Around 1970, when I was a child, my father was taking us for a cross country trip and we stopped to camp overnight near Dryden Ontario. It is so far from everything and is in the heart of blackfly country. I know it was near Dryden because earlier that day I had stepped on a broken beer bottle that some one had tossed into a lake and I shredded my foot on it. The nearest hospital was an hour away in Dryden. That night, I was laying awake well past the time I should be sleeping and my parents were listening to the CBC which was probably all you could get out there for radio. Back in those days, they still put on radio plays and they were listening to this spooky story about a man who was being pursued by the wind, which was intelligent and trying to kill him. Imagine being a kid, listening to this story alone in the dark, in the northern Canadian wilderness. I had chills up and down my spine. Then my parents went to bed and shut the radio off before the play was over and I could not even protest because I was supposed to be sleeping. Then, years later, I discovered Bradbury's writing and was reading all his works, book by book, when I found the short story "The Wind" in The October Country. It was my radio play and at last I was able to find out how it ended.
Thank you Ray Bradbury for an awesome memory and rest in peace. You earned it.