“I
am so grateful to each and every one of you. You guys were definitely beacons
of hope for me from the time I saw your headlamps at 1 am in the treeline to
the moment you crested over into the crevasse to the hot cocoa and warm gear.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am glad you are all safe as well”
– Alison Fountain in regards to the Corvallis Mountain Rescue
After
that fateful second, the second in time that changed everything, that second in
which Tommy slipped and fell, tumbling down a slope until he landed in a
crevasse, things would never be the same. Once Tommy slipped, in the back of my
head I knew we were in a bad spot. I did everything in my power to not slip as
well. I would put my ice axe in and in then toe in with my crampons for three
steps down, then ice axe again and then toe in. With my ice axe still embedded
in the ice and my right hand gripping that ice axe so tightly, I would try to
reach in to my pocket to grab the cell phone and check the status on any
communications with my mother regarding search and rescue attempts. When I got
her message about needing to confirm, my heart sank. It felt like I just had a
big empty hole in my chest where my heart should have been. What else do you do
in this situation? Well, I kept going. Ice axe, toe in. Everything was racing
in my mind from dropping my gear, to trying to traverse to be faster to even
sliding down on my butt, like glacial glissading. I knew these were all bad
ideas. So the slow process of my safe descent remained in effect.
Once
I made my way to Tommy, an hour and a half after the fall, I was torn. A huge
piece of me knew we weren’t in a good spot but another part of me thought that
we both just might make it through this. I was tearful in panic and adrenaline
that I went into survival mode with a flair of trauma nurse mode. At one point,
I even started thinking of ways to decrease the pressure in his head. We carry
vicodin with us in the event of a minor injury and thought that could be
beneficial to him. I went into the top of his backpack where the pills were and
instantly broke down. Everything in the hood of his back pack was demolished.
The pill bottle broken, the pills pulverized into powder, headlamp in pieces. I
lost it. To see the force that could cause all of that....to understand what my
poor husband had just been through, it crushed me.
I
also moved him from the center of the crevasse, where we were still in harms
way from falling ice boulders from higher up on the mountain. I tried to keep
him as safe as I could and as warm as I could. Constantly checking in with him,
“Tommy, are you still with me? I love you. Help is on the way.” His responses
were always, “I’m here. I’m with you.”
Once
the first helicopter came at 7pm, I was ecstatic, crying with the thought of
help arriving. I was elated that Tommy was going to get help, I could care less
if they would’ve left me up there over night. I just knew that he needed to get
to a hospital and get help. I remember running over to the opening of the
crevasse, jumping up and down, flagging my arms, and flashing my head lamp at
them. When the spot lighted me, I dropped to my knees because I knew Tommy was
going to be okay. He was going to survive. Then, they disappeared into the
darkness of the night. I couldn’t stop
yelling at them to come back. Sobbing and yelling. Now I had to return from the
opening of the crevasse and tell Tommy that they left and that we must now
prepare to spend the night up here. I
remember telling him that if we were going to make it, we had to make sure to
keep each other warm. At this point, he still had the majority of my clothes on
including an extra pair of pants that I found in one of our packs. I had to help
him put the pants on, he wasn’t able to do hardly anything. After the first
helicopter left, my brother sent a text saying they were trying to get the national
guard out there that night...again, I had hope. I knew they were stationed in
Salem and I know their capabilities (They have helped down in southern oregon
with quite a few long line extrications that we then rendezvous with them to
get the patient). I knew if anyone could get Tommy off the mountain, it would
be them. I told Tommy everything that was going on, his confusion was
increasing so I had to frequently reorient him and tell him that they are
working on getting the national guard out and they will be here soon. I knew
they weren’t coming...I just knew but I didn’t have the heart to tell Tommy.
As
the night and his confusion progressed so did his difficulty breathing. I sat
him up, leaning him against the side of the glacial wall to help him breathe.
He was beginning to have signs of respiratory failure, so I tried the only
thing I could think of to assist his airway. I tried to open his airway by
performing a basic jaw thrust maneuver; however, he was too agitated and mildly
combative that it was causing him more agitation that it was doing good for his
airway. Increasing his agitation level would just make the swelling in his
brain even worse. It was then that I did my next reassessment and told him to
look me in the eyes, that’s when I saw
what I was dreading to see. His left pupil was “blown” which means it is
completely dilated and it was unresponsive to light. His brain was swelling too
much that it was impinging on the brainstem. At this point, I knew Tommy’s
death was impending. His breathing continued to worsen. He couldn’t speak but
garbled mumbling. I straddled him and just held him in my arms and couldn’t
stop saying, “I love you Tommy. You are so strong. I love you. I am so sorry. I
love you so much. You are my soul mate. I love you baby. I am so glad we met.
You are the best thing that has happened to me. I love you honey. ” Within minutes,
he took his last breath while in my arms. I held him and kissed him,
uncontrollably crying. The finality of what had just happened was beyond
devastating. The time: 8:44 pm. A time and date that will never be forgotten,
forever burned into my memory.
After
that dreadful moment in time, I texted my brother to let him know that Tommy
didn’t make it. Minutes after that, I texted him to “please come and get me. I
can’t be on this mountain anymore.” The messages never went through. I knew I now had to prepare for the longest
night of my life. What kept me going? Tommy. Tommy wouldn’t have wanted me to
give up. He was always so proud of how strong I was and how determined I could
be. I just knew I had to make it. I survived to keep living the life Tommy and
I always imagined. He wouldn’t want both of us to go. I did it for Tommy and I
plan to continue to honor Tommy in all that I do. I set up my beacon at the
opening of the crevasse. I laid out gear at the mouth of the crevasse so
rescuers could see a debris field in case I couldn’t run out there fast enough.
I tried to prop myself off of the snow as best as I could. I used both pairs of
our snowshoes to create a platform for my legs. Used his backpack as a
makeshift bivy, placing my legs in the pack and then tightening up the
drawstring around my knees. I would lay with my head on Tommy’s chest and lap,
knowing it would be my last chance to do so. I would always tell Tommy that my
favorite place in the world was when I was laying on him, where his arm meets
his chest. I just wanted to lay in that spot as long as I could but then the
reality of everything would set in and the cold would force me away from my
favorite spot. To the laps I went. I would walk laps from Tommy to the opening
of the crevasse to not only keep warm but to also look for signs of rescuers.
Once
the ground crew was on their way, I would frequently check their progress and
then return to Tommy and lay back down with my head on his chest. I would still
speak to him, tell him what was going on and also tell him when I was too cold
and that I would be right back. I knew I should’ve tried to save my headlamp
batteries but I also couldn’t tolerate the darkness and the isolation of being
alone in this crevasse. It almost felt like I wasn’t alone as long as that
light was on. I remember going out to check on the rescuers when it was still
night fall and I recall them flashing their light at me. They saw me! They were
headed in the right direction. Watching their headlamps and their progression
served as beacons of hope for me throughout the worst night of my life. Then
back to Tommy I would go. I did this routine from midnight until morning. Once
dawn was upon us, I knew my flashing headlamp was of no good anymore, so I tied
a red bag that we had in our packs onto my ice axe and left that at the opening
of the crevasse. I needed to ensure that the rescue team still had some sort of
visual point to aim for. At one point, I stopped going out to check on the
rescuers because they were one crevasse below me and I just wanted to get all
the time I could with Tommy before we were taken off of the mountain. I
remember the first rescuer cresting over into the opening of our crevasse and
he said, “Hi, my name’s Tyler, I’m from Corvallis Mountain Rescue. I will be down
in just a few minutes with hot food and drinks for you both.” That’s when I
lost it yet again. I looked up from Tommy’s chest and cried out, “He’s dead!”
Tyler turned back to say something to the rest of his team, something I did not
hear but can only imagine what it was. He then immediately unclipped himself
from his roped team and ran down to me. He gave me the most genuine hug and
condolences that I ever could have imagined. He stayed with me until the
National Guard was able to air lift me off of the glacier. In our time
together, I had mentioned to Nate that there were a few items that were very
special to me and that I had to have them. He told me I couldn’t take anything
with me during the air lift but he would make sure I got them. He helped me
pack my bags, paying special attention to those special items. I got my bags
back when they recovered Tommy’s body off the mountain. I couldn’t look through
my stuff, it was too raw. But the next day, I was left to my own devices for a
moment and I started looking for a few of the items that I just had to
have...they were gone! They weren’t in my bag where Nate and I packed them...I
lost my mind! My brother called the Sheriff and they called the rescue team.
The rescuers personally took my prized possessions to ensure that they did not
get lost. They boxed them up and I was able to retrieve them later on. Everything
about the Corvallis Mountain Rescue is amazing and special. I cannot thank them
enough. They were truly my knights with shiny ice axes and headlamps. There
will always be a special place in my heart for the 5 rescuers that day; not
because they assisted me off of the mountain but for their kindness and
sincerity and amazing spirits.
No comments:
Post a Comment