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Boundary Waters Search and Rescue: Beyond Belief

By Joy Harding

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PART 1
By Divine
Appointment

CHAPTER 1
The Gathering Storm
Listening to the wind howl, Dr. Jack Lockwood was grateful
for the solid walls surrounding him. He’d been particular when
he’d built his half-log home outside of Ely the year before. Northern
Minnesota was no place to dabble with flimsy siding and unreliable
heat. As was his habit, he’d done extensive research. Then he’d spent
the extra money and installed geothermal heat and electricity powered
by sun and wind.
Looking around the room, Jack was pleased with his choices.
The generously sized kitchen and the living area with its wood stove
flowed together to accommodate gatherings of friends. His study and
a full bath shared the front of the house with the dining area. The loft
and bath upstairs housed guests—with plenty of room even when his
brother’s family of six visited. The master suite was at the back of the
house and included a library with a sitting area, his bath, and his bedroom.
In this area, his private sanctuary, he departed from common
sense just enough to include a wood-burning fireplace. He knew that
conventional fireplaces sucked up more warm air than they provided,
but he just couldn’t build a northwoods home without a fireplace
that burned real logs. This one was a work of art, constructed with
local river rock by a stone mason from Ely. Jack’s years in Montana
and Colorado had convinced him that the loss of heat was worth the
ambiance and smell of a crackling fire. It also helped resale value,
Joy Harding BOUNDARY WATERS SEARCH AND RESCUE
12 13
especially when it came to city dwellers with romantic notions of
moving to the country.
Jack jumped when the two-way radio in the study emitted its
distinctive warble. His cell phone sat silent on the desk, but in this
remote location the reception could be dicey, especially when the
weather was bad.
“Dispatch to Lockwood, over.”
Jack wondered at the note of urgency in Dan’s tone. It wasn’t
even 6:00 a.m. and his friend and business partner already had his
knickers in a knot about something. “Lockwood here. I’ll be leaving
shortly.” Jack frowned when Dan didn’t reply immediately.
“Dispatch, did you copy?”
“Yes, I copy.” Dan sounded a bit disgusted. “Jack, have you even
looked outside since you woke up?”
“Of course I looked outside,” Jack sputtered. “I know it’s snowing,
but this is Minnesota. It snows. I know how to drive in this
stuff and Hildy will make it through anything.” Hildy—short for
Hildegard—was Jack’s large four-wheel drive SUV. Outfitted with
medical equipment and supplies as well as rescue gear, it had thus far
proved adequate for everything Minnesota had thrown at him.
“Trust me when I say it is a big deal and it’s not just the snow,”
Dan countered. “The predicted front hit earlier than expected and
now it’s stalled right over us. Up until a couple of hours ago this stuff
was coming down as freezing rain, to the tune of about two inches
of solid ice coating everything. Since then we’ve had about six inches
of heavy wet snow, and it’s not going to stop anytime soon. Gale
force winds are causing white-outs across the entire region, and wind
chills into the double-digit below zero range. Trees and power lines
are down from here to the Canadian border and south to Duluth. So
stay put!”
Jack glanced out the window. It was dark outside—not surprising
since sunrise was almost two hours away. “Hang on a sec,” he told
Dan. Dropping the microphone on the desk, Jack pulled open the
front door, couldn’t see much through the storm door, so he pulled
that open. The raw wind nearly blew him back into the house. Dan
was right—the wind was strong and was blowing the snow sideways.
Jack stepped onto the porch, but before he finished his second step,
he landed hard on his backside, the composite decking so slippery he
couldn’t maintain his footing. Crawling back inside, he slammed the
door, and returned to the radio. “Okay, it’s cold and windy out there
and you’re right about the ice. If I can get to the garage, I’ll take the
snowmobile. You’re going to need all the help you can get. This is
going to be a mess.”
“Jack!” Dan exclaimed. “I need you to stay where you are. It’s
already a mess out there and you can’t help me by wrapping yourself
around a tree and slowly freezing to death.”
“I can take care of myself,” Jack protested stubbornly, “and…”
A loud crash shook the house. He ran for the door, then, his lesson
learned, he shuffled across the porch and down the stairs, swinging
his flashlight. One of the eighty-year-old pines on his property had
fallen victim to the wind and was now on the ground and blocking
his access road. Driving out was no longer an option, at least not
until he could see to run a chainsaw.
After he got back inside, Jack picked up the microphone again.
“Dan, are you still there? I lost one of the big trees by the drive. I can’t
get to the highway, at least not in Hildy. I’ll try to get the snowmobile
out once it’s light.”
Dan said something rude under his breath. “I’m here, and I’m
getting really tired of repeating myself! Stay home, Jack. I’m not kidding!
The National Guard is helping us get people off the roads and
every user in the Boundary Waters1 that’s on the books is out and
safe. God help anyone who just wandered in without registering at
the ranger station. Law enforcement all over the northern half of the
state have closed roads. Once we get everyone to shelter, all we’re
going to do is stay inside—insofar as possible—until we can safely
do our jobs, which according to the weather service is going to be
anywhere from three to four days. Harrison out!”
Jack frowned at the abrupt sign-off. Dan needed his help.
However, Jack knew enough about survival in these conditions to
think twice about disregarding his friend’s advice—order. For that’s
what it had been, an order from the police chief of the small town
where Jack lived. Still, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to disobey that kind of
order if he really believed he could get to his snowmobile, start it,
and then find his way safely into town under current conditions. He
knew the surrounding country well, but if he lost his way in the snow
and wind, he would become one more emergency for Dan and the
Guard to cope with on a morning that had already stretched them
dangerously thin. He also knew that things had to be bad for Dan to
request assistance from the Guard—especially when it was only the
third week in November.
After pouring another cup of coffee, Jack turned on the television.
Although he had electricity and satellite service, he got nothing
but static as he flipped through the 101 channels his carrier claimed
to offer. Tossing the remote into a basket, he muttered, “So much
for that. Guess it’s going to be a reading kind of day.” With a start,
he realized that he’d already resigned himself to staying where he was
until the weather abated. Dan knew Jack’s abilities. The fact that he’d
told Jack to stay where he was drove home how bad the conditions
were outside.
Settling onto the sofa in the study, Jack sipped his coffee, relaxing
as he watched the swirling flakes outside the window. It scarcely
seemed possible that he was back in the middle of a Minnesota blizzard.
He’d never expected to be away from the Midwest for so long,
but relocating had become part of the pattern of his professional life.
Things might have been different had Ellie lived. They’d both
loved the city of Minneapolis from the time they’d arrived, just after
they were married, so that he could finish his medical education. Jack
remembered their excitement when he’d completed his residencies
in emergency medicine and surgical critical care at the University of
Minnesota and found out that he’d landed his dream job as a trauma
surgeon at the Hennepin County Medical Center. He’d happily
accepted the position and they’d made plans to stay in Minneapolis.
The two of them settled into a comfortable life and had just
purchased their first home when Jack opened their door late one
November night and a uniformed officer tore his world apart in the
space of five seconds. A fiery crash on an icy roadway had taken Ellie
without even giving him the chance to say goodbye. The joy and
sense of belonging she’d given him were abruptly and irretrievably
gone. He’d coped with her death the only way he knew how. He
worked harder and longer than anyone on his team to numb the pain
of loss.
Jack’s hard work paid off, and less than eighteen months later,
he found himself the department head for the entire emergency medical
unit of the largest trauma center in the state. Although people
tried to convince him that the position was an honor, especially at his
young age, he’d hated it from the start. He’d been nothing more than
a glorified bureaucrat. Even when he did have patients, there was no
getting to know them. His time had become too valuable to ‘waste’
on single-patient care. Somehow, he’d become a medical demi-god
directing others without touching the people he saved. Minneapolis
and his position at the Hennepin County Medical Center no longer
felt like home.
Leaving behind an empty house filled with happy memories
and sad, awkward interactions with Ellie’s grieving family, Jack had
moved on, accepting a position at the opposite end of the spectrum
from a well-staffed, well-equipped urban hospital. While many
believed the position was a step down for him, the rural practice on
the high plains of Montana had been the perfect place to restore his
faith in the practice of medicine while soothing his blistered spirit.
Doctor Donald Sloan, his business partner, became a mentor of the
finest sort—showing Jack what it meant to have the soul of a true
healer.
Their practice spread out over miles, and mornings often found
Jack in Don’s ancient truck, jouncing over gravel roads to remote
farmsteads. House calls were still a way of life in this place. His
patients had faces and names. Jack knew their families and they’d
welcomed him into their lives as both physician and friend.
It was here that he’d met Dan Harrison, the twice-divorced,
dark-haired, dark-eyed chief of police of the small town where their
clinic was located and also a Gulf War honed helicopter pilot. Early
on, when Jack had needed help transporting a patient from a remote
ranch, Dan had flown them both to the nearest hospital. After that,
the police chief and the department’s helicopter became an integral
part of their medical practice, allowing them to respond quickly to
emergencies in remote locations and to airlift patients whose illness
or injuries required care beyond what they could offer.
Months turned into years and Jack never looked back until the
day Donald died. A massive stroke ended the older man’s life as he was
returning home from church one Sabbath morning. Shortly thereafter,
Dan left town, accepting a position as a detective in Denver,
Colorado. A new police chief took Dan’s place, the freeway came to
town, they broke ground for a new clinic affiliated with a large health
system, and Jack knew that his time in this place was coming to an
end. It wasn’t home anymore.
Jack was considering a move back to the Midwest when Dan
Harrison had called him. The idea of establishing partnerships
between law enforcement and physicians had stuck with him. Urban
police departments lost too many people to accidents and assaults
because of the time lag between the arrival of officers and the onset
of medical help. Now captain at one of the largest precincts in the
Denver Metro area, Dan wanted Jack to come to Denver and help
him create a combined service, first responder program similar to
the one they’d formed in Montana. The way Ellie had died—gravely
injured and unable to move in the center of an icy freeway—prompted
Jack to accept Dan’s offer. The pilot program they developed rapidly
expanded throughout the Front Range metro area, the numbers of
lives the combined service saved speaking for itself.
Jack and Dan worked tirelessly, hiring and training applicants,
including established physicians, veterans on the police force, and
those fresh from their medical education or the police academy, then
sharing their methodology with other cities. But Jack never gave up
working shifts on the streets. He was making a difference saving lives,
and a part of him felt like he was honoring his late wife by doing this
kind of work.
It was just over two years ago that Jack made what he vowed
would be his final cross-country move—the move that brought him
home to Minnesota. He was by nature an introvert and the older he
got, the harder it became to start fresh in a new location.
Ely, Minnesota, was a town on the edge of the Boundary Waters
Canoe Area Wilderness. Between its proximity to a wilderness area
regularly used by non-experts in outdoor safety and the extreme and
changeable weather northern Minnesota was famous for, Ely emergency
services often coped with injuries and rescue situations unusual
for a small town. The local hospital, local law enforcement, and the
United States Forest Service had hired him and Dan to bring their
expertise to this remote area to create a combined-service search and
rescue team dedicated to the Boundary Waters Wilderness.
Thanks to his time at the Colorado Police Academy, Jack carried
a badge. He was experienced in police procedure and proficient
in the use of firearms, but before taking on co-leadership of
the new program, he’d passed a military-caliber training course in
outdoor survival and tracking. Dan, who was now the chief of police
in Ely, had passed the same course and had also earned his EMT
certification.
It was interesting that circumstance had brought Jack full circle
just as his second half-century of life began. He was again working in
a dream job in Minnesota, this time one that combined his gift for
medicine, his passion for rescue, and his love for the outdoors. The
work was varied and challenging. His team had rescued families lost
deep in the wilderness, treating their injuries as they’d guided them
out, or set up an evac via helicopter, float plane, amphibious vehicle,
or canoe. When he wasn’t on call for search and rescue, he enjoyed
his position as an emergency medicine physician and trauma surgeon
at Ely Bloomenson Community Hospital (EBCH).
The last two years hadn’t given Jack any reason to regret the
move—not career-wise or on a personal level. As much as he’d
enjoyed the mountains, he loved the north country wilderness and
Lake Superior’s rocky north shore even more. In the late summer,
Dan had married Beth Erickson, an energetic, silvery-blond sprite
with bright blue eyes. A full-blooded Norwegian, she owned a local
bakery and coffee shop, the Northern Lights Café, in Ely. Jack had
rejoiced with them, glad that Dan had finally found someone to
share his life after two disastrous early marriages. In his shallower
moments, Jack also appreciated that his friend had chosen someone
who knew how to make a great cup of coffee.
The three of them were extremely close. They shared a common
love of cross-country skiing, climbing, and canoeing that kept them
entertained when they weren’t working. Their bond was so strong
that Jack seldom felt like a third wheel. While he missed having a
romantic relationship with a special someone, it didn’t leave him aching
as it once had, and he was content.
Relaxing deeper into the down-filled cushions, Jack considered
going back to bed, but although it was just after five-thirty in the
morning, he wasn’t very tired. He routinely got up early, went for a
hike, or did a cross-country ski circuit before going into work. Jack
took fitness very seriously especially given his age and the physical
demands of search and rescue. His appearance was an asset in his
chosen field. To people in trouble, he looked old enough to have the
knowledge they needed him to have and fit enough to guide them
through any physical challenges facing them. Right now, he wanted
to do the job he’d trained most of his life for, helping those in need.
Yet here he sat, sidelined by the weather and a well-meaning police
chief.
Jack was still considering his options for the unexpected, unwelcome
day off, when a black, furry form jumped into his lap, nearly
spilling his coffee. Setting the mug on the end table, he smiled and
scratched the green-eyed cat behind her ears. “Well, good morning to
you too, Binx. It looks like we’re going to have a quiet day together.”
Jack swore he saw Binx smile as she turned around in his lap precisely
three times, then plopped down with a soft “meow.” When she
started to purr, Jack’s eyelids drooped. It was warm and quiet.

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