Winter 2013 ▲ Vol. 2 Issue 4 ▲ Produced and distributed quarterly by the Wildland Fire Lessons Learned Center What if you lost nine of your fellow crew members—almost half your crew? Kim Lightley knows. That’s Kim circled in white in the 1994 Prineville Interagency Hotshot Crew photo (upper left). This picture is taken just two days before these Oregon hotshots are assigned to Colorado’s South Canyon Fire. That’s the blow-up (upper right) on this incident that takes the lives of 14 firefighters, including nine of Kim’s fellow crew members. Taking Care of Our Own We are dedicating this issue of Two More Chains to the theme of “Taking Care of Our Own.” Kim’s story is a powerful account of the devastating impacts that this traumatic event had on her life. Today, this former hotshot speaks to other firefighters—sharing her journey to recovery. This issue also shares Ben Goble’s story. The Supervisor of the Ahtanum Initial Attack Crew, Ben lost two of his crew members last September to an off-duty traffic accident. His message: It is imperative that our focus shifts to taking care of those who remain. You’ll see that we try to address this essential theme for you—taking care of each other—throughout this issue. Kim Lightley Taking Care of Our Own South Canyon Fire Survivor Kim Lightley’s Long Journey Home By Paul Keller Kim Lightley remembers studying the fatal Mann Gulch Fire members,” Kim recalls. “But I also think, at that moment, I at fire guard school (what we now call a “basic fire dismissed that thought and those emotions with: academy”) in 1989. ‘It could never happen to me’.” “As I sat in that classroom, I probably felt some sadness for Unfortunately, 5 years later, on the afternoon of July 6, 1994, it does. the firefighters who lost their lives and for the family [Continued on Page 3] In this Issue Page 2 Page 6 How do we know this job is dangerous? Q & A with South Canyon Fire Survivor Kim Lightley Page 7 Page 8 Lending a fellow firefighter a hand Are you ready for a traumatic event? What’s in your Crew Boss Kit? Insights from a supervisor who lost two crew members Page 9 1 Ground By Travis Dotson Fire Management Specialist Wildland Fire Lessons Learned Center Truths [email protected] How Do We Know This Job is Dangerous? Answer this question: “How do we know fighting fire is increase or decrease risk. But the decision to take action dangerous?” kicks it all off. If you are like me, you say: “Because people get hurt and Putting the call out to drop the blade, spin rotors, or fire-out killed doing it.” Right? It’s dangerous because people die. But the next road unleashes the greatest risk—at any stage of our goal is to operate safely. What does that look like? Easy, attack. And we often make that decision unconsciously no one gets hurt or dies. Right? So, if we figured out a way to because we are just doing what we have always done. (“Let’s operate where no one got hurt or killed, this would cease to take a recon flight.” “Let’s put in some check line.” “Let’s be a dangerous job. back off to the next road.”) I know it seems like I’m Avoid the Fight chasing my tail here, but “Supreme excellence consists of breaking the Are we being honest? bear with me. enemy's resistance without fighting.” I don’t think we always What happens when you acknowledge the real risk on ask the question in a – Sun Tzu, The Art of War the front end—only after different way? something bad happens. Overall, our strategy Do you think this is a continues to boil down to: dangerous job? (Always a “Let’s do what we did last resounding “YES!” from everyone.) time and hope nothing bad happens.” This works out a vast majority of the time (making us think we did the right thing). Do you think we can fight fire safely? I just don’t think we hear ourselves sometimes: “Let’s go Different people answer this second question in different ahead and continue to try and stop this fire in lodgepole pine ways. I have found that the people who emphatically answer in the middle of August—after a month of doing the same— “Yes” to this question are on either end of our position with no forecasted change in conditions. But remember—no spectrum: Those at the entry level and those at the trees or bushes are worth dying for!” administration level. Why is that? If we start acknowledging that it’s not “safe” to fight fire, Every Time We Mobilize maybe it will make us think of ways to avoid the fight (just The new folks believe we can do this job safely because we like we should have learned in grade school). After all: tell them we can when we say things like: “Here is a list of things that will keep you safe…” “Safety first!” “Fight fire “Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's aggressively having provided for safety first” etc. resistance without fighting.” – Sun Tzu, The Art of War The administrators believe it’s true because: 1) We tell them it’s true; and 2) It makes things really complicated if it isn’t Trust me, I believe there is a right time and a right place to true. Who wants to consciously ask someone to risk their fight. I just don’t think it’s as often as we have made it out to lives because people keep calling about “that smoke”? be. Every time we mobilize and take action we are risking the Lead up, Tool Swingers. loss of life or limb, and our brothers and sisters die every year, making this a dangerous job. My point is the job is dangerous—not the way we do the job. I know, I know. The way we carry out the mission can 2 [Continued from Page 1] It is the sixth day of July, 1994. Kim, age 23, is enjoying her third season aboard the Prineville Interagency Hotshot Crew. So far, she says, it has been a super-busy “awesome” year. Her crew has just helicoptered onto a ridge on western Colorado’s South Canyon Fire. [See summary box on right.] The first group of nine unloads and is sent to help smokejumpers improve the fireline down below the ridge. Kim and the remaining ten Prineville Hotshots, along with other firefighters, stay on top of this main ridge to hammer line through Gambel oak. Within a few hours, sudden 45 mph dry, cold-front winds hit the steep, preheated hillside and fan flames up toward the firefighters. “We were ordered to run up the ridge to a safety zone,” Kim says. “But Photo of fatal blow-up taken at 1611 hours looking down—southwest— the 200-foot flame front had other plans for our escape. toward the “West Flank” fireline where firefighters died. “As billowing black smoke and a wall of red approached us, we had to 14 Firefighters Perish as They Try to Outrun the Flames retreat back down the ridge.” On July 2, 1994, seven miles west of Glenwood Springs, Colo., lightning ignites a Bureau of Land Management fire in pinyon-pine juniper on a “But the 200-foot flame front had other plans ridge at the base of Storm King Mountain. The fire is paralleled by two deep canyons. for our escape.” The past two days, lightning has started 40 new fires on this BLM District. The entire general area, in a one-year drought, is experiencing low “Dolmars of chain saw fuel were exploding humidities and record-high temperatures. from the heat.” Over the next two days, the South Canyon Fire increases in size. Visible from Interstate 70 and nearby residential areas, the public becomes “That wall of flames thundered toward us—along with concerned. Some initial attack resources are assigned. At the end of July 5, frantic yells—and a sense of pending death the fire is 50 acres. The next afternoon, on July 6, it spreads to for our fellow crew members below us approximately 2,000 acres when a dry cold front moves into the fire area. As winds and fire activity increases, the fire makes several rapid runs on that mountain.” within the existing burn—in dense, highly flammable Gambel oak. Fourteen firefighters perish as they try to outrun the flames. The remaining firefighters survive either by escaping down a deep drainage or “The roar of the fire,” Kim says of what she heard as she ran, “was like a by seeking a safety area and deploying their fire shelters. hundred railroad trains. Dolmars of chain saw fuel were exploding from the heat. Staff Ride to the South Canyon Fire: “That wall of flames thundered toward us—along with frantic yells— http://www.fireleadership.gov/toolbox/staffride/library_staff_ride9.html and a sense of pending death for our fellow crew members below us on that mountain.” Impact Her Life Forever “So, against all common sense, we dove down into a ravine on the opposite side of the mountain from where the fire was raging [see photo next page]. The Gambel oak was so thick that we had to practically swim underneath the brush to get through the vegetation. “Ashes and embers were falling around us—like snowfall in winter.” Kim and 10 other Prineville IHC crew members assigned to the top of the ridge—along with more than 20 other firefighters—defy the odds and successfully make it off the hill that day.