I woke up this morning, with a sinking feeling still hanging high in my chest. I got off a late flight into Missoula the night before, having spent the previous four days or so hanging out outside the entrance of a hospital in El Paso, TX. A constant stream of visitors, and tears, flowed in and out of the hospital entrance between trips up to the second floor to visit a close friend and smokejumper. He had endured a hard landing just north of the Mexico border jumping a new fire start towards the beginning of the week. Walking into the ICU for the first time, alone because of a strict 1 visitor limit at the time, was indescribable. My friend and fellow wildland firefighter was unrecognizable. With bandages, braces, tubes, and monitors all working to keep him alive and put together, it seemed I was the one falling apart. Not just for my own selfish reasons and memories, but even more from thoughts of his wife, his dog, his family, and his other close friends, many of which also were able to drop everything and fly south to help in any way possible.

Fire season has barely even gotten started, and it has already hit closer to home than it has in my fifteen years of service. I have experienced the loss of people from the same forest, the same fire, friends of friends, general acquaintances, etc. I had been lucky up to this point to not be hit so hard. So close. Despite worsening drought, longer seasons, increasing job vacancies, and increasing fire behavior it always seemed that tragedy could never hit me or anyone close to me. We are too smart. Too tough. We pay attention. We know what we are doing. Well, turns out that there are a lot of things out of our control.

There is one thing that is absolutely within our control, however: Staying in contact. I'm sure its no secret that the fire service has an astronomical rate for depression and suicide. Couple that with the high risk of injuries and associated health problems and you have a large group of people with an increased likelihood of needing a hand, physically or emotionally. A simple phone call could make a world of difference for someone who is withdrawn and near the end of their rope. My buddy is still down in El Paso fighting for his life, or at least at the time of writing this he is. Its not looking good though. I unfortunately had to head home for work or I would have stayed as long as it took. This is just a simple reminder, aside from all the safety talks and tactics and strategy, to make sure to take time to connect with your fire family once in a while. Don't take those relationships for granted. If you used to work in a different state, or on a different forest, on a different module or even if you have gotten too busy to grab a beer or go fishing with someone you were close to, reach out and tell them you still love them. Because you never know when you won't have the chance to do it anymore...