Roger Ellis: AK-239

“Grab the rope!”

As this perfect stranger hurdles toward me on his back, I wrap the rope around my waist and think,

Goodbye cruel world!

Miraculously, the guy hits my rope and the rope tangles onto his arm as he now rolls.

Unfortunately for me I didn’t have time to calculate the inertia that would be involved in my stupidity. I’m immediately catapulted into the air on the other end of the rope, flying downhill.

Now both of us idiots are going to die today! I thought.

I struggle to get the ice pick into the ice but instead it’s acting more like a ceiling fan whirling dangerously around my head, the sharp edge coming closer and closer.

Everything is now in slow motion.

Nice move, JD! I’m gonna die twice today! Once with my own icepick and then again in the crevasse!

I’m finally able to grab the handle of the ice pick but this is now the least of my worries.

In a second I’m going to hit the crevasse but first we both go flying over the smaller Bergshrund crevasse as though it’s not even there!

The bloody body of this poor guy I’m attached to has been sliced like sushi over ice.

What am I thinking? In about two seconds I’m probably going to look worse than that! I snap back from feeling sorry for myself as I hear and see some jagged rocks rip off what’s left of this poor guy’s University of Oregon t-shirt as he hurls into the crevasse.

Dragging closely behind, I somehow manage to stop just short of going into the abyss as well. Fortunately, my old Richard Bass parka and ski pants have paid off, as they are still on me and in one piece!

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, I don’t wanna die,” says this bloody mass something now barely resembling a human.

Now I’m feeling just as hysterical but I take a deep breath and then flat on my stomach holding the rope and one arm I calmly say,

“What’s your name?”

“Trevor,” answers a quivering voice.

We’re both dead.

Of course, I only thought that. I would never ever show this. Sixteen years of Navy SEAL training and one year of FBI psychology profiling comes rushing into my brain. I take another deep breath and say,

“Ok Trevor. I’m gonna get you outta here but we’ve gotta work together, okay?”

Trevor nods slightly.

I then begin pulling Trevor out of the crevasse.

But just as I’m about to free Trevor, I hear a girl’s voice behind me yelling and screaming.

I turn my head just in time to see Trevor’s hiking partner trying to run down this steep, forty-five degree chute! I start yelling,

“Stop! Stop!”

But it’s too late.

Trevor’s girlfriend falls and begins sliding head first toward them.

As I turn my head again, Trevor has already heard his girlfriend falling and has pulled out a knife.

Trevor then calmly says,

“Save her, save her, please!”

“I’m not letting go. You don’t have to do this.”

Her screams are getting closer and closer and now I have the decision of my life.

Trevor says, “Do something great with your life. I did.”

In that split second I did not understand what Trevor was saying. So I say,

“What?”

Trevor then cut through the rope and fell into the blackness.

I remember screaming,

“NO!”

But it’s too late.

Trevor is gone and all I can hear is that blood-curdling scream. Trevor’s last echo on planet earth seems to take forever to stop. I will live to the day I die with that sound haunting my head. I had been told I was brave before but in an instant I feel like a helpless child.

Standing, frozen in place, all I can think about is:

My God! I just killed someone. I should’ve pulled harder, faster.

Seemingly, minutes go by but that’s impossible. It was seconds. But in those seconds passed eternity and Trevor’s screams were still echoing in my head.

Then, in an instant, I was back hearing a second set of screams hurling toward me.

She was flying like an alpine bobsled directly toward me, face first.

I stood up and ran, like an idiot, toward her and, without thinking, I dove for this poor helpless woman whose t-shirt, body and jeans are already mangled and bloody. She had no gloves and her hands, trying to grab ice and snow, are bleeding.

What am I thinking?

I thought as I flew dramatically over the top of her, grabbing her shoulder and arm for just a split second.

She sailed right passed me but in that split second I was able to grab her shoulder and arm just long enough to stop her from going into the crevasse.

This area, fortunately, is almost flat but jagged rocks still protrude through the snow.

And, unfortunately, this poor girl has hit her head on one of them.

I ran to her unconscious, lifeless, body.

I took off my parka and put it under her head.

I then quickly checked for a breath or a heartbeat.

Now the sulfur gases begin to engulf us and I remember starting to cough.

Some distance parallel to us I hear,

“You need help?”

I ignored them thinking,

“They’ll figure it out!”

Now every Navy SEAL must pass a basic medical life-saving course but I start thinking,

That was over sixteen years ago! What do I do next?

I try to breath some life into this young woman, who could be no more than 21 years old. I now hear others yelling behind me and can hear someone talking to the 911 operator. I stopped breathing for her and again checked for a pulse.

Finally!

I was able to feel a faint heartbeat on her neck. I remember coughing again thinking,

Wouldn’t it be ironic if I died and she lives?

Who said I was brave and heroic?

I suddenly realized just how selfish human nature is. But it’s also in our nature to help others.

So I looked around for a place to move her.

A group of climbers now arrive. The first guy couldn’t be more than eighteen.

“Hey man, is she dead?”

“No, did you call 911?” I answered.

Then the kid hands me his phone,

“Ya, they want to talk to you.”

“My name is John Denning. I’m an FBI Special Agent. We have a female, approximately 21 years of age. She’s barely breathing and unconscious. She fell a few hundred feet down ice, multiple lacerations, maybe broken bones. She looks to have hit her head and is in critical condition.”

Then I look at the kid who gave me his cell phone and ask,

“Can they call back on this number?

“Ya, Ya, sure.”

I then say to the operator,

“Okay. Get them here ASAP. Were you able to pull GPS coordinates from this phone? Okay, good! We’ll set up a landing zone.”

I looked over to the mangled mess of a girl and hiding a tear in my eye I said,

“Hurry. Please.”

I hand the phone back to its owner while I hold the unconscious girl’s head in my hands.

The teen with the phone asks, “What did they say?”

I ignored him as I try to take care of the girl.

Suddenly, the thought crosses my mind,

She might die and I don’t even know her name.

A crowd of nine other looky-loos have traversed to us, just to watch this girl die.

Later I got mad thinking,

No one. Not one asked or even tried to help.

But what I really became worried about next were the sulfur fumes.

“We’ve gotta get her away from here. The chopper will be in the air in three minutes!”

Several kids finally helped me pick up the unconscious girl and move her.

After she’s been moved I looked into the crevasse that just took a young man’s life.

I suddenly felt nothing. No worry. No sadness. Nothing. That didn’t last long.

As I looked down the majestic mountain I saw what every climber on Mt. Hood fears, a huge storm is about to hit. As the storm rapidly flies up the side of the mountain the kid’s cell phone rings and the kid answers.