Community

As one of my amusements, I'm a ham operator, N1MVM.  Hams, like other hobbyists, tend to have areas of special interest.  Mine happens to be public service and emergency communications services during disasters and lesser emergencies.  Usually, I participate in low-level events like providing communications support for non-profit fund raising events.  Other of my fellow hams have responded to tornadoes, hurricanes and more severe events that invoke the motto of Amateur Radio Emergency Service (ARES): "When all else fails"  My call this Friday was to respond to a search and rescue request in eastern Connecticut.

Eastern Connecticut is a beautiful, rural part of the state that has not yet succumbed to the sprawl that has gripped the southwest and central parts of Connecticut. A gentleman suffering dementia had gone missing three days earlier.  The resources of  his small, tight-knit community had failed to locate him. Search and rescue dogs had been employed with no success, and the past few days' rains had likely suppressed any useful scent for beneficial canine assistance.  So by Saturday, the goal was to get as many 'eyeballs on the ground' as possible, as the weather was growing colder, and the chances of a successful rescue were diminishing.

I arrived at the staging area at 6:30 a.m. as the sun was beginning to light the horizon. As I drove up Rt. 82 to the staging area, I could see various parking lots bristling with emergency vehicles: state police, various fire departments, mostly volunteer. I was surprised to see the amount of activity so early, but this was my first search and rescue experience, and the early hour made sense in order to get the most people in the field as soon as it would be productive.

I checked in with the ARES Region 4 communications van.  I was told that we would serve as backup communication if needed, but our primary role would be search.

The actual process of deployment proved more cumbersome than expected, as the emergency managers struggled to coordinate the various combinations of resources available to productive application.  It quickly became apparent to me how difficult it is to effectively apply volunteer resource to emergencies, but also how vital that is when an endeavor exceeds the resources of a small community. 

People nonetheless maintained good humor during the two hour wait in the high school gym to board buses for the second phase of deployment. Even people who had come from across the state with no attachment to the community or the family, but a desire to be of whatever help they could provide.

The subject of the search was a former member of the town's volunteer fire department. Many members of his family were also members of the department. So this was very much a family event in the extended sense that communities can be family. And it was a family event in the extended sense that first responders bear that unique kinship that few outside the profession can truly grasp.  Their ties are forged by the subliminal fear that they carry and somehow manage to suppress every time they are routinely called to face danger.

A young lady who was a member of the family was assisting in coordinating the selection and dispatch of teams from the high school gym.  She went about her business with the professionalism her family would expect, and with an outward cheer that projected optimism while covering the sense of dread that must have filled the dark recesses of her mind where experience retained the awareness of the odds against success at this stage in the process.

We were transported by 9:30 a.m. to the Ops Center where final credentialing, team assembly and orientation would occur before deployment.  An hour later I was assigned to one of the last teams of ten to go into the field. Each team was comprised of two professional first responders, fire or paramedics, and an ATV. We received our safety vests (for visibility in the field),  safety briefing, tactical radios and instructions for our area of search. In our group were two fire fighters from another community, a family member, other town residents, and myself.

Our instructions were to fan out in a line extending 100 yards from Town Road, sweep north to School Road, and then return south along Town Road in the same fashion to the Ops Center.  The route included homes with spacious lawns interspersed among dense brush and wetlands we needed to go through, not around.  The dense brush and wetlands reminded me of what I neglected to remember when I responded to the call for volunteers: I'm wicked bad out of shape.  Not news; just a painful reminder.

Halfway through our sweep I heard the first call over my portable radio that the search was being suspended; a laconic indication that the gentleman had been found, and not in the manner we all hoped. Moments later, the status was confirmed over the tactical frequencies and we were instructed to return to the Ops Center. We disengaged at 12:30 p.m. without official word of confirmation, as authorities were still processing the scene. Official confirmation was released to the media later that afternoon.

*  *  *

I learned a lot that morning. It was my first search and rescue deployment; by definition, a learning experience.  I learned by observation the strengths and weaknesses of an Incident Command System in a small community crisis. I learned that my gear was not the best for a search and rescue assignment.  I was reminded how out of shape I am.

But most important of all, I observed the true meaning of community.  When All Else Fails....it is community that is our last hope and refuge and comfort from fate's indifferent judgments.  Amid the death, destruction, greed and callousness, mutilation of truth and fact that fill the daily news, the enduring and immutable truth is that there are still good people willing to come together to help each other in making life and, yes, even death, a little easier to bear.

Onward

20111023