- Recovery

Gary pulled up to the volunteer fire building in Hebron.  Dick was already there and had the truck running and the heater warmed up.  Gary flipped the collar of his heavy and warm turn-out jacket up to circle around his neck and rubbed his gloved hands together.  It was cold, and early.  Too early for this, but these things were never convenient.

His job as a volunteer fire fighter kept life interesting, at least - a diversion from his regular job as a mail carrier in Hebron and nearby Belvedere, as well as the surrounding rural areas.  Being a volunteer fireman broke up the monotony on occasion, even if the job was sometimes sad or tragic.  Of course he didn’t create the tragedy; he just helped clean it up.  Someone had to.

The call about the plane crash had come in from the Sheriff about a half hour ago.  He didn’t know much; just that a family had gone down and there was some hub-bub at the hospital with the survivors.  He had never heard of a crash around here with survivors.  But like with most of them there was death, too.  His orders were to retrieve the body of a woman still out there in the field where the wreck happened.

He greeted Dick, and then slid in the passenger side of the big truck.  They backed out of the driveway and headed out towards the old pond where they had reported the wreckage to be.  He knew right where it was, and had been out that way many times over the years.  They turned north on highway 81, past Monument road, then turned left onto a dirt road that intersected the highway.  He had no way of knowing that it was the same road dad had lurched down a couple of hours prior. 

Slowly they drove over the rough surface, occasionally slowing to shine their powerful spotlight over the darkened ground adjacent to the road.  When they reached the pond, the moved slowly off the road, and across the dike that extended onto the field.  Their headlights picked up the wreckage almost immediately.

“Jesus Christ!” Dick muttered.  He stopped the truck and they stared at the wreckage for a few moments, taking in the utter devastation that lay before them.  Slowly, they got out of the truck, and armed with high power hand lights, walked across the field towards the corpse of the plane.  Gary looked it over for a few minutes, and then turned to his right to move along the tree line, shining his light through the branches.  Eventually he came to the spot where the plane had gone through the trees.  There was a wide gap that the plane had carved it as it slammed through.  Trees lay broken and laid over and brush was strewn all around, mingling with scraps of metal and debris. 

To the right he spotted what appeared to be the left wing of the plane, lying tangled in the thick brush in a crumpled heap.  He shined is light up 20 feet into a large tree nearby and saw where the wing had impacted it, ripping the top 10 or so feet off and flinging it several yards away.  The tree was about 5 inches thick, and the force that sheared it off had to be incredible.

He turned and observed the rest of the newly established clearing.  The other wing lay in a pile of brush and branches on the ground, mangled.  All manner of other debris was strewn around the trees and had been carried out onto the field by the forward momentum of the impact.  He considered the plumb thicket that surrounded the thin forest.  A section of it along the obvious path we had followed was smashed down.  Apparently, we had slammed into the trees, and as the plane spun to the left, it’s inertia was taken and it dropped onto the bushy and thick plumb trees.  They must have acted like a cushion as the plane smashed through them, he thought.  That’s why, incredibly, the plane wasn’t ripped apart when it hit the hard packed ground of the field.

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself.  “If you were going to crash a plane, that’s the way to do it.”

His thoughts were cut short by Dick’s shout over by the main hulk of the wreckage.

“Gary!” he called out.  “I found her!”

Gary made his way toward the bright spot of Dick’s light, where he stood over a white bulge on the ground.  Both of them had seen their share of bodies before, but it was always a bit of a shock to see the seemingly infinite forms that death can leave a person in.  This would be no different.  They weren’t machines in this job.  They were painfully cognizant of the fact that those whom they recovered were once living breathing entities, usually only a short time prior. 

Now they stood over the body of my mom, and had their own thoughts about her…someone’s wife, someone’s daughter, someone’s mother.  No doubt she never would have foreseen that her life would end here, literally frozen to the ground - dead in this field.  Who could imagine that?

Dick stooped down and lifted the small blanket that covered her and tossed it aside, exposing the horror of her death to the glare of the bright lights that they carried.  There was little doubt in either of their minds that she had died quickly.  She probably died in the plane, before she was ejected, or maybe in the process of being ejected. 

Either way, judging by the speed of impact indicated by the path of destruction Gary had seen, she never even knew what hit her.  At least there was some comfort in that.  Neither of them cared much for the idea of suffering, after all.

She certainly did not suffer.

Dick left Gary with her, and went back to the truck, starting it up and bringing it over near where she lay.  He extracted from the back a modified stretcher, known as a scoop.  It was a typical basket-like stretcher, but was split down the middle and could be separated into two sections.  One could separate the sections of the scoop and place it on either side of the victim, then work it closed under them. 

He separated the sections and placed them on both sides of mom.  Then, gently lifting and sliding the sides inward and carefully breaking the icy bonds that held her fast to the frozen earth of the field, they worked the scoop closed.  Gary gingerly shifted her stiff body as necessary to aid Dick, who then put the safety pins in place securing the scoop closed. 

Finally, she could be taken from that place. 

They covered her remains with a heavy wool blanket, which they gently tucked around and under her.  Then they stooped and lifted the stretcher and carefully carried it to the back of the truck, sliding it into the interior and latching it down. 

They drove in relative silence to the hospital, speaking only to express the disbelief at what they had seen in the field.  It was hard to believe anyone had survived that.  They had seen no shortage of gruesome and nasty accidents in the farms, fields, train tracks, and roads around here, but that scene was truly amazing to both of them.  Every one in that plane should have been killed.  Life is funny that way, they both thought. 

Eventually, they pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital without fanfare and quietly carried the basket containing mom into the emergency area.  The staff stood around, some of whom were preparing the little kids to be moved.  Gary overheard they would be flown by helicopter to Lincoln. 

Most of the staff just watched.  A broken and bloody form of a man stood over one of the children watching intently as the staff stood by.  It wasn’t at all what Gary would have pictured this type of accident to be like.

A young sheriff stood by watching as well, standing near the man, talking gently to him.  Marilyn saw them come in and moved over to Gary.

“Just put her there,” she said, pointing to an out of the way spot near the admission desk.  “We’ll take care of her from here.”

Gary and Dick obliged, gently placing the basket on the floor.  Gary considered it for a moment.  The form under the heavy blanket suddenly looked so small.  He looked around at the man and the little kids, all of whom had been dragged through the worst that night, from what he’d seen at the crash site. 

He suddenly he felt sad for them.  He had brought a family back together again for the last time, but he wished it could have been different.  You just never get used to this.

Dick patted his shoulder as he passed. 

“Let’s go,” he said.  Gary followed him out of the hospital into the cold night.  He took a deep breath of the cold, sharp air.  They had done their job.  Now they could go home.

He paused to look through the blood smeared glass of the entrance doors to the emergency room at the family beyond once more.  His heart went out to them, and he hoped those kids would be alright.  Then he turned and walked away, not looking back.