The Last Mountain Man

Thomas Curwen: Frost glistens on the meadow grass. The sun has yet to crest Church Creek Divide, and on his last day in the cabin, Jack English isn't about to break from routine. He swings his legs out of the bunk.

"Good morning," he says quietly to Mary. Her ashes are in a small box on the narrow shelf at the head of the bed.

She's been gone 12 years. He takes her wherever he goes, but in this far-away valley they shared and in this home they built, he feels closest to her.

He tries to pull on his boots. The swelling in his feet from the gout has gone down, but his fingers have a hard time keeping a grip. Old age-itis, he calls it, as if being 94 is a condition in and of itself.

"Dennis, I'm ge…