[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 90 (Wednesday, July 13, 1994)]
[House]
[Page H]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]
[Congressional Record: July 13, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]
THE FIRE ON STORM KING MOUNTAIN
The SPEAKER pro tempore (Mr. Holden). Under the Speaker's announced
policy of February 11, 1994, and June 10, 1994, the gentleman from
Colorado [Mr. McInnis] is recognized for 30 minutes.
Mr. McINNIS. Mr. Speaker, July 6, 1994. The fire on Storm King
Mountain. Let me tell you a little about the mountains of Colorado,
specifically Storm King Mountain. Storm King Mountain is a massive
mountain about 8,900 feet in elevation. It sits on the west side of
Glenwood Springs, CO. It is a beautiful mountain, a big, bold mountain,
a mountain which has provided over the generations water for the
community, a mountain which for generations has provided recreation and
has provided livestock opportunities, earning opportunities for the
people, hiking opportunities. It is truly a beautiful mountain. But on
July 6, 1994, just last week, 14 very brave individuals lost their
lives in an attempt to control an out-of-control fire on the face of
Storm King Mountain.
As I proceed this evening to tell you about the fire, to tell you
about the volunteers, to tell you about the firefighters and the
community and the very heavy price that was paid, let me remind all of
you in here that Storm King Mountain must be forgiven for she could not
control what happened on her face that day and that as time heals the
mountain, we also hope time helps heal this country for the tremendous
loss that we suffered of these young and vibrant firefighters who paid
the supreme sacrifice with their lives.
Let me start with the history of the fire. It is somewhat in question
as to when that bolt of lightening hit the mountain, but we do believe
that about on July 2, lightning did strike Storm King Mountain. At
least in Colorado when lightning strikes the mountains, it usually
takes from the smoldering to the actual flame clear up to 20 hours or
24 hours. But on July 2, a bolt of lightning struck the mountain and
that was to begin one of the deadliest fires in the history of the
United States in regards to forest fires.
The terrain of Storm King Mountain is steep terrain. In fact, where
these particular firefighters lost their lives, the terrain was
probably at about 70 degrees. It is not dense vegetation. It has
juniper trees, pinyon trees, and sheep grass. It is rugged terrain. It
also has a lot of oak brush.
{time} 2210
The fire, when it originally started, really was confined to about 2
or 3 acres. At that time in Colorado we had a number of fires going. We
had a horrible fire in Paonia, CO, that at this point in time and
already burned structures. We had a fire raging in Durango, CO. We had
a fire going in Fort Collins, CO.
In fact, on a daily basis, when fire has passed through Colorado,
this summer in particular, when it is very dry, we are averaging about
30 fires a day. This fire was being monitored, and it was about 2 or 3
acres.
By Tuesday of that week, it had spread to about 30 acres and we were
able to, because some of the other fires were under control, the Bureau
of Land Management and the Forest Service were able to move some
resources to Glenwood Springs. They had about 15 firefighters on
Tuesday.
By Wednesday these firefighters had additional reinforcements, which
included slurry bombs, helicopters, and 52 fighters that came onto the
scene to better control the fire.
At that time, again, the fire was about 30 acres. Control of the fire
was felt to be imminent. Amongst those 52 fighters, we had the best of
the best, and we had a group in there called the Hot Shots from
Prineville, OR.
Well, that day we had a cold front that came through the mountain
region, and that cold front delivered winds between 50 and 75 miles an
hour. In my opinion, those winds, swirling up that particular canyon,
were very unpredictable. It is my belief that this fire, once we
complete our investigations, will show that many unforgiving
circumstances came together at the same time to create this tragedy, to
create this inferno on Storm King Mountain.
What happened, and let me refer to our diagram here, this is about
the point of origin of where the first lightning took place. The fire
expanded to about 30 acres, which would be about the area where my
finger is right now. The winds came through, and, as I said, these
winds were not predictable, especially at the velocity they were. In
fact, I had a friend riding a horse about 6 miles away from the scene,
and said that the dust was so fierce that he could hardly see the head
of the horse as he was riding, and the wind velocity.
What happened was that the wind came into this canyon. An easy way to
picture it is on your right hand you have the incline of the slope. On
the left hand you have firefighters who are cutting down the slope a
fireline. The fire is going down in this type of direction, and these
firefighters are trying to cut this line. What happened is the wind
came into the canyon, caught behind this fire, swirled the fire, and
the fire was on the firefighters.
It was a devastating wind. The forest, as they say in firefighting
terms, literally blew up. This fire went from a 30-acre fire to a
2,000-acre fire within a period of hours. It looked like a blow torch
sitting on the mountain. Some of these firefighters never even knew
what hit them.
Some of the firefighters were fortunate and were able to outrace the
flames. But even some of those firefighters suffered very serious
injuries.
In a matter of seconds, what appeared to be a minor fire under
control by some of the most sophisticated, best-trained, hardest
working firefighters in the world, turned into a chaotic tragedy of
unbelievable consequences.
So as this fire expanded, there was an immediate threat, one, to the
lives of the firefighters, and, two, this is Glenwood Springs over in
this area. This community is surrounded by mountains that are vegetated
very much, like Storm King Mountain. The entire community of Glenwood
Springs, CO, was under imminent threat of total destruction. But these
firefighters wanted to make sure that that did not happen.
Let us talk for just a few minutes about who these firefighters are.
We know they are hard workers. They are young, for the most part. To
climb these kind of rugged mountains in Colorado, Montana, Oregon, or
anywhere in the West, you have got to be rugged. Frankly, you have got
to be a pretty tough cookie. You have got to be well-trained. Because a
timber fire is different from a grass fire, and a grass fire is
different from a fire with oak brush, and an oak brush fire is
different than a structural fire. They need to know those differences.
They need to know how to use their tools. They need to know how to
survive and fight fires under severe weather conditions.
But what I can tell you, because I was on the scene, I went up where
the accident occurred, where the fatalities were incurred, and it is my
conclusion after seeing that, and I used to be a police officer, a
fireman, I am not going up without knowledge, it is my conclusion that
those firefighters who lost their lives and those firefighters who were
on the scene gave it their very best. They had a job to do, and I think
that they did a good job. It is just that those unforgiving
circumstances caught up with them.
Now, there is also always a point in time where people like to point
fingers, where people like to say, did they do their job right? Did
they do this? Did they do that? There will be plenty of time for
investigations.
But right now, I am very comfortable in what I have just said, and
that is that these rugged, tough, young, and, by the way, well-educated
young firefighters, did the best job they knew how and the best job any
of us could have asked them to do.
We had lots of participation in helping with this fire. Once the fire
blew up, of course, it became the highest priority in the United States
in regards to firefighting. Before the fire was over, we had 499
firepeople on the scene. We had tens of ambulances. We had hundreds of
other volunteers from throughout the valley. We had thousands,
literally thousands of volunteers, who came to Glenwood Springs to
offer what they could to put out the fire on Storm King Mountain.
What about the victims? What about these firefighters who were, as I
described earlier, young, vivacious, energetic, bright? Well, I am
going to read to you tonight about these 14 people. I am going to start
with Tami Bickett.
Tami Bickett, 25, didn't let anything interfere with her
job as a squad leader for the Prineville Hot Shots.
Two years ago, she was injured fighting a fire. But
Bickett, willful and determined, persuaded her doctor to let
her go back to work.
""They put her in a supply office until she got better,''
said friend Laura Pyle. ``She wanted to be back out on the
line.''
Bickett, who was engaged to marry Bob Lightly, was a
strong, competitive athlete who loved the excitement of
fighting fires, Pyle said.
``She didn't like to lose.''
Bickett, of Powell Butte, Ore., joined the U.S. Forest
Service in 1988.
``All Tami could ever talk about was wanting to be a
firefighter,'' said another friend, Teresa Gentry.
She is survived by her parents, Gerald and Jan Bickett of
Lebanon, Ore., a brother and sister, and her fiance.
``I'm going to do my own tribute to her in Oregon, where
she grew up,'' Lightly said.
Next is Kathi Beck.
Kathi Beck, 24, lived on the edge.
``We were dubious at times,'' said her father, Ernest
Walsleben. ``But her love for adventure overpowered our
concerns.''
Beck, a member of the Prineville Hot Shots, did not fear
the elements, her family said. She liked sky diving. She
climbed mountains as close as Mount Hood and as far away as
Thailand. She ran every day and went rock climbing as often
as she could.
She loved children, and wanted to pass on her passion for
the outdoors.
``Kathi was a free spirit. She was a beautiful person, and
so kind,'' said her mother, Susan Walsleben of Boring, Ore.
``I always thought she would be written up in history books
because she was so unique.''
Susan Walsleben thinks her daughter was inspired by her
grandfather, who was a firefighter.
``Kathi always wanted to be a firefighter,'' she said.
Beck was a psychology major at the University of Oregon in
Eugene, notching straight A's and trying to earn money to go
to graduate school.
She is survived by her parents and two sisters.
{time} 2220
Robert Browning.
Robert Browning, 27, was a southerner fighting the West's
worst fires.
Browing had moved to Grand Junction in the past month to
join the Western Slope Helitack BLM Smoke Jumpers,
firefighters who rappel from helicopters.
A resident of Jackson, S.C., he had been working as a
firefighter at the Savannah River Site in George since 1982.
``His friends and his workmates speak of him as a No. 1
young man,'' his stepfather, Donald Lee Radford, told the
Augusta (GA.) Chronicle.
``He was a dedicated Forest Service person. He loved his
career. He loved serving people. He was just a good kid.''
Browing is also survived by his-mother, Ruth, and two
stepsisters.
Scott Blecha.
Scott Blecha, 27, an ex-Marine who had decided to give up
firefighting in favor of engineering, was always the one who
made everyone laugh.
He was an excellent athlete who worked as a life-guard and
taught water aerobics, said his girlfriend, Kelly Armantrout.
He enjoyed scuba diving. And he was ambitious.
He was student body vice president his senior year at
Clatskanie High School in Oregon. He played offensive tackle
on the football team and played clarinet in the band.
``He was a real go-getter,'' Armantrout said.
Blecha had lived in Clatskanie most of his life. He had
just decided to go to graduate school after fighting fires
this summer with the Prineville Hot Shots, said his father,
Kirk Blecha.
``He said he wanted one more season.''
Blecha died doing what he wanted to do, his father said.
``He was a man who made those kinds of decisions,'' Kirk
Blecha said. ``I love him a lot, but I want you to know he
was a man doing what he liked to do. We're going to miss him
immensely''
Levi Brinkley.
The triplets were born Oct. 21, 1971, in Burns, Ore. Levi
and Seth and Joseph.
``Most people remember when they were born, these three
wild little boys,'' said neighbor Carol McDonald.
When Levi Brinkley, 22, got word this spring that he'd made
the elite Prineville Hot Shot crew, he quit his construction
job in Boise, Idaho, and headed to Oregon.
He'd worked as a U.S. Forest Service firefighter in the
Ochoco National Forest for two or three years, but he didn't
plan to be a firefighter forever.
Blecha was earning money to complete his disagree at Boise
State University, where his two brothers live. He wanted to
be a psychologist.
Brinkley was an avid skier, and one of his goals was to ski
in Colorado.
``He and his brothers went to Utah last year,'' said his
father, Ken Brinkley of Burns. ``He said the next trip was in
Colorado.''
Doug Dunbar.
Doug Dunbar was only 22, but he'd been a firefighter for
five years.
He knew a good fire crew, and the Prineville Hot Shots was
the best, he told his father, Randy Dunbar.
Dunbar had called his father from Kingsley Air Field in
Klamath Falls to say he was headed to Colorado to help put
out a fire.
``I always wanted to keep track of him,'' said Randy
Dunbar, who had assumed the next communication would be in
person.
This was to be Dunbar's last season on the fire lines. He
had one quarter left at Southern Oregon State College in
Ashland to earn a degree in business administration.
``Doug was the kind of human being that society ought to
have,'' Randy Dunbar said. ``He was a good worker. He was a
good, kindhearted kid, and any parent would be awfully proud
to have a son like Doug.''
Richard Tyler.
Rich Tyler, 33, foreman of an elite four-person crew with
the Western Slope Helitack, narrowly escaped death in 1985,
when a helicopter crashed at the west end of the Gunnison
Gorge.
The helicopter pilot, Jim Daugherty of Grand Junction, and
three firefighters were killed. Tyler was a member of that
crew, but he had rotated out of the helicopter to the ``chase
truck'' that day, said Rob Ferguson of the Grand Junction
Fire Department.
``He escaped that one, only to have this one get him,''
Ferguson said. ``It got him anyway. It just took a little
longer.''
Tyler once said his job--rappelling from helicopters to
fight fires--was ``no big deal.''
He studied forestry at the University of Minnesota and
worked on fire engine crews in the summer. He moved to Mesa
County in 1985 to join the Helitack group because he thought
it looked like fun.
Tyler was dedicated to firefighting, said Paul Hefner,
director of the Western Slope Fire Coordination Center.
``I remember he was on a fire about a year ago. We had to
drag him in when his son was born,'' said Hefner.
Tyler worked seasonally, from mid-May until September.
The time off served as ``a cleansing period,'' he told the
Grand Junction Daily Sentinel in March. ``I get to spend time
with my son, Andrew, and my wife.''
Robert Johnson.
Rob Johnson, 26, and his 24-year-old brother, Tony, were on
the same ridge on Storm King Mountain Wednesday as the fire
roared at them. Tony Johnson barely outran the flames that
claimed his brother.
Rob Johnson was a rare combination--a firefighter and an
accountant. He spent his winters in Vail as a CPA, his
summers in Prineville fighting fires with the Hot Shots.
A 1986 graduate of Roseburg High School, he graduated from
Oregon State University in 1990.
His mother, Marie, is an elementary school teacher. His
father, Gene, is a fire marshall with the Roseburg Fire
Department.
Jon Kelso.
Jon Kelso, 27, loved the outdoors. A lifelong resident of
Prineville, he was a crew chief for the Prineville Hot Shots.
Kelso had graduated from Oregon State University with a
degree in wildlife biology. He was seeking an engineering
degree from the Oregon Institute of Technology in Klamath
Falls.
``It certainly has been quite a shock,'' said David
Armstrong, owner of Armstrong Surveying and Engineering,
where Kelso's brother, Greg, works as a surveyor.
``I know (Jon Kelso) enjoyed outdoor activities with his
father and brother,'' Armstrong said.
Kelso's mother, Anita, is a Prineville real estate agent.
His father, Marvin, is a sixth-grade teacher.
Don Mackey.
Montana smoke jumper Don Mackey, 34, died doing what he did
best: fighting fires.
``There was none better,'' said his father, Robert Mackey,
62, of Corvallis, Mont. ``He was one of those first and last
guys (in a fire).''
Mackey, who had fought fires for 19 years, became a year-
round smoke jumper in January. His last fire was deadly, but
Mackey--the father of three--was a hero, said his ex-wife,
Rene Mackey, 37.
``He was at the ridge where it had already burned, and he
took one bunch of firefighters up and told them where to
go,'' she said.
``He came back to get the rest of those firefighters and
that's when he was taken over. He could have taken off and
run, but he knew the situation and went back to save their
lives.''
Mackey's best friend, Kevin Erickson of Missoula, Mont.,
was on Storm King Mountain. He survived.
An avid hunter and fisherman, Mackey took his kids--13-
year-old Cara, 4-year-old Bob and Leslianne, who turned 6 the
day after Mackey died--horseback riding and taught them to
shoot. This year, for the first time, he obtained a moose
hunting license.
Don Mackey knew the risks. But he never thought he would
die fighting a fire, Rene Mackey said.
``He always thought he would grow old.''
{time} 2230
James Thrash.
James Thrash was the best of the best.
The oldest and most experienced firefighter to die on Storm
Creek Mountain, Thrash, 44, had been a smoke jumper for 15
years. He was based in McCall, Idaho.
``I find it very hard to believe that something caught him
off guard,'' said John Humphries, training and operations
foreman in McCall.
``People looked to him for advice and leadership on
fires.''
He called Thrash an ``avid outdoorsman, very skillful and
knowledgeable about taking care of himself outdoors.''
Thrash operated a guide business. He owned pack horses and
led hunting and camping expeditions into the Payette National
Forest.
He leaves his wife, Holly, and a son and a daughter, both
grade-schoolers.
Roger Roth.
Roger Roth, 30, couldn't get enough of fighting fires.
He was a smoke jumper based in McCall, Idaho, during the
western fire season.
During the winter, he headed to Florida to fight wildfires
there.
Roth, who wasn't married, had been a smokejumper for three
years.
Bonnie Holtby.
Bonnie Holtby, 21, was the youngest victim of the Canyon
Creek Fire.
Holtby was a high school distance runner who was long on
desire but wasn't the fastest athlete on the team.
``She wasn't gifted with a great deal of speed,'' said Jim
Erickson, who coaches the Redmond High School track teams.
``But she worked hard for everything she got. She had that
really strong character and integrity.''
Holtby also ran for the cross-country team in the fall and
played basketball as a 5-foot-8 forward in the winter. In the
spring, she ran 3,000-meter races and threw the shot put for
the track team.
``Some kids gain a lot of success just by sheer talent,''
Erickson said. ``Bonnie didn't have that talent, but she was
a dedicated, hard worker. She was special that way.''
Holtby had followed her father, uncle and grandfather into
firefighting, seeking the same thrill she got from athletics,
said her mother, Jeannie Holtby of Redmond.
She is survived by her mother and father; brother, Ben; and
a sister, Stacy.
Terri Hagen.
Terri Ann Hagen, 28, another Prineville Hot Shot, spent her
holidays and summers working at Central Oregon District
Hospital in Redmond, drawing and collecting blood in the
laboratory.
A 1984 high school graduate, she was just shy of completing
her degree in entomology, the study of insects, at Oregon
State University.
``She was always bringing these strange and exotic insects
into the lab,'' said Steven O'Connell, manager of the
hospital lab. ``My kids still have some at home.''
He described Hagen as a woman who liked to live life to the
fullest. He said she was excited about joining the Hot Shots
this year.
She leaves her husband, Cliff Hagen.
These names and the people that I have just discussed with you will
forever have their names etched in the side of Storm King Mountain.
What about the rescue and the recovery efforts? There are an awful
lot of people to thank for the efforts and for saving Glenwood Springs
from what appeared to be imminent destruction by fire.
I arrived at the scene and went up to the scene of the fatalities,
and I can tell you that upon getting out of that helicopter, it looked
like you were peeking inside the door of hell.
We had many people who spent a lot of time. We had the Glenwood
Springs Fire Department, their fire chief, Jim Mason, and his wife,
Renee, both longstanding and welcome members of the community.
We had Levi Buris, and Levi was the undersheriff of Garfield County,
and I think he went 3 or 4 days without sleeping. He wanted to bring
those men and women home. He did not want any more destruction.
We had the Holub brothers, Rick and Jeff, who were part of the search
and rescue crew, who have spent 16 years on search and rescue in that
area.
We had Steve Ocho, the same thing, dedicated his life to search and
rescue, and would not come off those mountains until they knew they
were able to bring these men and women home.
There was Tray Holt, who assisted as the assistant coroner in
Garfield County, a very compassionate and kind man.
There were the helicopter crews, lots of helicopter crews, and as you
know if you have read the news recently, in the last weekend we lost a
helicopter just over the mountain with two rescuers, the helicopter
pilot and a nurse.
In New Mexico just 2 days ago we had a helicopter go down that killed
three firemen. Helicopter crews take a high risk, but they are very
good at what they do, and they know how to do it.
We had lots of volunteer firemen, men and women from across the
valley. I will bet we had 25 departments, maybe even 50 departments,
that sent tanks and crews and backup and food and supplies to Glenwood
Springs to fight the Storm King fire.
Our Governor, Governor Romer, arrived on the scene and did, in my
opinion, a tremendous job in assisting the families and the victims and
the survivors.
Our own mayor, Glenwood Springs mayor, Bob Zanelli, who said that
``These 14 lost firefighters are ours. They are a part of us, and they
will remain a part of us throughout our history.''
There was the chairman of the Garfield County Commissioners, Marion
Smith; the Bureau of Land Management; the Forest Service; all of the
different agencies that came together to take on this monster.
Finally we slayed the monster, but not before the monster slayed 14
of our own.
I had an opportunity, Mr. Speaker, truly a privilege, to go to
Prineville, OR, for the memorial service. Prineville is a beautiful
community, a wonderful golf course, a small town, very, very similar to
Glenwood Springs, CO; good people, small town America to small town
America.
Prineville sent their youth to our community so that the youth of our
community could have a tomorrow. There were lots of people in these
communities, both in Prineville and down in Glenwood Springs, that
supported the efforts of trying to conquer the monster.
We had donations of everything from chocolate chip cookies to private
jets. We had pizza come down from Aspen, from Andre's, the local pizza
place, who sent in lots of pizza.
Norm and Rose Gould, the Goulds provided expresso. Can you imagine,
our headquarters was at the middle school in Glenwood Springs and our
firefighters for 4 or 5 days, 24 hours a day, either Norm or Rose were
there serving them expresso coffee, cappuchino, on order.
There were meals that the restaurants sent in by the hundreds, motel
and hotels that voluntarily gave away their rooms; the Wal-Marts, the
other clothing stores, Anderson's sent pants and smocks, all of these
retail clothing stores that would donate clothes, donate boots,
whatever we could do to accumulate our efforts in the battle against
that fire.
At the hospital we had a tremendous amount of volunteers, and of
course we had very qualified medical personnel. John Johnson and Trish
out there, who run the hospital, did an excellent job. We had excellent
response by the emergency squads.
We had a woman who carried around a sign at the headquarters, and the
sign said ``God bless our firefighters.'' We had prayers from every
faith.
In memory of the 14 firefighters, the city of Glenwood Springs has on
one of its mountains a cross. That cross is lit usually every holiday,
and it has been lit three times, for three different tragedies: this
tragedy; when the gas company blew up in about 1986; and the coal
company in about 1981 had an explosion, and that cross was lit for all
three occasions. In memory of these 14 firefighters, that cross will
remain lit for 14 days.
We had lots of help, lots of good help to take on this fire.
{time} 2240
What about the investigation? A lot of us asked the same question.
How did it happen? Why did it happen? Why did we have to pay such a
heavy price of 14 young, bright, capable men and women? Was it because
they had made a mistake?
In my opinion, no. I told you earlier I think they did a good job. I
think they worked hard. They were tough cookies. they were not a bunch
of rookies on the side of a vicious mountain in Colorado. They were
pros.
We are going to have investigations, but I urge people across the
country to hold off and let the investigations run their due course.
What we want to learn from those investigations is not who to point
fingers at, what we want to learn from those investigations is how do
we avoid this kind of tragedy in the future and what kind of technology
improvements can we have. What type of different strategies can we use
so that hopefully in our history this never repeats itself.
What about the future? The future I think holds a lot for Oregon and
for Colorado, thanks to the valiant efforts of these firefighters, not
only the ones who lost their lives, but also the firefighter who
survived, those Hotshot crews, and that is the name of them, out of
Primeville who will be back fighting fires very soon. Many of the crews
that were on that fire and pulled off that fire after we got it out are
now on other fires throughout the West. It is a job that is endless. It
is a job that will have a high price to pay at some point in the
future.
We need to give these people the best support we can. Being a
firefighter is an admirable job, but it needs support. They need
support from their community.
Let me conclude with just two things. First, let me read an article
about the final journey of the 14 who lost their lives on Storm King
Mountain. It is entitled ``Bodies of 9 Firefighter Make Journey to
Oregon.''
[From the Denver Post, July 13, 1994]
Bodies of 9 Firefighters Make Journey to Oregon
(By Mark Eddy and Ellen Miller)
Glenwood Springs.--Under a cross illuminated in their
honor, nine Oregon firefighters who were killed trying to
smother a blaze that threatened this town journeyed home
yesterday.
The caskets, draped in Colorado state flags, were loaded
into nine hearses adorned with purple bows and driven to
Grand Junction, where they were put on a U.S. Forest Service
DC-3 smoke-jumping plane and flown home to Oregon.
The nine ``hotshots''. were among 14 firefighters killed a
week ago when the fire on Storm King Mountain west of
Glenwood Springs suddenly flared out of control. The fire,
which burned more than 2,000 acres, was finally brought under
control by more than 500 firefighters Monday night.
The cross, on a ridge above town, was illuminated Friday
and will stay lit for 14 days in honor of the 14
firefighters.
District Ranger Dick Godwin of the U.S. Bureau of Land
Management led the solemn procession. He said there were
people at the Canyon Creek exit near the fire site and others
down the road at Newcastle standing by to pay their respects.
Six firefighters--four men and two women--were pallbearers,
transferring each of the caskets from hearses to the plane.
All six wore the standard firefighter flame-resistant uniform
of yellow shirts and green pants.
The only sounds were the roars of slurry bombers taking off
from Walker Field for morning strikes on the many fires
burning on the Western slope.
As the DC-3 lifted off from the runway at about 9 a.m.,
several firefighters removed their helmets and waved.
``It makes you think a lot about safety, and about how
serious a job this is,'' said Chad Ford, a firefighter from
Minturn. ``It really, really makes you think.''
The plane made four stops in Oregon. Six of the dead were
returned to Redmond in central Oregon, where the elite team
of hot-shot firefighters was based. Eleven firefighters who
survived the blaze and about 50 friends and relatives were on
hand for a somber ceremony punctuated only by sobs and the
playing of taps.
``This is the worst part of the deal, right here,'' said
Bryan Scholz, one of the survivors. ``It's going to be good
having them back home, but not being able to shake their
hands is a raw deal.''
The six brought to Redmond were Kathi Beck of Eugene; Tami
Bickett of Powell Butte; Rob Johnson of Redmond; and Terri
Hagen, Bonnie Holtby and Jon Kelso of Prineville.
Earlier, at the eastern Oregon town of Burns, a crowd of
about 350 fell silent as the plane approached. A minister
read the Lord's Prayer.
The plane later stopped in Eugene, where 40 ribbon-wearing
spectators awaited the return of the body of Doug Dunbar of
McKenzie Bridge.
The hearse was led by motorcycle police and followed by
several squad cars. Fire engines were stationed along the
route to the funeral home.
The plane's final stop was in Troutdale, east of Portland,
with the body of Scott Blecha of Clatskanie.
The bodies of the other firefighters killed in the blaze
were returned home last week.
Today I had the privilege and honor to write to Gov. Barbara Roberts,
Governor of the State of Oregon, Senator Mark Hatfield, U.S. Senator of
the State of Oregon and Senator Packwood, U.S. Senator from the State
of Oregon and the Honorable Robert Smith, U.S. House of Representatives
in whose district Prineville and these other communities are located. I
wrote as follows:
To the People of Oregon:
On July 6th, 1994, several of Oregon's finest citizens gave
their lives in the line of duty to protect the community of
Glenwood Springs, Colorado from devastation as a result of a
horrible, unpredictable fire. The pain and loss felt by the
fine state of Oregon and by the family and friends of the
firefighters is shared by the people of Colorado.
Such bravery, as shown by these firefighters and those
firefighters who survived, is the standard by which the term
``hero'' should be defined.
With deep gratitude, the people of Colorado and I would
like to thank the state of Oregon. We will reserve in our
memory and thoughts a special place, so that future
generations will recognize the price paid.
A beautiful and moving memorial will be placed in the
Glenwood area within the near future.
Finally, Mr. Speaker, years ago I lost a very, very close friend of
mine, and I can remember his grandfather, an old cowboy. His
grandfather came down to me, and I was in grief, and he put his hand on
my shoulder and he said to me, ``Scott, E.J. has just ridden ahead on
the trail to set up camp and put on the coffee.'' These 14 heroes have
just ridden ahead on the trail.
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