The lives of 14 firefighters were lost 25 years ago this month during the South Canyon Fire near Glenwood Springs, CO.
Lightning sparked the fire on July 2, 1994, near the base of Storm King Mountain. Area fire resources were already taxed by a number of fires due to drought conditions with record temperatures and low humidity throughout the region.
It was two days before fire crews were sent to the South Canyon Fire, which had a lower priority dispatch because lives and property were at little risk. Crews assessed the scene on July 4, but they began working the fire on July 5, with a long hike into the brush to clear a helicopter landing site before creating a fireline.
On the afternoon of July 6, a dry cold front moved into the area with winds up to 45 mph fanning the flames through dense Gambel oak—a highly flammable brush. Flames, later reported as high as 300 feet and racing along at 18 mph, burned up the rugged hillside forcing firefighters to retreat. Twelve firefighters and two helitack crew members were killed trying to outrun the fire.
Three dozen firefighters were able to escape from the deadly flames using fire shelters or seeking out safe areas as the wall of flames consumed everything in its path.
Killed in the fire were:
- Kathi Beck
- Tami Bickett
- Scott Blecha
- Levi Brinkley
- Robert Browning
- Doug Dunbar
- Terri Hagen
- Bonnie Holtby
- Rob Johnson
- Jon Kelso
- Don Mackey
- Roger Roth
- James Thrash
- Richard Tyler
Some of the findings from the incident investigation conducted by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, U.S. Forest Service, and the U.S. Department of the Interior Bureau of Land Management include:
Reflections on the South Canyon Fire
In the late afternoon of July 6, 1994, time stopped for wildland firefighters. As it does, our wildland fire world shook, paused, and then marched on. Those 14 firefighters who perished were gone, but that event on Storm King Mountain, near Glenwood, CO, affected every one of us and changed our wildland fire world.
For those of us who were well into our wildland fire careers, the likelihood of that disaster seemed improbable as we arose that morning. It had been, and would continue to be, a busy year. As a type one incident commander, I was proud of my sisters and brothers in my profession. I was confident in our work, in my team, and in the thousands with whom I worked. Since my entry into wildland fire work, we had spent significant time, energy, and capital to improve and enhance our ability. In 1994, wildland fire had changed from roots of part-time focus to full-time dedicated professional work. While the dangers of drought, weather, and communities combined to form a challenging environment, on July 5, we proudly looked back at history and assured ourselves that no disaster like the 1933 Griffith Park fire (29 fatalities) could ever happen again.
Then our world changed.
For those of us not on scene, we could only meet the news with disbelief, skepticism, and a profound sense of loss. Those 14 brave firefighters, our dear sisters and brothers, died on the mountain and part of us died that day too. “How could this happen?” we cried to one another. Across the nation, perhaps the world, we faced a more dangerous, daunting and uncertain future in the aftermath of the tragedy.
As we tried to pull ourselves together after the calamity, we recognized the need to honor those fallen by critically refreshing our wildland fire profession.
Leaders of wildland fire agencies formed groups to study and analyze the catastrophe. Individual firefighters reflected on the unthinkable. Teams and groups were alerted to a more uncertain future.
Even today, those events of July 6, 1994, are a reminder of human frailty and the unforgiving nature of the wicked wildland fire problems we face. Twenty-five years have passed, many changes have been made to improve our work, memorials have been established, scars have healed, and bright faces have emerged from the mountain. I have been blessed to form a friendship with a firefighter who was there on the mountain. Kim Lightley is an example of the strength and goodness that can come from surviving, enduring, and learning to flourish. Her individual strength and her desire to brighten the future for her chosen profession is an obvious and striking example of resilience and redemption.
The sun did rise the next morning, the world moved on, the season continued busy. I, my team, my work, our work, continued, but we were changed.
We tell ourselves, “we will never forget.” I will never forget the tragedy of that afternoon, but I am comforted by progress, change for the better and improvement. The events on Storm King Mountain, the South Canyon Fire, were a seminal event in our wildland fire world. We pause to remember, then grab our gear and go forward, heading for our next assignment. -- Tom Harbour
Tom Harbour
Chief Tom Harbour is a recognized expert in wildland fire and aviation management policy and operations. He served the longest term to date as the National Fire and Aviation Management Director (National Fire Chief) of the USDA Forest Service, overseeing a program that employed over 10,000 firefighters, with an annual budget of nearly $4 billion. Since retiring, he has worked as a consultant offering expertise and advice on wildland fire issues as well as policy and organizational issues. He is now assisting the NFFF in work to reduce LODD, accident and injury among firefighters responding in the wildland and WUI environments. Harbour serves on the Board of the International Association of Wildland Fire as well as on the Advisory Board of the NFFF. He can be reached at [email protected].
