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Three children missing
By Jim
Fairchild
The pager
activated at 1805, just as I was pondering future
training sessions for the unit. I called Walt and
learned that three children were missing and to
meet at the County Park, nothing more. As a Call
Captain I attempted to reach the four men I'm
responsible for, then drove to the fire station
on Riverside Ave., transferred gear to the No. 2
van, and was rolling along the freeway by 1825.
Darkness fell as Kody, my dog, and I proceeded
easterly along Highway 60. Contacts by radio with
No. 1 van (Kevin driving) obtained no additional
information. Our base was to be at the Riverside
County Park's Visitor Center, about a mile up the
road from Idyllwild toward Pine Cove. Actually,
both vans arrived at base together, and we
immediately were faced with trying to gather
pertinent information and putting together
assignments so as to enter the field as quickly
and intelligently as we could.
It turns out
that Bob Muir, a long-time resident of Pine Cove
and a volunteer fireman with whom we've worked
numerous times in the past, is the grandfather of
two of the missing children. The children's
father, Rob Muir, is in contracting business with
his father. I encountered Bob early on at the
Visitor Center parking lot and we gathered
information. Kevin sort of wanted to escape base
and go into the field, but I was Mr. Bad and said
he must stay there to get a handle on things and
keep it.
Other RMRU
members arrived and we formed teams, loaded our
packs with necessary gear, and took off on
assignments. Cameron Robbins, Kody, and I were to
be driven to the house from which the children
disappeared, the place last seen (PLS). This
accomplished, we looked for the tracks supposedly
nearby, they were just disturbances. A couple
hundred yards uphill and along a snow run-off
stream a small track was marked, but it had no
print. Our chauffeur went back to base, and we
three snooped around the hillside. On a dirt road
we found little tracks, big tracks, and dog
tracks. All along I wanted to ascend the Deer
Springs Trail to well above any recent tracks of
those who looked for the children prior to
calling RMRU. It seemed logical that if they went
east or west cabins would be encountered, if they
went south the highway would probably stop them,
so north remained - a steepening hillside leading
to all sorts of adventures. This they chose. But
they had, by now, at least six hours head start,
and they weren't leaving any notes, trail tape,
or stacked rocks with arrows.
Anyway, we
clambered up a steep hillside of dirt, Kody got a
scent, and soon led us to Joe Erickson and Mark
Hebert, who were puzzling over various prints
that had been recently circled by the local
searchers. Soon, we continued upward to look
along some ancient logging roads I knew would
have their tracks if they went west of the trail.
Sure enough, small tracks were about a hundred
yards west of the trail, but they confusedly went
west, then back east, then south. Searcher tracks
of lug-soled boots covered them quite a bit. Hal
Fulkman, Mel Krug, Joe and Mark came up to help
unscramble. As we headed down one old road
southerly, Bernie McIlvoy showed up, and it was
time to get the dog into less frequented areas.
Cameron found tracks of quite identifiable nature
heading north-easterly, and we radioed our
conviction that the tracks belonged to Jeff Muir,
6, sister Lauren Muir, 4, and Christopher Rain
Murray, 5. Print characteristics finally had been
observed in good soil, and we began the chase.
Two firemen from the Pine Cove Fire Station
showed up. So did big clumps of manzanita and
golden oak. Many times we had to split up to
"cut" for tracks. This means we make a
big half-circle either side of and ahead of what
appeared to be the direction taken by the
children. Kody's nose helped a great deal during
this early phase of tracking by following the
scent over ground where we would have had to go
"print-to-print," probably using my
large magnifying glass. After a half-mile and
onto much steeper terrain, always on a bee-line.
But where? just up and northerly. while we were
warm from the exertion, the temperature was
lowering, we knew little kiddies' bodies could
cool rapidly when they stopped or fell. We
carefully tracked so as to catch anyplace where
they could have made radical turns, they made
none. Small snow patches were reached as we got
to about 7200' el. and before long we found
little tracks at their edges. We got together for
group yells frequently, but the many runoff
streams would make it improbable that we could
hear them answer from as far away as a hundred
yards. well, the snow patches got larger and
their tramping on them was more frequent. It was
certainly a relief to know that we would catch
them soon if they persisted uphill, which they
did. But really, the stuff they went over! Steep,
lichen-covered boulders, slippery slopes of pine
needles, and under shrubbery that repelled
adults. Even Kody went around some of the
obstacles. His master (?) lumbered along with
fifty pounds of gear. The other RMRU men had
lighter packs, the firemen none. At one point I
stopped to rest Kody, and guess who else. I put
down for him to lie on a sleeping bag to be used
as a scent article if Kody's nose were our only
means of following, and he immediately sniffed
diligently, indicating he was familiar with that
scent. The bag belonged to Rain.
We continued
upward. At about 8300' el. where we could tell
the angle eased to a fairly flat area for two
hundred yards, we yelled. Squeaky chirps answered
immediately, and there they were, standing on the
only snow-free spot for quite a ways. Upon
reaching them Mel, Hal, and Tom, a fireman and
uncle of Jeff, opened their clothing systems and
hugged the children close to share warmth. I
understand there was a fair amount of elation at
base as Cameron radioed the long awaited news. It
was 0210, Tues., April 18. The kiddies won't
remember, but the parents might. Packs were
opened and their contents of sweaters, parkas,
and sleeping bags quickly employed to bundle the
found and the finders. Insulation pads went under
to insulate against the frozen ground covered
with pine needles. Cam got a stove going, then
Hal handed Rain to me and started his. Warm soups
and drinks were greatly appreciated by the
children and us. I draped Rain's sleeping bag
over both of us, and Kody knows what an
insulation pad is as well as warm sleeping bags,
and tried to quit shivering. The excitement and
happiness over finding the children caused
shivering at least as much as the 22 deg. F.
temperature. Rain went to sleep in my arms as did
Jeff in Tom's and Lauren in Mel's. I shall never
cease praising the Lord for that scene! It's my
opinion that had we not found them until dawn,
tragic results would have made a different
ending. Small childrens' bodies can cool fast,
and they might not have survived evacuation. We
had removed their clothing within minutes of
reaching them, their wet socks and shoes, and
garments were wicking away warmth. The air was
still all night. Had winds blown, the children
would have been well into hypothermia when we got
to them, not just shivering a lot.
After a while we laid all three of
them, looking like cocoons, on pads and let them
snore. Kevin at base wanted to know if any
helispot was close by, and we looked, nothing but
marginal ones. We opted to carry the children
out. Good thing too, because after dawn those
marginal helispots looked definitely prohibitive.
As the
children slept we marveled, "They got all
the way up here!" That was real persistence.
Time usually
flies where you're having a good time, but not on
this particular night. We listened to various
teams radio transmissions as they returned to
base, then shivered out the silence until the
first hint of dawn backlighted Marion Mountain
high above. Finally, Tahquitz Peak got a bit
rosy, the huge, tall pines and firs around us
began to shine in a friendly way. By using
shredded incense cedar bark and candle stubs,
ignited by hurricane matches, a fire was burning
and it sure felt good. Time to think about the
descent. Jeff had told us upon finding him that
they had gone looking for their fort. I wondered
if he dreamed about it. He also innocently asked
us if we knew how big an adventure he led Rain
and Lauren on? Yes, we did.
Upon emerging from their warm
coverings they sleepily contemplated the morning.
More food and drink was forthcoming, and we began
to pack. Kody was up and trying to decide upon
which tree(s) to visit. We redressed the children
in their fire-dried clothing.
Bernie arrived
suddenly, bringing the Trogsitz, a pack-like
device used to carry someone on one's back. I
picked up Jeff to put him in it, and he suddenly
went limp and weighed two hundred pounds. I put
him down and looked at his face, all red.
"You really don't want to be carried, do
you?" "No." O.K. We put a grateful
Rain in the Trogsitz. Tom carried Lauren, Bernie
carried Rain, and Mel led Jeff. A super beautiful
morning, a wonderful climax to walk them down. In
a mile or so Richard, Rain's father, showed up
and took Rain in the Trogsitz. He loped down the
trail at about five miles per hour, went out of
sight, and thus gave cause for concern. Kody and
I decided to catch him to forestall any problem.
It took a while doing that, then we loped along
with them. A short mile from base we met Kevin
with quite a delegation ascending to meet the
rest of the children and searchers.
Back at base
there were a lot of smiles on happy people. I
thought back to the earliest years of RMRU when
most of our missions were for lost children, and
the highly emotional circumstances that prevailed
during and after finding them. We've had a much
lower percentage of child searches in recent
years, perhaps because of a greater awareness of
how quickly they can disappear.
A lot of us
went down to Jans for breakfast where
feelings of thankfulness and satisfaction filled
us at least as much as the food. The children ate
and talked almost as if nothing extraordinary had
occurred. I wonder where that fort is that they
were looking for?
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