Searching for Life Flight

Responders wade through fog & darkness to save fellow rescuers

By Martha Ellis

Salt Lake City Fire Department

At 2100 hrs on Jan. 10, 2003, I received a page reporting a downed Life Flight helicopter. I quickly tried to determine which platoon was working for Salt Lake City Fire Department that night so I could eliminate possible friends that would have been flying. The chilling reality that someone I had worked with could be in dire straits—or even dead—added anew dimension to my response. I immediately called my closest friend on the Salt Lake City Fire Department, Captain Cathy Cooper with Rescue 14 on Salt Lake City’s west side. An accomplished paramedic and captain, Cooper flies with Life Flight on her days off. My first thought when I received the page was, “I hope Coop is at Station 14”. I was relieved to hear her voice. She was unaware of the accident. At approximately 2030 hours Life Flight had been dispatched to a rollover accident in Wendover, Nev., about 120 miles west on Interstate 80 on the Utah/Nevada border. The crew knew the AirMed team from the University of Utah had been dispatched first to the accident, but hadn’t learned that heavy fog near the Salt Lake City International Airport had forced the helicopter to turn back. When the Life Flight team approached the same foggy area, they realized their flight would also prove risky.

Paramedic Kyle Lavender was working at Station 12—one of the two Salt Lake City Fire Department’s International Airport rescue fire stations—when events began to unfold. He sat in the station’s observation room listening to air traffic control on the scanner and heard the AirMed helicopter ask for clearance from the tower at approximately 2020 hours. Lavender recalls, “I was unfamiliar with the particular type of clearance they were asking for, so I called John Maxwell, a paramedic partner of mine who flies for Life Flight, to ask what it meant. He told me that it was clearance usually given to an aircraft flying by visual flight rules through an area being controlled by instrumentation.” Roughly 20 minutes passed before Lavender heard another helicopter asking for the same clearance. He recalled that this flight, the Life Flight helicopter, was held short due to traffic, which forced them to circle west of the airport. “I heard the tower give them a new bearing, then I lost track of the air traffic,” Lavender says. “I didn’t think too much of it until I heard the tower repeatedly call Life Flight 6 without getting a response. When I realized that the tower was trying to call up Life Flight to no avail, I alerted my crew. We were rolling out the door when the call came in.”

The Conditions

Fog had reduced visibility near Station 12 to 10–15 feet. As bay doors rolled up the firefighters couldn’t see the end of the apron. Lavender recalls the eerie sensation of driving across the taxiways as Station 12’s crew headed across the airfield. Units from Station 12included Red 1, a four wheel drive command unit manned by Captain Kevin Adams, Red 5, an ARFF unit manned by Firefighter George Peck, Red 6, an ARFF unit manned by Firefighters Dave Johnson and Andy Gomez, and Rescue 12, a four wheel drive auxiliary manned by Kyle Lavender and Cameron Moore. “I remember feeling almost suffocated by how thick the fog was,” Lavender said. “There was a real fear for us that we could actually run into an aircraft, because it was so foggy.” Driving in a single file line, led by Captain Adams and instructions from the tower, the crew made its way to the edge of airport property where the tower believed the last point of contact occurred. The Life Flight helicopter could have been anywhere in an estimated 6-square-mile area, based on the bearings given to the pilot and best approximation of the individual manning the radar screen.

The Response

By 2100hours, additional Salt Lake City Fire Department units dispatched to the scene included Battalion Chief Wayne Edginton (Battalion 2), Rescue Engine 11, manned by Captain Tom Pace, Engineer Bob Shepherd, and Paramedics Glade Ridd and Otto Visser, Red 2, a command vehicle manned by Captain Steve Hermanson, and Red 3,an ARFF unit manned by Keith Kennedy, all from Station 11, the second of the two Salt Lake City Fire’s International Airport stations. In the event of an airport emergency, the control tower has the ability to open the dispatch speaker at Salt Lake City’s Station 11 and 12, and the Air National Guard station, by simply picking up a designated phone. The system was utilized that night. One of Salt Lake City’s ARFF units and the crew from the Air National Guard remained in quarters to continue covering the airport. Engine 9 from Station 9, was dispatched per the request of Captain Pace because of their location, which is located approximately 3 miles west of the airport. The dispatch came across the station speakers as a possible helicopter down near the airport. Except for the units leaving station12, no one knew it was a Life Flight helicopter that was missing.

Airport radio-tower personnel believed their last point of contact with Life Flight occurred when the helicopter was north of Interstate80 and west of the airport. The dense fog condition, compounded by the evening darkness, made it extremely difficult to locate the helicopter. All of the crews involved in the search did an excellent job of communicating their intended search area to assure that resources were used to their greatest advantage. Station 12’s crew covered the west boundary of the airport, utilizing an access road and the four-wheel drive units, Red 1 and the Rescue 12. ARFF units stayed on the road while Red 1 and Rescue 12 started at the northwest corner of the airport property and worked their way south along the west fence line. Station 11’s crew split up, Red 2 and 3 exited at 5600 West and headed north based on the information given by the tower. Rescue 11 exited at4800 West and proceeded north as well, conducting a search on foot of the fields to the north east of The International Center. Engine 9, manned by Captain Brigham Darger and Engineer Dean Peterson, headed due east out of their station on Amelia Earhart drive, toward the east border of the International Center, while Auxiliary 9, manned by Firefighters Leonard Iverson and Vince Martinez took the four-wheel-drive grass wagon to perform an off-road search toward the north east. Crews searched in fields and parking lots for any sign of the craft, such as fire, strobe lights or engine noise. Atone point, Rescue 12 thought they had located the craft, but realized they had discovered the lights and engines of a grounded aircraft.

Edginton established a command post in The International Center, just west of the airport. At 2105 hours Chief Edginton received information suggesting that the craft could be south of I-80.

Battalion Chief Mike Andrew, who worked as Battalion 1 that night, heard the initial call for the downed helicopter on his handset and proceeded toward the scene. Upon hearing the new location information, he began to head west on I-80 to the 5600 West exit. He pulled his rig onto the over pass facing the south. “I sat there for a minute, with my overhead lights on, listening to the radio,” Andrew says. “I was trying to make sense of the area which had already been covered, as far as the search, and was preparing to put together a search team to begin working on the south side of I-80.” After sitting there for a couple of minutes, a pair of headlights came out of the fog from the south and stopped at Andrew’s rig. The driver frantically rolled down his window and asked Andrew, “Are you looking for a helicopter?” Andrew could not believe the good fortune. “These guys were a real godsend.”

Changing the Focus

The driver stated that he and his passenger had heard a low flying helicopter and a crash north of the warehouse where they had been working. The area they described was just 1/4 mile south of Andrew’s location. He immediately called for emergency radio traffic, which is a radio designation reserving air traffic for emergency communications only. Salt Lake City FD uses this form of communication in the event of a mayday, or like incident emergency. Emergency traffic clears airwaves when crucial information needs to be disseminated. In this case, there were many units trying to gain information and give up-dates on their search when Andrew received the critical search-altering tip. Command designated Andrew as South Sector Operations Chief, and Rescue Engine 14 was dispatched as an additional resource. At 2112 the command post was moved from the north side of the freeway to the area of 150South and 5600 West. A unified command with Salt Lake City Fire, Salt Lake City Police, the Utah Highway Patrol and Airport Security was established, with Chief Edginton remaining as IC. All units slowly made their way to the new command post. “This was a terrible night,” recalls Edginton. “I was driving about 10 to 15 miles per hour and could not even see the apparatus which was right in front of me.”

Pinpointing the Crash Site

The road north of the warehouse was not much of a road at all—it was a poorly marked gravel access to the fence line of the warehouse property. Andrew attempted to mark the turn for incoming units, but had no means in his rig. One important lesson learned: “This really stressed the importance of carrying some type of flare or portable strobe. The best I could do was to give a visual description of the turnoff and hope others would find it,” Andrew said. At 2115 hours, as he turned east on the road, Andrew recalls reporting via radio that he could smell aviation fuel in the air. “As I drove down the road, I actually had my head partially out of the window, following the smell of jet fuel.”

Farther down the road, Andrew ran into the workers who had given him the tip on the craft’s location. He tried to get more information from the obviously rattled warehouse employees. “I’m a lifelong resident of Salt Lake City and have spent many summers fighting grassfires in that very area, but I had zero inclination as to what my bearings were due to the fog. “He eventually had one of the men get in his rig and ride with him. The worker kept repeating that he was certain it was “right out there,” as he gestured to the sea of fog over the field.

The packed gravel road quickly changed as they drove. The area had been subjected to truckloads of fill dirt, concrete blocks and other debris that had been dumped there. “This terrain would have been better suited for a horse or mule, not a four-wheel drive vehicle,” recalls Andrew. “But somehow we made it out there, as it would turn out, to almost the exact location that our crews eventually found the craft.” However, not knowing the crash site was so close, Andrew turned back toward the dirt road to report to two deputy chiefs waiting just north of the field. Andrew suggested deploying the Salt Lake County Search and Rescue Team.

In the meantime, Auxiliary 9, manned by Firefighters Martinez and Iverson, had arrived in area, and reported to South Sector Command. Andrew sent them toward the area where he had picked up the heaviest fuel smell. Three Salt Lake City police officers, Teresa McKinnon, James Washington, and Barry Larsen, who had also had contact with the witnesses, headed down the dirt road to assist in the search. Due to the rough terrain, they opted to split up and head out on foot to cover more ground. They operated almost completely by smell. “It was a desperate, instinctual effort,” describes McKinnon. “We were running through the field, just following the smell of fuel”. Mud, surplus canals and barbed wire fences added to the challenge. At 2128 Iverson had lost the scent of the fuel. “We had only been searching for a couple of minutes, when I realized that I could not smell the fuel any longer,” recalls Iverson. “I radioed to Martinez to see if he had lost it, too, and he had. At that point, we decided to move closer to each other until we picked up the smell again.” The frustration was palpable. They knew they were close, but could not get a visual.

At the command post, representatives from several agencies began to arrive, including the FAA and National Transportation Safety Board(NTSB), who had been notified by Airport Control. “At one point I turned around and there were two mechanics from Life Flight standing behind me,” Edginton recalls. “They had come over from the airport hanger after being notified [about the crash].” Up until this point, only Rescue 12 knew they were searching for a medical helicopter. Edginton, who has flown for AirMed for several years, remembers his shock when he realized what they were looking for. “I thought for sure it would be a local news or private helicopter,” he said. “Medical helicopters rarely fly in conditions like this. I was able to obtain valuable information about the helicopter and its crew from the mechanics. Later, I utilized them to ensure that all the fuel pumps had been shut off, and all electrical power to the craft had been disconnected.”

The Find

At 2129, about the time that Martinez and Iverson had turned back toward each other, there was a call out of the fog. Police Officers McKinnon, Washington and Larsen were literally running through the field, somewhere between Iverson and Martinez when Washington caught a glimpse of the tail rotor’s reflecting tape with his flashlight. McKinnon and Larsen followed his screams. They called out to fire personnel, who were close by. Upon his arrival, Iverson attempted to relay his location to the Incident Commander, but had a difficult time due to his own disorientation in the fog and darkness. Prior to leaving his vehicle, he had pointed Auxiliary 9’s headlights into the field, not really to shed light, but to mark the rig’s location in the foggy abyss. Because his own headlights were the only things he recognized from the wreck, the best instructions he could relay to incoming crews were to go to Auxiliary 9, then head due north. Police officers used their flashlights as beacons to help incoming companies.

As fire personnel approached the aircraft, they were shocked to see Life Flight wreckage, not a civilian helicopter. Martinez recalls thinking, “I could know someone here.” Andrew explains, “As is common in many jurisdictions across the nation, several Salt Lake City firefighters also seek employment opportunities with the local medical helicopter services. We had experienced another helicopter crash, nearly five years ago to the day, in which on of our own battalion chiefs had perished. That was on many of our minds, as we addressed the needs of our patients and the scene.”

Responders immediately began to triage and stabilize three patients. The craft looked like it had almost fallen straight down out of the sky. All of the windows were blown out, and the weight of the rotor and engine had compressed the passenger compartment. First Iverson ascertained that at least one viable patient remained in the front left seat. “I remember looking at the flight nurse, Stein Rosqvist, and having him look directly back at me. He even tracked my movement as I walked past him, to assess the other two victims, but he said nothing.” The pilot, Craig Bingham, seated in the front right, and the flight medic, Mario W. Guerrero, seated in the right rear of the craft, were both slumped over and none responsive. Iverson reported the condition of the patients to incident command and requested help with extrication.

The right side of the craft had sustained more damage than the left. Iverson crawled in the rear window to gain access to Guerrero while Martinez attended to Bingham. “I remember calling Vince back to my location so he could help me lift Mario through the rear window”. Rescue 11 Paramedics Otto Visser and Glade Ridd arrived on scene seconds later. The craft had been torn open over Bingham’s head and after releasing his harness, Visser was able to lift Bingham out of the craft and pass him out to Ridd and Martinez. Neither patient was breathing or had a pulse. Because they were on auxiliaries, they only had BLS medical supplies. They adapted, and used the equipment on the helicopter. After patching each of them up to a heart monitor, it soon became apparent that Bingham and Guerrero had both died on impact. However, Rosqvist remained alive.

Making a Save

Officers McKinnon, Washington and Larsen did what they could, controlling the C-spine and comforting Rosqvist while waiting for additional medical resources to arrive. McKinnon recalls the level of intensity of the moment, “I knew the door was going to have to come off on Steins side of the helicopter. I don’t know how I did it, but I just ripped it off by hand”. McKinnon says, “We were all pretty wound up. This was easily the most intense call I’ve ever been on. There was one point when I was trying to free Stein’s foot, I thought to myself, ‘I’m losing it, here.’ It felt like an eternity for fire to get there, when in actuality it was a matter of seconds.” Upon Rescue 12’s arrival, they began working on freeing and treating Rosqvist. “I’ll never forget the sight of [one of] my favorite officers, Teresa, holding Stein’s hand and talking to him as we started to extricate him from the aircraft,” Lavender says. Rosqvist’s foot was pinned by the collapsed nose cone but was easily freed by removing his shoe. Other than that, it was a matter of releasing his seat harness and protecting his neck and spine as they slid him out onto a backboard. Several firefighters and police officers carried him off into the darkness. The closest ambulance was approximately 1/8 mile away over loose and uneven terrain.

The smell of jet fuel permeated the scene. ARFF unit Red 5was dispatched to the crash because the fire danger remained high. Red 5 was selected because it is one of the lighter ARFF units, and the ground was unstable. Martinez, having experience with the Air National Guard, realized that steps needed to be taken to minimize the fire hazard immediately. “I turned off the fuel pumps and did what I could to shut down any electrical systems on the helicopter. I was careful to make a mental note of what I did in order to include that information in my report for the FAA,” he recalled.

The Transport

When the ambulance carrying Rosqvist made it back to the pavement, several Utah Highway Patrol and Salt Lake City Police Department cars waited to escort them to the hospital. Taking into consideration the condition of the patient and the adverse weather, the police escort helped expedite the transport. Lavender was one of the transporting paramedics. “I remember thinking to myself at the time that it would have been nice to be able to get a helicopter transport, when it dawned on me what a silly thought that was,” he recalled. It reaffirms how much we rely on our brothers and sisters on the medical helicopters and turn to them in some of our more dire situations. Lavender initially reported to the hospital that their transport time was going to be close to 30 minutes. “I remembered hearing the shock and dismay in the nurse’s voice taking the report. Everyone knew time was critical in Stein’s outcome,” he stated. The closest trauma center was the very hospital the helicopter had left from over an hour earlier.

Rosqvist’s condition grew worse. Lavender and his partner, Cameron Moore, began preparing for advanced life saving treatment, which they were hoping they would not have to perform in the back of a bouncing ambulance. Rosqvist began developing a tension pneumothorax, and emergency measures would have to be taken if he lost consciousness. Lavender encouraged him as they made their way to the hospital. As they reached the metro area, Lavender was surprised and pleased to see that the police had every intersection between the freeway and the hospital secured and clear for their passage. They never had to hit the brakes, which saved valuable time.

When Rosqvist had been safely handed over to the anxiously awaiting trauma team of LDS Hospital, Lavender checked their monitoring equipment. He discovered that 22 minutes had passed from the time they patched him up on scene to the time they handed him over to the hospital personnel. The tremendous team effort of the firefighters, police, and airport security to find the downed craft and take the appropriate actions saved precious minutes.

Looking Back

Trying to articulate the effect a call like this has on the rescuers is not easy. Its impact was profound. We have dedicated our lives to serving and protecting the citizens of our communities. When the tables are turned, however, and we are faced with saving our own, our proverbial “shields” are stripped. We move into a form of autopilot in order to do what is necessary to complete the task at hand, but what happens after the adrenalin dissipates.

“I was deeply disturbed by this call. I have never had a call effect me this way,” recalls McKinnon. “My department did provide some critical incident stress debriefing, which helped some.” It was not until a week later, however, when McKinnon received a call from Lavender asking her if she would like to go to the hospital to visit Rosqvist that things changed for her. “When I saw him laying there in bed, with his children sleeping next to him, with normal skin color and clean clothes on, I finally thought, ‘I’m going to be okay with this now.’”

Could anything have been done differently to change the outcome of this call to a more favorable one? Chief Edginton does not believe so. “We were only 10–15 minutes into the search when the tip came in that the helicopter’s location was likely to the south of the Interstate, near 5600West. Things were really clicking along, and we felt like we were closing in on the helicopter. Had we received no leads and been unable to find the craft, we would have called for thermal imaging. I’m not sure if that would have been effective in the fog, however. The ARFF units have them, and they were not working that night.” The firefighters who man the apparatus carrying those units for Salt Lake City will research the viability of using them in that application. They will be tested in similar weather conditions to see if they work and, if so, what their range would be.

At the time, there was a great deal of frustration with trying to locate the helicopter. In reality it was truly amazing given the circumstances that it did not take longer.

Two key elements that led to the expedient recovery of this helicopter. First, a vast amount of territory was searched in a short amount of time. Everyone did their part to fan out their resources to cover more ground. By venturing further west, Chief Andrew allowed the witnesses to locate him, saving rescuers a tremendous amount of time.

Second, and most important, was the implementation the Incident Command System. This provided a smooth transition to a unified command as other agencies became involved and, given the intense nature of the call, allowed for communications to be channeled through a central command. “Even though emotions and anxiety levels increase when doing our jobs in these circumstances, if we follow our IC procedures and utilize proper radio communications we get through these incidents,” Andrew says.

“We would be negligent as incident commanders if we didn’t have a thorough understanding of these procedures or have them in place in our individual departments,” Andrew says. “We need to practice and drill on mass casualty incident responses, utilizing our PAR system, accountability programs, our radio procedures and our may day or lost personnel procedures, regularly.”

Properly utilizing these valuable tools allowed rescuers to pinpoint the location of this disaster and communicate the need for resources at the scene. In this case, it saved a life.