
Mortality Becomes
Reality
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This
particular Easter weekend I was nearing the end of my time in high school as
I would graduate in the coming month of June. This particular weekend, three
friends and I decided to embark on an adventure to try and find and visit the
legendary Tom Dye Rock. One of those friends was a 17 year old young man
named John Wrieden. John was always a joy to be around as his attitude was
always light hearted and funny. John’s father was Earle Wrieden a well
respected city father who was also our county Supervisor and my mother’s
employer. We John,
me and our good friend Ron McDonald headed up Western Mine Road to find the
spot where we thought we could start our search for Tom Dye Rock. Some
distance up the road we met up with our basketball coach who was along the
side of the road digging in an old Chinese camp dump site, we invited him to
join us and he did. We
had no idea where we were going but we followed the ridge line that would
lead to the summit of Mount St. Helena thinking that would be the best
approach. About 2 hours later we found a large rock outcropping that had a
natural cave in its westerly facing side. We figured we must have found Tom’s
hideout. There were natural paths about three feet wide along the sheer face
of the rock that appeared to lead to the caves entrance. It was very steep
terrain with lots of loose rock and shale. I was in the lead so I started
heading toward the cave on one of the paths, our coach was next, then John
and last was Ron. It was a steep drop off of the path into more rocks about
50 feet below. After a few feet I realized I was on the wrong path, I needed
to be on the one about five feet below us so I just dropped down and
proceeded into the cave which was quite large. Next came in coach. Ukiah Daily Journal Location: Ukiah,
California Monday, March 30, 1964 ·
“Son Killed in Fall from Cliff
ST. HELENA — John Wrieden, 17, son of Earle Wrieden of Middletown, chairman
of the Lake County Board of Supervisors, was killed Saturday at 2 p.m. when
he fell off a cliff on the Napa County side of Mount St. Helena. The victim,
a junior at Middletown high school, was hiking with two classmates, William
Wink and Ronald McDonald, when the accident occurred. His companions said the
trio was exploring caves near Tom Dye Rock when young Wrieden lost his
footing and plunged over an embankment.” We
looked over the edge and saw John move; we hustled back to the hillside and
hurried down the shale and loose rock to John. It was obvious he was badly
injured. After evaluating his condition best we could we agreed that coach
would stay with John and Ron and I would hike out to get help. We ran. Forty
five minutes later we were at our friend’s house that lived on Western Mine
Road telling them the story and that we needed help. ·
“The Alaskan Good Friday
Earthquake occurred at 5:36 P.M. AST
on Good Friday, March 27, 1964. Across south-central Alaska, ground fissures,
collapsing structures, and tsunamis resulting from the earthquake caused about
139 deaths. (Wikipedia)” We
waited, and we waited and finally everyone started showing up. Lake County
Sheriff’s Office had requested assistance and a helicopter that was returning
from Alaska to Hamilton Air force Base was diverted to our location. My
memory says there was a crew of three. I
was recruited to accompany the crew to the scene of the accident. I
had taken first-aid as a freshman in high school plus I had studied other
science courses. I knew what a compound fracture was and how it looked and
understood the damage a fall such as John’s could do. I
told the medic John had a compound fracture of his leg above the knee, a
broken arm and other injuries. In
a couple minutes we were at the site of the accident and coach was standing
on top of the rock formation with a small fire going waving his arms. When
we arrived the helicopter was unable to land so we had to descend by cable
and harness to the top of the rock formation. I was first down then followed
by the medic. After the medic descended the helicopter left and with it went
the Stokes basket. I was in disbelief, I asked the medic how we were going to
get John out and he replied he would walk out, I was further in disbelief as
I had told the medic about John’s broken leg. It
seems the helicopter was returning from Alaska and was low on fuel and had to
return to Hamilton to refuel. The plan was to get John to the top of the rock
formation by the time the copter returned so he could be evacuated.
Similar to this one Without
the Stokes basket we were left to try and improvise a stretcher made of our
shirts and tree limbs which were in scarce supply where we were. After the
medic attended John’s obvious injuries and secured them the best he could we
began our task of trying to move John from where he landed to the top of the
rock which was up a steep grade that was nothing but loose rock, shale and
dirt. The medic had the front of one tree limb, I had the other and coach had
both limbs at the back. We slipped, we fell, we slid and after about an hour
we were not even half way to the top. It has been many hours by now since
John fell. John
had been conscious much of the time but by the time we reached the resting
point he was not. I had his head in my lap and was holding his hand as he
passed. I called to the medic who confirmed John’s passing. The helicopter
had not yet returned. If
we would have had the Stokes basket would it have made a difference? It may
have, however, even if we had made it to the top John passed before the
helicopter returned anyway. By now it was getting dusk and the crew made the
call to not try and retrieve John’s remains but to ferry coach and I out and
let ground forces hike in and bring out John’s body. To
my knowledge a crew of inmates from Konocti Camp retrieved John’s remains.
The story is, they hiked in after dark, but it was too dangerous to try and
bring John out in the dark, so they built small fires to keep critters away
and brought John out after day break. One
never knows what fate awaits them. Back then there were no counselors
available, you were just expected to “suck it up” and move on as there was no
other choice. Vietnam was going full steam by 1965 and I was drafted,
however, contemplating my own mortality was not new to me, I already knew it
was reality.
Read the story of Tom Dye by Kathleen Scavone Bill Wink © May 2017 |
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