Bruce Kelly, 70, volunteered to help his granddaughter’s high school team.
He stood on the predawn mountain and radioed to the refreshment station ahead the numbers of runners passing him. When the wind flipped over a runner’s ID placard, Bruce called, “What’s your number?”
He felt a tug on his shirt about the time his feet and butt agreed they were numb.
A girl passed him a note, “Grandma said you wanted her number.”