In reply to Mick Ryan:
In its first century as a national park, Yosemite has seen 15 people killed by rock falls. Given the more than 3 million visitors each year to the valley, the park has a good safety record, said Kristi Kapetan, the assistant U.S. attorney defending the park in the Terbush suit.
If the Terbush family prevails, it could prompt park officials to prohibit rock climbing and other dangerous sports, she said.
"I feel bad for the parents," Kapetan said. "But this would be like blaming Mother Nature. Like suing for an earthquake. We didn't do anything to cause a spontaneous rock fall."
'Inherently Dangerous'
Many of Yosemite's climbing regulars, often at odds with rangers, find common ground with park officials this time.
Injury and death in climbing rarely prompt lawsuits. What happens on the big wall stays on the big wall. Terbush assumed the risk, they say, simply by strapping on his belay harness and grabbing that rope.
Over at Camp 4, the simple collection of fire rings and picnic tables that serves as the crossroads of the valley's climbing community, a few climbers recently shared such sentiments.
Like Terbush, they are young and exude endless energy. Lean as greyhounds, they look as if they could conquer anything.
"Everyone knows the sport is just inherently dangerous," said Miles Stewart, 25, of Reno as he prepared a string of nuts and cams for an afternoon climb.
"Americans are sue-happy," added his buddy, Laine Christmen, 24. "If it's equipment failure, manufacturing negligence, then fine. But not a rock fall. It's part of the sport. Wind and water take their toll."
Diego Avelar, visiting Yosemite from Jalisco, Mexico, said climbers rejoice in the sense of freedom on the rock, the power to make what they want of life.
"If they decide to take that risk, it should be without looking back," said Avelar, 21. "A climber's father should know that."
"It's a shame for the kid who died, " added his friend, 22-year-old Roberto Larios. "But it's wrong to find someone to blame. Otherwise you're suing nature."
Jim Terbush has heard such comments, has seen them on climber's websites. He winces a bit but offers a counterpoint.
He considers Yosemite a temple. He's not out to kill climbing in the valley. He doesn't want money. He simply wants to make climbing safer.
The family has tried to do that in many ways, including sponsoring a climbing seminar in Gunnison for prospective mountain guides that teaches the principles of leadership and service in a dangerous sport.
Given previous rock slides below Glacier Point, Jim Terbush questions, why not post a flier on Camp 4 so newcomers knew? Geologists can rate the stability of cliffs above roads. Why not climbing routes in Yosemite?
He and his wife may not win in court, Jim Terbush realizes. In fact, the legal odds seem stacked against them. But it will close a chapter in their lives.
"There was still this outstanding question," Jim Terbush said. "I felt if I didn't chase it to the ground, for the rest of my life I'd be wondering."
Because their son will forever be up there on the mountain. And they'll never let go.