YUKLA 27

                                                                             

   A reason why I have a blog...is to purge some of the pollution that I may have internalized.
September 22nd will be the 21st Anniversary of an AWACS crash that I responded to.  A twist of fate and timing created a window where a handful of firefighters became welded with this unfortunate wreckage.
   At the time of this story I was a Captain in the D.O.D. Fire Dept. at Ft. Richardson. I'd been a military firefighter since 1973. A career civilian firefighter since 1984. 1995 was a difficult period in my life. I was disillusioned with the department. I had rank, I knew my job and I enjoyed the responsibility of making the right call in seconds. What I didn't favor was the mentality of the dept.
  Racists within our walls. Cowboy mentality with empty bravado. I faked it. I think I was loved as their Captain but I wanted to embrace life... I wanted to embrace myself with a real foundation/heart.
   How could I envelope that desire and return to work with another face? So,...at the time of this story I remember where my head was at....thanks blog.
   We worked 24 hr. shifts... with 24 off and three day breaks every two weeks. (<--Sorry, just setting up the story.) Rotating monthly from structural station to airfield station just to break up the design. I was car pooling that morning due to car issues. Zuniga and I saw a mushroom cloud in the vicinity of the military's ammo bunkers. Our wheels were turning trying to interpret the color and shape of the explosive cloud on the horizon. When we arrived at the station all the bays were emptied of apparatus ..... no crash/rescue trucks, no personnel. Listening to the chatter on the radio we heard what had happened. On the adjoining Air force base (Elmendorf) a plane had gone down.
   Looking around our station and my crew of 'one' we saw the brush fire truck. A six wheel drive w/ 300 gallons of water. I was directed to respond with this vehicle. Why? Elmendorf has specialized fire apparatus that is designed for crash/rescue and no doubt has "surround and drown" the impact area already. Ok,... I get it. Upon arrival the answer was clear...nobody could reach the impact site. Wooded and hilly terrain prevented the massive Air Force fire vehicles from entering the crash zone.
                                        (see at 1:05 for the one and only truck on scene)

   We were it. Straddling down some railroad tracks to where a bulldozer was waiting for us and clearing a way up a 40 degree grade we followed this newborn path to the.... abstract site. Abstract as in it was a beautiful fall morning. Colors of birch trees and snow on the distant range painted the crisp morning until .....we passed a massive landing gear. Tree tops were sheared as if being sliced with a Ginsu knife. No splintering or ripping action, just a smooth angular cut. Weird. What was even more weird was that 'we' were the only first responders there.
   "Brush 6 on scene deploying lines" but there was no fire ball.  No rescue mission. We were spectators that wanted to play the game. Frustrating. Nothing was identifiable on that charred hillside. My eyes were fixated on the heat that once was. We made our way down the slope putting out hot spots. The trauma became more apparent the further we tread into the carnage. The AWCS disk that is the signature piece lay up against the tree line.
   Odd. What was even odd-er was that it was quiet. No crying, no sirens blaring or people, just silence with a deafening decibel level of pain. We were approached by an Air Force Officer in flight gear. He asked how we were doing and added, "be careful of the ash piles when you drag your hose." This Officer had the grim task of placing little red flags on what he discerned were human remains. His family. He also directed us not to go near the cockpit.
   Cockpit?  To myself I asked, where was that?  With his index finger he led our eyes to two charred bodies in what appeared to be seats. I thought it was aircraft debris due to the arms of both pilots reaching up too the sky as if surrendering. A structural silhouette from a distance. Later I was told that when arm muscles are burned they mechanically rise up.
   After seventeen plus years in this job field, I involuntarily conditioned myself not to be empathetic... we do the mission and critique. Unfortunately, I have carried that lack of empathy to some degree today...but now I recognize it. I do remember that after my shift I lay in my bed waiting for that aftermath weirdness to haunt me. There was none..... until I heard a flock of Canadian geese flying overhead. Felt good to release from that cue.
   Why blog about this story ?
  Elmendorf has a ceremony every year to mark this event.  A gathering of family and military have a remembrance. I never went. I know what it was and remember the event in my own fashion. Until I caught word that if I attended I should be prepared for family to have a desire to be near me. Maybe ask a few questions about what I remember. A new face in the crowd after 20 years. Do I put away my selfish profile and attend... no matter my social inequities or comfort level?
   At the end of the above video...the last statement this lieutenant colonel makes rings true..
"There's life after this and that we've moved on we've grown and we've learned from it."

I don't need to be there....thank you blog.