Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Chapter VII
Cape Mendocino
64-14856
Friday, November 22nd, 1996


     It was a cold November evening in the northwest and I was driving south on Interstate 5 returning to Vancouver, Washington with my then ten year old daughter Brianna.  A long weekly drive that had become so familiar I could do it in my sleep.  I had made this long tiresome drive every available weekend over the past three years and I would continue to do so for almost three more years.  I memorized every twist and turn and speed trap along the way.  My normal routine on Friday was to arrive at work earlier than normal in order to get in eight hours done in time to beat rush hour traffic on the drive north for two hours and pick up my wonderful little girl from school and take her out to dinner somewhere along the two hour return trip.  

     It was always a great opportunity to just talk about her week in Lakewood, which is located just outside of Fort Lewis, Washington.  I would always ask, So how was school?  How are your friends? Do anything fun?, or What would you like to do this weekend? How about a movie or climb Multnomah Falls?"  It was the typical get to know you again chit-chat between a child and divorced parent.  But tonight's conversation was going to be a little different.  Tonight I had the difficult task of informing her that one of my friends, a person she had met on several occasions at squadron functions had died of a heart attack the day before.  I was preparing her for a different kind of weekend.  One where we would not be doing our normal routine of restaurants, movies, and nature hikes instead we would be attending a wake.  How do you explain a wake to a child?  I had two hours to think about it on the drive north, and I am glad we had two more hours in the car to talk about it on the way home.  As our conversation on the subject continued I could see Brianna's face in the reflection of car passenger door window.  She had a very serious and concerned look on her face as she starred out window as if trying to hide her expression.  "Dad, I do not want to see a dead body," she finally said.  I remembered my first wake, it was my Grandfather Claudio Ruiz, I was almost ten years old and it scared the hell out of me to see him lying in a coffin surrounded by a small garden of flowers and people crying.  I said, "ok sweetheart I understand we will attend the wake but you do not have to see him."  I could see a huge sense of relief upon her face and body language and I decided to change the conversation to something more pleasant, maybe we could still fit in at least one new restaurant or a movie.

     Master Sergeant Richard A. Harder was better known as "The Bagger."  He had received the call sign after participating in several rescue missions in which all of the victims had returned in body bags.  Rumors around the squadron were that during his first seven rescue mission he had returned to the base without survivors only body bags!  I am not sure if the real number of mission was seven or whatever the real body count was.  No matter it did not compare to the over 300 people he saved by the time I was introduced to The Bagger.  Sergeant Harder was a twenty year veteran of the Portland Fire Department and a Pararescue man in the 304th Rescue Squadron and always the first to volunteer for a mission.  He had a great smile and a gift for making you feel like you were the most important person in the room when you were talking to him.  I still miss his daily warm whimsical morning greeting "Sir, tell me a story" he would always say as he passed you in the various hallways of the squadron.

     I discovered the words "World Famous" were written on the inside of his helmet from a Mount Hood climber that Bagger rescued.  During the mission the climber noticed it when Bagger took his helmet off and place it on the snow nest to him as he frantically dug a hole.  The stranded climber expecting to be immediately rescued asked "Why are you digging?"  Bagger responded the hole is for you.  I am sure this confused the survivor or more like scared him from Bagger's description and smile on his face when he told me his side of the story.  The survivor noticing the inside of the helmet then ask "What does World Famous mean?"  Bagger a humble man simply replied "Oh that, we will talk about that later, right now I have to dig."  Indeed the hole was for the climber and for Bagger it would prevent them both from being blown off the ridge by hurricane force winds produced under the Pave Hawk during the extraction.

     As inscribed inside his helmet Bagger was world famous.  Anytime I mentioned the fact that I was a member of the 304th Rescue Squadron no matter what part of the world I was in, people would immediately respond with oh you must know The Bagger?  

      Sergeant Harder became world famous during one of the biggest mountain search and rescue operations in U.S. history.  Known as the Oregon Episcopal School Tragedy where 15 students and three adult leaders attempted a climb the 11,239 feet to summit Mount Hood in May of 1986.

     On Monday the day after Mothers' Day, the hikers struggled against the darkness and bitter cold toward the summit of Mount Hood to catch the warm rays of a new day.   During the first part of the climb five students became sick and returned to base camp.  With only one days' rations of food and water and only one sleeping bag and no tents the others pressed on.  Just 14 feet from the summit the students experienced a demonic snowstorm with 60 mile per hour gusts that forced them to find shelter in a small snow cave.

     Student climber Molly Schula then 17 years old, and Ralph Summers age 30, a professional mountaineer continued to hike down the mountain to seek for help.  Their cries for help the next day launched one of the largest U.S. mountain search and rescue operations ever launched.  Local state, federal, and volunteer resources covered the mountain working against time and the cold.

     The 304th Rescue Squadron helicopters loyal to the search continued to scan the freshly snow covered mountain for any signs of the students.  Early Wednesday morning, Bagger spotted two students at the 7,700 foot level that had left eight others in a second attempt to also go for help.  A third student also part of this second attempt was later found about 500 yards away at the 8,200 foot level.  They were all airlifted to local Portland hospitals where attempts to revive them failed.  Just before the search and rescue efforts were to be called off on the third day, again it was Bagger that came across a backpack at the 8,300 foot level.  Search efforts for the snow cave encompassing the eight missing hikers were now concentrated in the zone where the backpack was located.  The hunt paid off, Bagger found the missing students barely alive.  Of the eight found in a snow cave only two 16 year old sophomores survived Giles Thompson and Brinton Clark.  Nine others were dead to date this is the worst climbing disaster on Mount Hood.  Bagger never gave up hope or the search for the missing students.  He was a good man and a good friend, I will always remember his mentorship.

     Upon our return to my almost completely vacant two bedroom townhouse apartment, our routine was simple.  I always insisted on my daughter taking a shower immediately up arrival to remove the second hand cigarette odor from her long hair and I would place her clothing in the washing machine.  Oh the joys of being a single parent.  I would then have a long awaited cold beer in a frosty mug and try to relax from a very long week at work followed by an additional four hours of driving.  

     I was upstairs when I heard Brianna say; "Dad I thought you said Bagger died at the gym?"  "Yes, he did my love; he died of a heart attack during or just after his workout," or so I was told by my co-workers. "Dad, according to the news he died in a plane crash."  What? "No he did not die in a plane crash, the news always gets it wrong sweetheart, he died at the gym after his workout."  I said to her as I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling thinking will the news ever get it right?  They are making his death even more difficult to explain.  "Dad, he died in a C-130." Brianna continued.  What? No sweetheart, I said as I continued my walk downstairs to my bedroom where my daughter who was sitting cross legged on my bed in her pajamas pointing at the tiny 13 inch television screen.  I turned and looked at the small screen and immediately felt an electric shock sprint down my spine as I recognized the local reporter standing in the rain being blinded by the bright camera lights in her face.  She was standing in front of sign that said in big bold letters PORTALND AIR NATIONAL GUARD BASE.  What, this can't be.  It was the sign on the front gate at the base.  Oh No!  I turned the volume up just in time to hear the reporter say "There are no reports of survivors in the water at this time."  What?  I immediately turned back to my daughter and held her by both shoulders and said; "Brianna you have to be a big girl tonight, a very big girl, some of Daddy's friends may have died tonight and I need to get to the base now!" 

     Brianna go to your room and pack an overnight bag I have to go to the squadron now.  She responded as she always has with a great sense of urgency and those caring brown eyes that tell you I love you and I care without ever whispering one word.  I was very proud of her bravery in that difficult situation.  I called the squadron no answer.   I jumped into my flight suit as fast as I could as I continued to call the squadron again, this time a voice from the operations desk answered and said "When can you be here?"  I am on my way I replied.

     I then called Soap who lived just down the street.  "Hello" answered Captain Kevin P. "Soap" Jergens.  Soap are you watching the news?  Yes he answered what happen?  I don't know I just called the squadron and all they said is when can you be here?  Can I bring Brianna over and have her stay with Kim?  I will pick you up and go to the squadron.  "Yes, yes, see you soon" he said as he hung up the phone, I am sure he was busy getting changed into his flight gear.

     I said goodbye to his wife Kim and their six year old son Kevin Jr. before kneeling down to kiss Brianna goodnight on the steps of Soap's home and told her that I needed her to be a... she immediately nodded her head and said; "I know Dad, I will be a big girl, I love you."  


(to be continued)...

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