Fire fighting

I have been asked several times to talk about my fire-fighting experience.  I have been very hesitant because so much of it involves the personal lives of the people involved. 

 

 

John McColgan's Bitterroot fire picture

My first experience was in 1968.  I was hired by the National Forest Service to ferry fire fighters in and out of a forest fire in southeastern Wyoming.  It was a very hot and dry summer.  The fire was south of Elk Mountain.  I was the back-up driver of an Army "duce and a half" (2 1/2 ton) truck.  There was a lot of activity  moving the brave men in and out of the burn area.  The images of the blackened forest of dead trees and, sadly, dead animals still haunts me.

When I was given the opportunity to join the Sunshine Fire Protection District , I did.  It is our local volunteer fire company.  A group of my friends and neighbors.  There are only two calls I will share.  The first is typical of many of the calls we receive.  Sunshine is a mountain community, 2000 feet above and 6 miles west of Boulder, Colorado.  The road up to Sunshine is very steep and winds through a canyon.  We are often called to respond to roll-over accidents. 

 I was driving up the canyon one night around 9PM and everything was normal.  When I returned around 11PM there was debris all over the road.  I took a quick survey and did not see any damaged vehicles.  Upon a closer look, I saw a truck, overturned in the trees below the road.  The area was secure so I drove up the hill to a location where my cell phone would work.  I called 911 and returned to the site of the roll-over.  I  walked down the hill and looked into the truck, expecting to see a body.  At this point, I was hoping I could remember all of my first-aid training.  There was nobody around.  Dougy was the next on the scene, followed by two sheriff's cars and then three fire trucks.  We looked all over for the body.  Dougy thought there was a possibility that the driver may have been thrown out of the truck so we started checking the trees.  About that time, one of the sheriff's officers noticed that the keys were missing.  The truck was registered to a resident in our fire district.  We sent one of our trucks to his house.  He was home, passed out drunk!

The other one I wish to mention is still difficult for me to deal with.  We received a call for a "possible code BLACK" (dead on arrival).  It is hard when it is one of your neighbors ,a very good friend and a fellow member of the fire department.  Later that day, Milo and I lowered the flag to half-staff.

Our fire department, fortunately, does not respond to many fires in our district (we don't have many fires).  From time to time we get a call on "smoke in the area".  It usually turns out to be someone's fireplace or, on damp cloudy days, fog.  We do have a well trained team that will respond, out of district, to forest fires in Colorado and Wyoming.

I have mentioned Wyoming  twice.  It's a big state with a small population.  I would be surprised if there were more than 495,000 people in the whole state.  It's where I was born and raised.  And that is another story.

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