Fortunately when I moved into Grants Pass seven years ago I knew many of the firefighters at the new fire station I joined. I had actually helped train many of them to become firefighters when they were still kids, before they too moved away from my old rural community in Cave Junction. Everyone at the new station welcomed me with open arms and big pats on the back, except this one young guy nicknamed (Buttercup). One day he came up to me and said “I’ve heard a lot about you". Continuing, he said “I’m going to kick your ass and leave you in the dust on the next fire”. I had to laugh at him because first I’m more of an “actions speak louder then words” kind of guy and also how could you take a guy with a nickname like “Buttercup” very seriously anyway...
Last winter Southern Oregon was suffering from one of the worst cold spells to hit our area in 25 years. The local roads literally had two inches of ice on them making them almost impassable even with traction devices on. Since it was just a few days before Christmas, even though the weather outside was frightful, like in the song, the adventurous were still scouring the surrounding mountains forests looking for that perfect Christmas tree when disaster struck. A family of five was returning home in the late afternoon, after a day with friends cutting down a Christmas tree. Their car skidded off a cliff on a remote icy mountain road. All the local fire departments, Search and Rescue, ambulance crews and the Sheriffs department responded to assist in the rescue...
For many years now my feet have had to fit into several different pair of work boots at the same time. Currently I am a member of JoCo SAR. On weekends I pull shifts with Rural Metro Fire. I work periodically with the fire boys at G.P. Fire and am a 23 year, past veteran of I.V. Fire, before Larrieann and I moved into Grants Pass to undertake a new job with the City of Grants Pass. My take on the tragic event on Shan Creek are my own thoughts and should not be considered an official statement by any of the aforementioned agencies. I am keenly aware that the victims’ family may read my blog someday. My hope is that if they do read my comments on the events that unraveled that night they will find comfort that everything possible was done to save their dad / husband.
After G.P. Fire shuttled the first load of rescuers and gear to the scene we began preparing for the descent. While I have been in the steep angle business for many years now I have never been one of the people left on top to assemble all the rigging. While I am aware of what rigging needs to be assembled, I am not particularly good at actually assembling it. When the word comes from command “who’s going over” I just always step forward because I know I can do more good down there…
…as Netti, Ben (soon to be called “Thing 1”, (because we ended up with 3 different Ben’s in the dark, on the side of the cliff that night) and myself latched into the stokes stretcher rails, pulling the chin straps on our helmets tight, we headed over the embankment. One of my R.M. fire "buddies" (Buttercup) had arrived at the scene earlier in the evening because he probably is the only person in the county who drives a 4 x 4 who could have gotten up that old road without chaining up first. He had already gone over the edge and was beginning to feed us spotty information from his portable radio. Being the first team over the edge “Rescue 1” we started our decent. It wasn’t too bad for the first 40 feet, while using just the light provided by our headlamps to proceed. Quickly we came to the cliff. Netta said “HOLD”. With her lamp shining brightly in my eyes she looks at me and in a calm voice informs me, “Blaze, we’re not in Kansas anymore”. I began wondering how (Buttercup) had gotten down this fricking cliff when I noticed a tie down ratchet strap attached to a tree next to my feet with the end thrown over into the oblivion. At this time I did not know Ben (Thing 2, a family friend) had tied this conglomeration together trying to reach his injured friends below. If I did know that “Thing 2” had tied this mess I never would have done what I did next…
A rigging change needed to be made on top because of the new found dilemma (the sheer 100 foot cliff) and it was going to take a few minutes to set up. "Rescue 1" waited in the near total darkness listening to the family’s cries for help, still very far below us. Still thinking Engineer Buttercup had tied this self imposed decent line I told Netti “I have to go”. She just looked at me again and said “I know Bill, please be careful”. As I unsnapped from the basket, and down the tow strap, out of sight I slid. All I will say about this part of my evening is it was not OSHA approved. Finally meeting my new nemesis (Buttercup) at the bottom of the cliff he lined me out to where all the patients were plastered to the side of the mountain. As soon as I reached the family, I began doing what we are trained to do; patient assessment and helping re-adjust some of their positions to help them feel safer where they had came to rest on the side of that mountain. It wasn’t long before the rest of Rescue 1 had rejoined me and we began packaging mom and the young boy for their trip back to the relative safety of that slick logging road they had fallen off a couple hours earlier.
I have seen written where those of us over the edge that night were being called heroes. I have never claimed to be a hero before and still don’t think even after this arduous night, any of us rescuers are heroes still. We are all trained to do what we do. We learn how to fight back our personal fears and continue. I had personal heroes that night though. One of my heroes was the mom, for keeping her brood from any further injury while plastered to the side of that cold mountain waiting for the Calvary to arrive. She begged us not to take her on the first lift because she did not want to leave her two other children. We had to forcefully explain to her, your small son needs you most right now, so she allowed us to strap her and him into the basket for the journey aloft. Another hero of mine that evening was the teenage girl, hurt, cold, scared, holding the smaller sister in her lap she begged us to go help daddy, 200 feet farther down the steep mountain side. Leaving her in the darkness with just the dome light from the inside of the car slowly fading, I looked back and asked “Honey, are you going to be ok?” She just said “Please go help my dad” as Netti and I slide away over the mountain farther.
We now had slid so far down that mountain (550 feet) we couldn’t slide anymore because we were standing beside the iced over, Shan Creek. That’s where I met Ben “Thing 2” another of my heroes that night, personally for the first time. He was holding the dad trying to keep him as warm as he could under the circumstances, reminding him to hold on and not fall asleep, using his own body to deflect the rocks that were knocked loose periodically from above. He had sustained a pretty good lump to the back of his own head while shielding the dad. After quite a wait, G.P fireman, Ben, “Thing 3” arrived with the basket. The children’s father succumbed to his injuries as he was packaged for his trip to heaven…
…as we were pulled back up the mountain 200 feet to where the car crash was located, Netti and I peeled off to rejoin the two girls whom were by then sleeping and being held warmly in the arms of their two new best friends, Mr. G. and Thing 1. The Ben from below had helped carry our gear back to the crash site. He took the sleeping little girl in his arms already knowing he would be playing a different role in her life from now on. The rest of us quietly hunkered down awaiting the final lift for the two smaller girls because we too knew our lives will have changed after this experience that night. With the girl’s harnesses on, strapped in, away they went with Netti and with someone else, but I had lost track by now. Not wanting to wait for another shuttle to arrive, the remaining rescue members and Thing #2 began the hard steep walk out around the base of the cliff, back to the road carrying all the medical gear. I literally crawled onto the ice skating rink surface of the road at sometime around two in the morning, seven hours after we first descended over the bank.
...in the several days following the rescue we received several short notes thanking all of us for our efforts that extremely cold night. The compliment I most enjoyed hearing came to me in private though. Seeing Buttercup at the fire station a few days later he too admitted to me that “it was sure nice to see your ugly mug that night”, when I crawled down over that cliff to help him. After hearing that statement from Buttercup I slept very well indeed that evening.
Venture out and find a beautiful Christmas tree this holiday season. But please stay safe for all us rescuers this year.
