a not so little campfire story for you

This is not short, but I promise you it’s worth it.)

One of my favorite parts of camping is the ranger talks.  I only got to go to one on this trip.   Usually Nathan took the boys while I tried to get Ainsley to sleep, often we ditched them altogether (we had big issues with 3 littles and the consequences of no sleep on this trip).  I was rewarded for the one I *did* get to.

I walked with the boys into the amphitheater of the Bridge Bay Campground just as it was getting dark, a few minutes late. The Ranger was just starting to answer a pre-talk question thrown at him by a 15 year old boy: What is the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen at this park?  His answer had nothing to do with the animals of the park, or the scenery, or Yellowstone in general.  It was something that could have happened anywhere.

Over 30 years ago, when this Ranger was still a new-ish ranger, he was getting ready for bed after a long day when he got a phone call: get 3 other Rangers, and come to X campground.  Dress warmly, you will be up and outdoors all night.  A 15 month old baby has been lost.

A mother had put her 15 month old baby boy in a sleeper, and nestled him snugly in the tent.  Then she went to join the family at the campfire, not 10 feet from the tent.  Half an hour later, the mom went back to check on her baby and was devestated to find no baby in the tent.  The baby was gone.  The family searched madly for a bit, and when they saw he wasn’t near their campsite, they enlisted the help of all the other campers in the campground.  After a half hour or so, the little baby still had not been found, and they realized they needed more help.  Someone ran to the nearest Ranger station for help.

The ranger giving the talk to us last week said that he was given the assignment to take the 3 other rangers with him, and together they would use flashlights and compasses.  They would walk down one mile, turn around, and walk back, doing a grid search, covering every piece of dirt they could to find this baby.

Time was essential.  It was below 30 degrees that night, in mid-August, and the baby was only in a cotton blanket sleeper.  If he wasn’t found quickly, he could easily die.

The ranger walked.  And walked. And walked.  The first hour was finished, and the baby wasn’t found.  They walked another hour.  No baby was found.  He started getting discouraged, and thinking that all this work was for nothing.  In his mind, there were several options, and none of them good.

Option 1: The baby was kidnapped.  Someone had reported seeing a red car flee out of the campground about 8:30 that night, just a few minutes before the baby was discovered missing.

Option 2: The baby crawled out of the tent and would be eaten by a hungry animal.  The campground was in the middle of a dense forest area where bears and other large animal were seen frequently.

Option 3: The baby crawled out of the tent, took a short crawl over to the lake, fell in, and drown.  There was a ranger in a boat with a huge searchlight out in the lake looking for a body as our ranger friend was walking with his buddies.

Option 4: The baby crawled out of the tent, away from the campground, and was either dying, or already dead, from the elements.

It was almost 3 in the morning while these options were going through the Ranger’s mind.  The baby had been gone for almost 7 hours.  Things were not looking good.

The ranger kept walking, kept looking, kept hoping, but not expecting.  He came to a point in his walk where he would have to walk around a triangle of trees.   He walked around the side of one tree, kicked the dirt around that one tree, and took a few steps before a voice told him ‘go back – you need to do that again, and this time do it right‘.  He stopped for a second, thought about how the baby was probably not alive, and then decided he really needed to listen to this “little voice”.

The ranger went back to the spot he was at just before he approached the triangle of trees.  Instead of kicking the ground around the outside of one tree, he put his foot in the middle of the trees, moved around some plants, put the flashlight from his head lamp towards the ground, and saw a spot of bright blue cotton.  It was the baby, curled up in a hole in the dirt in the middle of these three trees.  One full mile away from the tent he crawled out of hours earlier.

The ranger picked up the baby and held him close.  The temperature was in the 20s and the baby was freezing.  The ranger got on the walkie talkie on his shoulder and said “I have the baby.  He is alive.”  All the chatter that had been going on over the walkie talkie went silent.

The ranger made his way over to the campground, where the family was huddled by the campfire waiting to see the baby they didn’t know if they’d ever see alive again.  He walked over to the mother, handed her the baby, and walked away.

He looked up at all of us sitting in the amphitheater, I’m sure most not totally composed like myself, and said that that experience was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen or been a part of in his 39 years as a ranger at Yellowstone.  He had only told the story to a group like us once before, when he gave a graduation talk at the high school where he teaches science.  He told the story to illustrate to the students that it is critical to do things right.  To not take shortcuts.  To be thorough when success matters most.

Walking back to the camp site that night, I talked about the story to the boys.  When I want them to remember from the story, in addition to the rangers point, is to always listen for – and follow – the promptings of that quiet voice the ranger heard.  It wasn’t just words in his head telling him to go back.  Those words came from the Holy Ghost, and they were prompting him to do what needed to be done for that baby’s life to be saved; hearing the Holy Ghost means nothing if we don’t do what we’re told.

“So when I have choices or answers to find,
The still, quiet voice fills my heart and my mind.
And when I am frightened or sad or in need,
Then I can feel peace when its whisp’rings I heed.

The Holy Ghost can be with me each day, to comfort me, bless me, and show me the way.
He teaches me of the things that are true
And prompts me to know of the good I should do.”

(from song The Gift of the Holy Ghost)