Wounded Angels find solace at 6,000 feet
MOUNT HOOD, Ore. -- Countless people have experienced the peaceful serenity that can be found at the Cloud Cap Inn, Mount Hood, Ore. But for most, the road that brought them to this magical place didn't begin in Afghanistan while being ejected from an HH-60G Pave Hawk helicopter as it tumbled down a mountainside.
Staff Sgt. Scott Bilyeu, a medically retired active duty pararescueman, was one of seven wounded Guardian Angel Airmen who participated in a weeklong healing retreat geared to connect injured Rescue Airmen July 22. Guardian Angels are a U.S. Air Force weapons system that comprises combat rescue officers, pararescuemen, and specialists in survival, evasion, resistance and escape, known as SERE.
"The goal was to help with the healing process," said Laura Lerdall, That Others May Live Foundation deputy executive director. "Every detail of this event was designed to help with the healing: the location, the activities, the speakers and the tours."
After hours of sitting on alert in Afghanistan, a nighttime call came in for a life threatening injury requiring immediate medical evacuation from the battlefield, Bilyeu said. He and his fellow Rescue Airmen were airborne within minutes, en route to a location that would put them in a precarious situation. As their HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopter attempted to land on a mountainside ledge, the rotor wash created an arena of dust and debris, eliminating all visibility, a condition know as a brown out. With the loss of all visibility and the inability to detect any reference points, the main rotor clipped the mountainside sending the chopper and the six Rescue Airmen onboard into a violent roll down the mountain. Before the dust had a chance to settle, Bilyeu's fellow PJ, Master Sgt. Paul Schultz, was evaluating the situation, systematically searching for all crewmembers and assessing all injured. One crewmember perished that night.
Although all survivors sustained some degree of injury, the most severely injured was Bilyeu, who in preparation for the rescue had removed his lifeline, a harness that tethered him to the Pave Hawk. As the the helicopter plummeted down the mountain, Bilyeu was ejected and sustained numerous broken bones and a severe head injury.
Bilyeu recounted the details of that ill-fated day as it was told to him. As a result of the crash, Bilyeu was in a coma for a month-and-a-half and sustained a traumatic brain injury. He does not remember the details of that day.
"There are days that I feel better, but they are days I taste it on my lips; I speak too slow, or too fast, I stutter," Bilyeu said. "Parachute was my life; I knew when I saw that (PJ) pamphlet I knew what I wanted to do. Now I feel like I'm back in high school. I can't figure out what I want, or can do."
Other wounded Guardian Angels at the Cloud Cap Inn could relate; although their stories differ, in the end they were all changed men.
"When you get injured, you come back and you're removed from your unit, you sort of get isolated," said Staff Sgt. Jimmy Settle, 212th Rescue Squadron, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska. "You feel not so much it's your fault that you can't play with your boys (rescue team), but you feel that you're not worthy, you go to a dark place. This (retreat) connects you with dudes who get it."
Settle can relate to Bilyeu, as he also struggles to cope with what most would consider simple daily tasks. While on a rescue mission in Afghanistan in 2010, the Pave Hawk Settle was on came under fire. Rounds from AK-47 assault rifles pelted the chopper from all directions. Rounds penetrated the floorboards of the chopper; upon impact one round fragmented, sending it on a trajectory that went between Settle's helmet and forehead, finally lodging into his scalp. The injury ultimately left Settle with a traumatic brain injury and struggling with daily responsibilities, such as remembering to shave, how to wear his uniform, and even recognizing his wife.
"I'm walking around with my cool-man (PJ) beret, that beret that I worked so many years for, and now, if you run down the checklist, I am not qualified," said Settle. "I feel like I am putting on a costume, a PJ costume. I feel I am not worthy and I don't belong anymore. It's very lonely and leads to dark places in the mind. Coming out here kind of stokes the fire; these guys understand, they have walked the same path I have."
The love that Chief Master Sgt. Richard Konopka, Air Force Reserve Command Headquarters, Robins Air Force Base, Ga., has for Mount Hood prompted him to call the That Others May Live Foundation, a nonprofit charitable organization, and present his idea to bring wounded Angels together on the mountain.
"I'm very familiar with the beauty of Mount Hood and its tranquility, so this seemed the perfect place for our veterans to recharge themselves after very horrific, life-changing events," Konopka said.
According to Konopka there are approximately 500 PJs in the Air Force, and many of the wounded Angels know each other, either from indoctrination school, training together or combat. To rekindle the friendships and rehash old times, the retreat kicked-off with the wounded Angels coming together with Angels from the 304th Rescue Squadron, Portland Ore., who co-sponsored the retreat. All climbed aboard a Timberline Lodge snow cat track vehicle that took them thousands of feet up the north side of Mount Hood where they bonded over lunch.
The rest of the week the wounded Angels were hosted by the Crag Rats, an all-volunteer mountain rescue group that maintains the U.S. Forest Service-owned Cloud Cap Inn.
"It's a real pleasure to host this event; it's a natural fit," said Bill Pattison, Crag Rats spokesperson. "The Crag Rats and the 304th have a long history of working together."
All details throughout the week were taken care of: transportation, shelter, daily menu and all activities. Angels spent their days hiking Mount Hood, swimming at a local swim hole, fly fishing, and visiting local attractions, but most of all enjoying the serenity that Mount Hood has to offer.
"For a dude who is messed up in the brain, you guys made this so awesome for me," Settle said. "You created an environment that I didn't have to worry about the little stuff. I could focus on the social stuff and working on me. Thank you guys, thank you."
By all accounts the inaugural That Others May Live Wounded Angel Retreat was a success, and plans are in the works to make this an annual event.
"We are very pleased on how the retreat turned out," said Maj. Christopher Bernard, 304th RQS combat rescue officer and retreat organizer. "We gained an understanding of what it is to be a wounded Angel; we are all touched."
"This week really exceeded my expectations," said Lerdall. "To continue to fund these retreats, which are open to all rescue personnel not just Angels, we need donations."
Editors notes:
Bilyeu is currently living in San Antonio, Texas with his wife and 5-year-old son. Bilyeu has come to terms with his new life and is content as a stay-at-home dad. He continues to challenge himself both mentally and physically; most recently he participated in a cross-country bicycle ride, in which he biked 4,000 miles. Bilyeu still struggles with some aspects of his life and is still looking for his calling.
Settle currently lives in Seattle, Wash., and as a result of his injury is now divorced. Settle spends his days with an array of therapists, psychologists and neurosurgeons, working on his short and long term memory, motor skills and speech. His saving grace is his 3-year-old son, Jimmy, who he has custody of every other week after.
Staff Sgt. Scott Bilyeu, a medically retired active duty pararescueman, was one of seven wounded Guardian Angel Airmen who participated in a weeklong healing retreat geared to connect injured Rescue Airmen July 22. Guardian Angels are a U.S. Air Force weapons system that comprises combat rescue officers, pararescuemen, and specialists in survival, evasion, resistance and escape, known as SERE.
"The goal was to help with the healing process," said Laura Lerdall, That Others May Live Foundation deputy executive director. "Every detail of this event was designed to help with the healing: the location, the activities, the speakers and the tours."
After hours of sitting on alert in Afghanistan, a nighttime call came in for a life threatening injury requiring immediate medical evacuation from the battlefield, Bilyeu said. He and his fellow Rescue Airmen were airborne within minutes, en route to a location that would put them in a precarious situation. As their HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopter attempted to land on a mountainside ledge, the rotor wash created an arena of dust and debris, eliminating all visibility, a condition know as a brown out. With the loss of all visibility and the inability to detect any reference points, the main rotor clipped the mountainside sending the chopper and the six Rescue Airmen onboard into a violent roll down the mountain. Before the dust had a chance to settle, Bilyeu's fellow PJ, Master Sgt. Paul Schultz, was evaluating the situation, systematically searching for all crewmembers and assessing all injured. One crewmember perished that night.
Although all survivors sustained some degree of injury, the most severely injured was Bilyeu, who in preparation for the rescue had removed his lifeline, a harness that tethered him to the Pave Hawk. As the the helicopter plummeted down the mountain, Bilyeu was ejected and sustained numerous broken bones and a severe head injury.
Bilyeu recounted the details of that ill-fated day as it was told to him. As a result of the crash, Bilyeu was in a coma for a month-and-a-half and sustained a traumatic brain injury. He does not remember the details of that day.
"There are days that I feel better, but they are days I taste it on my lips; I speak too slow, or too fast, I stutter," Bilyeu said. "Parachute was my life; I knew when I saw that (PJ) pamphlet I knew what I wanted to do. Now I feel like I'm back in high school. I can't figure out what I want, or can do."
Other wounded Guardian Angels at the Cloud Cap Inn could relate; although their stories differ, in the end they were all changed men.
"When you get injured, you come back and you're removed from your unit, you sort of get isolated," said Staff Sgt. Jimmy Settle, 212th Rescue Squadron, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska. "You feel not so much it's your fault that you can't play with your boys (rescue team), but you feel that you're not worthy, you go to a dark place. This (retreat) connects you with dudes who get it."
Settle can relate to Bilyeu, as he also struggles to cope with what most would consider simple daily tasks. While on a rescue mission in Afghanistan in 2010, the Pave Hawk Settle was on came under fire. Rounds from AK-47 assault rifles pelted the chopper from all directions. Rounds penetrated the floorboards of the chopper; upon impact one round fragmented, sending it on a trajectory that went between Settle's helmet and forehead, finally lodging into his scalp. The injury ultimately left Settle with a traumatic brain injury and struggling with daily responsibilities, such as remembering to shave, how to wear his uniform, and even recognizing his wife.
"I'm walking around with my cool-man (PJ) beret, that beret that I worked so many years for, and now, if you run down the checklist, I am not qualified," said Settle. "I feel like I am putting on a costume, a PJ costume. I feel I am not worthy and I don't belong anymore. It's very lonely and leads to dark places in the mind. Coming out here kind of stokes the fire; these guys understand, they have walked the same path I have."
The love that Chief Master Sgt. Richard Konopka, Air Force Reserve Command Headquarters, Robins Air Force Base, Ga., has for Mount Hood prompted him to call the That Others May Live Foundation, a nonprofit charitable organization, and present his idea to bring wounded Angels together on the mountain.
"I'm very familiar with the beauty of Mount Hood and its tranquility, so this seemed the perfect place for our veterans to recharge themselves after very horrific, life-changing events," Konopka said.
According to Konopka there are approximately 500 PJs in the Air Force, and many of the wounded Angels know each other, either from indoctrination school, training together or combat. To rekindle the friendships and rehash old times, the retreat kicked-off with the wounded Angels coming together with Angels from the 304th Rescue Squadron, Portland Ore., who co-sponsored the retreat. All climbed aboard a Timberline Lodge snow cat track vehicle that took them thousands of feet up the north side of Mount Hood where they bonded over lunch.
The rest of the week the wounded Angels were hosted by the Crag Rats, an all-volunteer mountain rescue group that maintains the U.S. Forest Service-owned Cloud Cap Inn.
"It's a real pleasure to host this event; it's a natural fit," said Bill Pattison, Crag Rats spokesperson. "The Crag Rats and the 304th have a long history of working together."
All details throughout the week were taken care of: transportation, shelter, daily menu and all activities. Angels spent their days hiking Mount Hood, swimming at a local swim hole, fly fishing, and visiting local attractions, but most of all enjoying the serenity that Mount Hood has to offer.
"For a dude who is messed up in the brain, you guys made this so awesome for me," Settle said. "You created an environment that I didn't have to worry about the little stuff. I could focus on the social stuff and working on me. Thank you guys, thank you."
By all accounts the inaugural That Others May Live Wounded Angel Retreat was a success, and plans are in the works to make this an annual event.
"We are very pleased on how the retreat turned out," said Maj. Christopher Bernard, 304th RQS combat rescue officer and retreat organizer. "We gained an understanding of what it is to be a wounded Angel; we are all touched."
"This week really exceeded my expectations," said Lerdall. "To continue to fund these retreats, which are open to all rescue personnel not just Angels, we need donations."
Editors notes:
Bilyeu is currently living in San Antonio, Texas with his wife and 5-year-old son. Bilyeu has come to terms with his new life and is content as a stay-at-home dad. He continues to challenge himself both mentally and physically; most recently he participated in a cross-country bicycle ride, in which he biked 4,000 miles. Bilyeu still struggles with some aspects of his life and is still looking for his calling.
Settle currently lives in Seattle, Wash., and as a result of his injury is now divorced. Settle spends his days with an array of therapists, psychologists and neurosurgeons, working on his short and long term memory, motor skills and speech. His saving grace is his 3-year-old son, Jimmy, who he has custody of every other week after.