My Storm Story, Part II

My Storm Story, Part I

“What?” was my immediate response. Stopping cutting operations was just not an option. “Who ordered it?”

“Chief says we get off the highway until morning. We won’t be cutting until then.” The district’s fire chief, who’d I’d seen and talked to when we picked the patient up, were ordering his men off the highway. The plan was to park us at the nearest fire station about a mile back, and wait out the worst of the storm.

The cell towers were still operational so I placed a call to my supervisor at the other end of the county and gave her a report: the fire department had stopped cutting and we were returning to their station.

My supervisor, for her part, would do her best to put together a plan for us. For me, my priority was my patient. I advised the receiving trauma hospital that we were delayed indefinitely and that they could release their trauma team until we radioed another update.

My partner turned the ambulance around and followed the fire department’s brush unit down the highway. We turned down a short gravel drive and approached the little 3-bay station. They would leave the brush unit out so we could occupy the bay. The three firemen followed us into the bay and then closed the door behind us. It was the first break we’d had from the storm since we’d pulled the patient out of the house almost an hour before.

The supervisor called shortly after and told me that a plan had come together. The paid firefighters from the west end of the highway (the other side of the downed trees) would be working with a number of Pacific Power crews to clear the road and get us home. The work would be slow as Pacific Power estimated over 50 trees down in just the few miles back into town.

So we waited. The patient was stable and resting comfortably with the morphine. The supervisor was calling every twenty minutes to give me updates, check on the patient, and try to keep our morale up.

We spent over two hours at that little station, during which time a tree came down on the brush unit that was parked outside and the battery on the ambulance died, requiring a jump. Eventually though, the bay door rolled up and there stood the Pacific Power crew and the crew sent from Astoria Fire, decked out in storm gear and helmets. While there was only one Pacific Power truck outside, I would later learn that they had diverted numerous crews from repair work to come cut us out.

My partner made the radio call to dispatch that we were continuing and I called in to the receiving hospital with another update. By this time, the storm had reached a slight lull and the trip into town, lead by Pacific Power and Astoria FD, was easy going. Power was out throughout the city and the hospital was running by generator when we pulled in. The entire trauma team had been released and we were met only by the ER physician and nurse. Uneventfully, we turned the patient over and returned to quarters.

For the rest of the shift, we listened to the wind batter the station. 911 service in the county was sketchy so we had to scan with portable radios for calls coming from our dispatch and fire dispatch. If there were other calls that night, I don’t remember them.

I was off shift on time at 0800 the next morning, relieved by a crew who had slept the whole night in their own beds. The storm had calmed, but I didn’t have to drive more than a block away from the station to see the damage.

Tree debris covered the roads, houses were missing whole sections of roof, and trees still blocked side roads. I made the usual twenty minute commute in double that time. I was concerned about my wife whom I hadn’t spoken with in 12 hours. I was worried about our house. And I was worried about the guys on my fire department and how they’d survived the night.

More to come…