Accident Report

Forest Supervisor                                                         

Inyo National Forest

873 N. Main Street

Bishop, California  93515

Thomas Locker

Casa Vieja Guard Station

Inyo National Forest

August 9, 1979

Dear Sir,

I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 13 of the CA-1 (Federal Employee’s Notice of Traumatic Injury and Claim for Continuation of Pay/Compensation).  I put “bad decisions” as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.

On the day of the accident, I was providing logistic support to an Environmental Analysis Team analyzing options for cheatgrass reduction in the Red Rock Creek drainage near Jordan Hot Springs.  My assignment was to pack the Team’s supplies and equipment on a mule string.

We arrived at Jordan at about 1500 hours.  My assistant packer, Bill Schofield, and several members of the Team unsaddled the horses and removed the mules’ packs.  We hobbled the animals for the night.  As we planned to continue on to Redrock Meadows the next morning we only took that evening’s supplies from the packs.  After cooking dinner and finishing cleanup, since there had been reports of considerable bear activity in the vicinity, Packer Schofield climbed a nearby tree and looped a rope over a branch.  We hoisted the packs, which contained surveying and scientific equipment as well as food, about 50 feet above the ground.

After this the rest of the party went down to the hot springs.  I remained in camp by myself.  I had planned to finish a book I had brought along.  Unfortunately I had forgotten to take it out of the pack before hoisting.  I knew that the total weight of the packs we had hoisted up was about 400 lbs. and that I could not lower and raise them by myself.  I decided to use one of the mules.

After refastening the hoisting rope with a slip knot, I scooped a few oats into my hand and went towards the pasture.  “Vudu” was the closest mule and I quickly enticed her with reach.  This was probably not the wisest choice as Vudu can often be skittish.

After untying the hobbles, I wrapped the bitter end of the hoisting rope around her chest, tying a loop just behind the forelegs.  I then pulled the slipknot loose.  The packs dropped about two or three feet, taking the slack out of the rope.  The sudden tug and the rattling of cans and equipment spooked Vudu.

She began to run, kicking and bucking until the packs snagged against their supporting branch.  At this point I would say that the mule panicked.  The bucking became extremely violent and the loop I’d tied around her chest slipped back to her belly and rear legs.  The next couple of kicks freed her from the rope and the packs began to fall.

Knowing the value of some of the equipment in the packs, I grabbed the rapidly moving rope, in the process tangling my left foot in the line.

I weigh about 150 lbs, the packs about 400 lbs.  When I realized that I would not be able to stop the packs, I released the rope.   Imagine my surprise at being jerked off the ground by the tangles around my leg.

Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up towards the supporting branch.  At about 25 feet, I met the packs, which were now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the broken right ankle.  Slowed only slightly by this impact, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the packs hit the ground, leaving me hanging momentarily by my right leg approximately 45 feet in the air.

Unfortunately, when the packs hit the ground, the cord tying them together snapped, freeing all the packs save one.  Now devoid of the weight of most of the packs, only approximately 50 lbs. remained at the other end of the rope. As my weight was now greater, I began a rapid descent back towards the ground.

In about 25 feet, I encountered the remaining pack on its upward journey. This accounts for the broken tooth, several lacerations of my arms and upper body and the partially detached ear.

Here my luck changed slightly. The encounter with the attached pack seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of packs and suffered only three cracked vertebrae.

I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the pile of packs, in pain, barely able to move, I lost my composure and presence of mind.  I untangled the rope from around my now-broken ankle and lay there watching the pack begin its journey back down upon me. This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone.

I hope this explanation adequately answers your inquiry.

**********************

For further reading on this subject see:

Island Lake - Tahoe NF - 2013

Notable People - Rangering

During the nearly 30 years I worked for the Forest Service, I met a number of well-known people.

Bill Hewlett, of Hewlett-Packard fame, had a “cabin” in the Sierras near Donner Pass.  It was in an area known as “The Cedars” which is about due south of Sugar Bowl ski area.  This is a collection of very nice summer cabins (it is almost impossible to get into the place in the winter), most of which are owned by pretty well-to-do families from the Bay Area.

An example of the wealth of these families -- there is a large meadow in “The Cedars” which we were using a base to land a helicopter in to shuttle firemen into a small, inaccessible fire nearby.  There were a number of pre-teen boys watching our operations and I said to one, “Kind of exciting watching a helicopter land in your front yard, isn’t it?”

He replied, “Yeah, it’s neat.  I always like it when my Dad’s helicopter lands at our house to take him somewhere.”

Bill Hewlett

Anyhow, in 1992 they became concerned about their vulnerability to a forest fire and asked the Forest Service to help them devise a plan to minimize the potential for damage.  I worked with them to develop some plans to control the vegetation around the community, minimize the potential for fire starts and develop some sort of fire response plan.

Bill came to many of the meetings we held and was very interested and involved in the process.  I got to know him pretty well and found him very affable with a gentle sense of humor.  He did not in any way try to be the "leader," he seemed happy just to be one of the participants.

***********************

In April of 1974 I started working for the Forest Service.  I was assigned to fire prevention and visitor information services.  My duty station was at the top station of the Sandia Peak Tramway, just outside of Albuquerque.

Our job was to greet each tram as it arrived and explain to the riders the very high fire danger in the area, urge them to be fire-safe while visiting and then to answer any questions that they might have about the area.

One time when the tram arrived Lou Rawls, a well-known singer and sometime actor, was aboard.  I recognized him immediately as I prepared to give my little fire danger spiel.

Lou Rawls

After he exited the tram, it was obvious that he under the influence of something, but he asked a couple of question about what was visible from our vantage point near the top of the mountain.  I think this was more out of courtesy than curiosity. Two attractive young ladies accompanied him, but they both treated him more like they were nurses or caretakers than girlfriends.

The thing that I most remember about Rawls is that he was the actor who said the memorable line, “Ain't a horse that can't be rode; ain't a man that can't be throwed.”  This was on the TV show The Big Valley when he had a guest starring role as a hired hand.  I also remember that he was a talented singer with a very silky voice.

Win One For The Gipper?

I had a friend who played football at Notre Dame for Knute Rockne and who was in the locker room for the "Win one for the Gipper" speech.

Manny in 1929

Manny Vezie was the owner of Gold Arrow Camp, a children's summer camp, at Huntington Lake.

We used to go there pretty often to give fire prevention and nature talks and I got to know him pretty well.  He was an entertaining storyteller and loved to talk about his adventures in football and things that had happened at the camp in the past.

September 11, 2001

The hijacking of passenger aircraft attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Towers occurred on Tuesday September 11, 2001.  In Bishop it was just before 6:00 o’clock am when the first attack occurred.

I was still a Fireman then, and that day I was the “Duty Officer” which meant that I would be responsible for managing any activities that the firefighting resources on the Inyo National Forest might be called on to perform.

At about 6:30am the phone rang.  I was already up, even though I didn’t go on duty until 8:00am.  It was your Grandma, Deborah.  She told me that there had been an accident in New York – a plane had flown into a building.

We did not have cable TV in Bishop, and there were are no broadcast stations there at that time, so I turned on the radio and also logged into the internet to find out was going on.  I wasn’t overly concerned as I knew that, sometimes, especially in bad weather, inexperienced and/or careless pilots sometimes did foolish things.

It didn’t take long listening to the radio and reading on the internet before I knew that there was much reason to be concerned.  I immediately called our Dispatch Office and they were freaked out.  The FAA had called them and wanted to know how many airliners we could park at the Bishop Airport.  The FAA was considering not letting any aircraft fly near big cities and direct them to land at smaller airfields where the were few, if any, tempting targets for the terrorists.

The Bishop Airport was built as a training base for WWII bomber crews, so the runways are long and wide, easily big enough for jet airliners.  I went to the Airport and consulted with the Airport Manager trying to determine where, how and how many aircraft the field could handle.  As you can imagine, the timeframe was very short.  Before we had made any determination the FAA canceled the request.

I then went back home for a while as we were worried about your Aunt Doris who was living in Brooklyn at the time.  She could see the towers from her apartment.  She was never in any danger.  Our cousin John Meade, a FDNY Fireman, was off-duty that day.  He did lose his Father-in-law and a Brother-in-law.

Dorabelle Dawn Attack

In about 1979, I was a Patrol Ranger on the Sierra NF in Shaver Lake.  Early one morning I got a radio request to report to Dorabelle Campground to assist the Rangers there.

When I arrived at the Campground HQ I found the Rangers on the porch with a 30ish man. The man’s nose was heavily bandaged and, even with all the bandaging, it was obvious that his nose was quite swollen.

Shaver Lake at Dorabelle Campground

My first thought was that the man had gotten into a fight and would ask me to arrest someone.

That was not to be the case.

“I was sleeping in my tent,” the man began, “when I felt something grab my nose. I woke up and there were a pair of red eyes staring at me! Some sort of animal was biting me right on the bridge of my nose!”

I must have looked at him somewhat dubiously, because he quickly continued, “Swear to God, man! I’m telling the truth! I’m not drunk or anything. I was just asleep and something came into my tent and attacked me!”

He told us that he jumped up and when he stood the creature let go and dropped to the ground. It quickly scurried off into the brush.

“I didn’t get a great look at it ‘cause it was still pretty dark and it moved fast. It was about the size of a large cat and had light fur, tan or gray or maybe even white. But two things I know for sure, it had red eyes and sharp teeth!”

The man, somewhat understandably disenchanted with camping, told us he was heading home. “I want to see my doctor and get this fixed up. I hope it doesn’t leave a scar. That son-of-a-bitch took a lot of skin with him.”

I took the gentleman’s contact info and then shocked him by explaining that he would probably need rabies shots. Often, I explained to him, when an animal attacks without provocation, it’s because it is rabid.

“Couldn’t you trap it and test it?” he asked – no one looks forward to rabies shots, they have a notorious reputation.

“There are so many wild animals up here we’d never be able to be sure that anything we catch would be the one that bit you.”

“It’ll be the one with red eyes!” he said and stomped away.

“We’ll set out some traps,” I said, to his back, “but I’m not optimistic.”

Frankly, I was a bit dubious of the red eye detail, lots of animals’ eyes look red at night, due to reflections. I thought it was probably a squirrel that got into the tent and panicked when it thought it was trapped. We’d had a kid bitten by a squirrel (not rabid) earlier that same year, and it had happened before, usually when someone was trying to feed them.

Still, the rabies shots would be necessary, there’s no cure if it is allowed to begin. It’s nothing to mess with.

A few days later, I got another call from the Dorabelle Rangers.

When I arrived there were two children (10-12 year old) with the Rangers.

The children told us that they had gotten up early to fish.  On their way back from the lake the saw a squirrel-sized animal with white fur run through their campsite – which happened to be the same site where the man had been bitten.

“It looked sort of like a squirrel and sort of like a cat.”  One of the youngsters told us.  “We saw it go into this pipe.”

They pointed to a drainage pipe that went under one of the campground roads just across from the Campground Ranger Station.

The younger of the two then piped in, “It had red eyes!”

Now they had my attention.  Red eyes again.  What was going on here?

Getting my flashlight I looked into the culvert.  I couldn’t see anything, but the children said that they’d been watching both end of the pipe since it went inside and it hadn’t come out.  The Dorabelle Rangers confirmed that nothing had come out since they started watching it after the children contacted them.

So we took two traps and set them on either end of the pipe.  Wrapping chicken wire around both the mouths of the pipe and the traps, we were positive that whatever was in there couldn’t escape.

Nothing had shown up when I went off duty that afternoon.  First thing the next morning I went straight to Dorabelle.  The Head Campground Ranger arrived just as I pulled in.  We walked over to the traps.  There it was!  It had red eyes!  I realized that it was some sort of albino.

But what, exactly, was it?  I’d never seen anything quite like it and I’d been a Ranger for four or five years then, and an outdoorsman all my life.  It looked like a large weasel.  It was much too big to be a weasel, although it did have that general shape.  It wasn’t a badger, wolverine or any sort of cat.

Fish & Game came and collected the beast.  They didn't know what it was either. They took it to the County Health offices in Fresno.  It was euthanized and examined for rabies -- negative.  I contacted the victim and he was greatly relieved to know he wouldn’t need the shots.

A few days later I was in Ivie’s Market.  There on the bulletin board was a notice

Lost Albino Ferret   and a blurry picture of our "Red Eyed Creature."

Yep, it was a domesticated pet ferret.  Before this I’d never heard of them, but that’s what it was, an escaped pet.

Tharn Fawns in Euer Valley

Deer fawns have survival skill of lying down motionless when a predator is near.  Sometimes this is called “tharn” which is a phrase from the excellent story Watership Down.

In the summer of 1988 the Tahoe National Forest was getting a lot of lightning and the resultant fires.  I was working in Truckee and we got a report of a smoke high on the slope south of Euer Valley (which is just west of the Tahoe-Donner area).  I headed out with one Engine.  We located the smoke just where the report stated.  It was on private land inside the National Forest.

Euer Valley

It was a good distance up the very steep slope.  I directed the crew to attack it by hiking up with handtools and five gallon water bladder backpacks (about 45 pounds each).

While they were making their way up to the fire I went down to the home of a long-time local to inquire about alternate access to the vicinity of this fire.  Since the fire was on private land I had very little knowledge of the area and any roads or trails there.

My friend and I examined maps at his house and I pointed out the approximate location.  He told me that the land owners had done a timber sale in the area a few years prior and that some of the logging roads might still be accessible.  We drove out to an area above the valley to a gate to which he had a key.  He opened the gate and we drove out the road.  The road was overgrown but passable.  We had to move some small fallen trees and used a chainsaw on one which was a little too big to drag out of the roadway.

A few minutes later I drove right up to the fire.  It was about ½ acre, but not doing much.  There wasn’t a lot of other vegetation around it, but I called for another Engine, since I now knew how they could easily drive to the location. 

I also called the crew that was hiking up from below.  I figured they were probably about to the fire but depending on how far they still had to go I might have told them that there was a road, and to go back to the Engine and drive around.  But he told me that they were almost there, so I didn’t add any more.

Then I walked back along the road, looking down the very steep slope for them.  I moment later I saw the first crewman, Jeff.  Sweat was pouring from his face and his shirt was soaked.  I felt bad about them hiking when there was a road right there, but it was funny.

Just then he saw me, “What?  How’d you get here?  Oh my God, don’t tell me that there’s a road!”

“Yes Jeff, I’m sorry.  I didn’t know this was here until a few minutes ago – too late to turn you back.  But, yes, there is a road and the look on your face is priceless!”

So – I’m getting to the point here eventually – after a while we had a line around the fire and had used up all the water in the Engine.  I sent Jeff and another fireman off in my truck to get the Engine they’d parked down in the valley.  Another crew member, Tami, and I went off in the Engine to refill with water.

There was a creek about ½ mile away, so we accomplished this with no difficulty and started back.  About halfway back we saw a doe with twin fawns.

Tharn Fawn

The three of them started running away and then suddenly the fawns disappeared.  What happened to them we wondered.

We came around a little bend in the road and there the two fawns were.  Lying right in the middle of the road – tharn!

Tami and I got out, assuming that if we got close enough they would get up and run.  We walked right up to them and neither of them moved a muscle.  I got a stick and gently poked them.  Absolutely no reaction.

Hum!  We were stumped. We looked for a way to maneuver the Engine around the fawns, but there were large trees and boulders which made that impossible.

Finally we got some largish branches and scooted/dragged the two fawns off to the side so that there was room to get past them.  During this entire process they gave no indication that they were even alive except for the rise and fall of their little chests as they breathed.

We went on to the fire.  When we went back for the next refill they were gone.

Brushes with Evil!

I’m going to be somewhat cryptic in this post, because I’m writing about the disreputable side of human nature.  I really don’t want this post showing up on internet searches for the subjects I’m discussing.  If you really want to know more, using some of the facts stated here in an internet search should provide some info.

In August 1969 a group of low-life hippies living at the Spahn Ranch in the San Fernando Valley, who called themselves a “family”, went on a violence rampage, murdering seven people in Los Angeles, including a well known actress.  The leader of the group, a guy named Charlie, became quite well known following these events.

In 1985 I visited LA, staying at the home of the parents of a friend and co-worker from Mammoth.  His sister, a nurse living in Idaho, was also visiting at this time, with her two-year old daughter.  I didn’t talk to Barbara a lot, as we didn’t spend that much time at my friend’s parents’ home.  And when we were there Barbara was usually chasing or scolding her daughter, who was quite unruly.

A few months later my friend was at my house and noticed a book on one of my bookshelves.  The book was written by an LA District Attorney and it documented the August 1969 crimes and the following investigations and trials.  My friend pulled the book off the shelf, opened it and pointed to a picture, “That’s my sister, Barbara.  You met her at my folks' house.”

Barbara in 1969

Yes, Barbara was one of Charlie’s family.  She is a minor figure in the book, but plays a key role in a couple of episodes.  She did not directly participate in any of the awful crimes, but she did play a supporting role.  For example, when the “murder team” was preparing to go out on the “mission” which resulted in the actress’s death, Barbara gathered clothes and weapons for them.  Also, the “Family” stayed at the Spahn Ranch rent-free because the female members of the family “entertained” Mr. Spahn whenever he liked.  Barbara was one of the girls who helped in this “entertainment.”

BTW - I have seen speculation on the internet that Barbara may have had a child with Charlie.  This isn't correct.  Barbara's oldest, and as far as I know, only, child was about two in 1985, so she couldn't have been conceived much before 1981.  Charlie has been incarcerated since 1969.

***************************

In the summer of 1999 I attended a fire management conference at Yosemite National Park.  We stayed at the Cedar Lodge, which was notorious.  In February a woman and two teenage girls had been abducted from one of its rooms and murdered.  Just a few weeks before our visit another woman who lived near had been murdered.



Cary's booking photo

Due to some prior commitments I was a bit late to the meeting.  I parked and walked towards the conference area.  I saw a couple of guys working in a room as I walked by so I opened the door and asked if they knew where my conference was.

One of the men, I later learned that his name was Cary, came out and pointing to the proper place, gave me directions.  He was very friendly and helpful.  I saw him several more times over the next couple of days and we said hello in passing.  I did not have any significant conversations with him, although some others of our group did.

A few weeks afterwards the police solved the cases. Cary was arrested and confessed to these murders.

************************

The last “Brush with Evil” I’ll describe was actually the first I experienced.  I doubt if there is any information about this case on the internet. 

In the early 80’s I was working as a Fire Marshal, focusing on fire prevention, in Mammoth.  One of the prevention activities that we regularly performed was to visit various summer camps in the area for “Smokey Bear” presentations.  There are a number of organizations which run these summer camps – the Boy Scouts, YMCA, Boys and Girls Club, various church organizations and others.

One camp was very enthusiastic about our programs.  They rotated kids every week, so there were always new kids to teach and entertain.  We went there often, two or three times each week through the summer.  This particular camp was run by a non-profit community organization associated with a small city in LA County. 

I was really impressed with the Head Counselor at this camp.  Gabe was about 40 and really easy to work with.  The kids seemed to love him.  From what I could observe the camp was a happy, well-run place.

As it happened, one of my assistants, Jaime, was from a town adjacent to the city which sponsored the camp.  Jaime and Gabe became good friends and Jaime often went out to the camp on his own time to hang out with Gabe and the kids.  During the winter, when Jaime was in college and would visit his home, he would go over to Gabe’s “club” and play basketball with him and others.  I think Jaime even did some coaching or teaching at the “club.”

The next summer when Jaime came back to firefighting, he came to me and said, “There’s something I need to tell you.  Remember Gabe, from [the camp]?”

“Yes,” I replied, “I remember him.  I’m looking forward to working with him this summer.”

“Well, he’s not going to be here.”  Jaime was despondent.  He went on to explain that Gabe was in jail, with no possibility of bail, for child molestation.  Apparently he had been molesting children, both at his “club” in LA County as well as in Mammoth.  The police suspected that he had molested hundreds of children over the years.

I was stunned.  I had grown genuinely fond of Gabe.  To this day, I cannot reconcile my image of Gabe with the deeds he committed.  He completely fooled me and many, many others.

Fireworks Smugglers

I was once instrumental in shutting down a major fireworks smuggling ring.

In the summer of 1988 I was working as a Fire Engine Captain on the Tahoe NF in Truckee.  One day we were on our way to the west side of the Ranger District, out towards Donner Lake.  As the Engine drove along Donner Pass road, right across the road from Tahoe-Truckee High School, I saw two boys (about 10 or 12 years old) huddling next to a high wooden fence.  They were watching something on the ground by the fence.  Suddenly they both jumped up and took off down along the fence away from the road.

This, of course, caught my attention so I looked back at the spot where they’d been.  Just at the moment there was a loud crack and a puff of bluish smoke appeared.  I immediately realized that they’d set off some firecrackers.  Since it was fire season and fireworks can easily cause a forest fire, I told my Engineer to stop the Engine.  I jumped out and took off after the boys.

As I was leaving the Engine I saw them squeeze through a little space in the fence to get inside the neighboring businesses’ premises.  When I got to the place they’d gone through, I realized that it was too small for me so I hopped the fence.

As luck would have it, when I got inside the fence I found that I had cut off the boys’ escape route and easily got them into my custody.  Since this had occurred on private property and not Forest Service land, I radioed the local Fire Department.

While we were waiting for the Fire Marshall to arrive, one of my crew said, “Man, Tom, you went over that fence like you were Batman or something.”

I looked over at the fence I had scaled and it was a six-foot wooden fence.  With my adrenalin going, I had vaulted over that fence without a thought.  Now that the excitement was over, I was sure that I would struggle to repeat that action.

Our Engine Crew - at Martis Peak
Greg, Trish & Me

The Fire Marshall arrived shortly (we were only about 200 yards from the main Truckee Fire Station) and we took the boys in for questioning.

The boys were still in possession of a good number of little firecrackers. When asked where they got them, one of the boys stated that his older brother gave them to him.  He added that, “He's got a whole bunch of them.”

That was the extent of my involvement in the case, but a couple of weeks later, the Fire Marshall came by our Station.

“I wanted to tell you something about those kids you caught with the firecrackers,” he told me.

It turned out that the older brother they’d gotten the firecrackers from had a girlfriend from San Francisco.  Her family was involved in a scheme to smuggle non-California approved fireworks in from China.  The older brother was one of the “distributors.”

“We’ve gotten the California State Attorney in on this.  We have already confiscated several tons of fireworks and arrested almost a dozen people.  This was a multi-million dollar operation, but it looks like they’ve gotten most of the operators."

He also added that they believed that the illegal fireworks were responsible for a rash of fires in the Sierra foothills, some of which had burnt down homes.

Ranger Things

When you work outdoors as a Ranger and Ski Instructor, as I did for most of my life, you are very aware of the weather and the change of seasons.

Rangers have a very precise way of determining when the various seasons begin.  Summer begins the first day that you decide to eat your lunch in the shade instead of sitting in the sun.  Fall begins the day you decide to sit in the sun while eating your lunch, instead of the shade.

Winter’s first day is when you decide to sit inside your vehicle to eat lunch.  And Spring begins when you think sitting outside in the sun feels better than staying the vehicle.

***********************

 Out in the forest one day shortly after I transferred with the Forest Service to California I noticed a fern-like plant with little white flowers.  I asked a co-worker what it was called.

“Oh,” he replied, “that’s bear clover.”

What an odd name I thought, “Why do they call it that?”

He leaned on his tool for a moment, looked up at the sky and then said, “Well, I guess it’s ‘cause it’s not clover and bears don’t like it.”

***********************