[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.

                          ____________________