupting their operating funds.
The next week, I flew to Washington and met with Jim Furnish, Deputy Chief for the National Forest system. Jim told me he intended to work with the Regional Forester to draft better guidelines for search and rescue operations. He also agreed to consider a proposal I made, for funding search and rescue through designating a portion of the "special use" permit fees from outfitting and guiding operations on the Chattooga for that purpose. In the end, there were some good things to point out. First, the cooperation was extraordinary between the Swift Water Rescue Team, the CRWC and other volunteers from the private sector. The Forest Service stepped up and did a good job of coordinating operations. On the negative side, Senator Thurmond and others who pushed too hard without knowing critical facts were detrimental to the recovery effort. Some of the media concentrated too much on the "controversy," and not enough on the human element of cooperation between people with opposing views in a time of tragedy. The final chapter in this story is yet to be written. People who have the courage and commitment to speak out for change will write that chapter.
