Smoke signals. (Grand Ronde, Or.) 19??-current, June 15, 2012, Page 6, Image 6

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    6
Smoke Signals
JUNE 15,2012
By Ron Karten
Smoke Signals staff writer
On Thursday, May 31, three
security officers on their way to
work the graveyard shift at Spirit
Mountain Casino crossed paths
with the rollover crash of a black,
1999 Toyota 4Runner driven by
Lincoln City resident Sunnie L.
Baumann, 66.
Engine fluids exploded into fire
upon impact.
Security officers Dawn Heff
ner, 40, Jeff Hanes, 45, and Paul
Wheeler, 58, risked their lives to
bring Baumann, her mother, Lu
cille A. Pruhsmeier, 92, Baumann's
German shepherd and parrot out of
the burning SUV alive.
Hanes is an emergency medical
responder and Wheeler has 14
years experience as a volunteer
firefighter.
Joining the three was good Sa
maritan Levi Anderson, 22, who
lives across the street from where
the accident occurred. Also aid
ing the effort were Sheridan and
Willamina firefighters and EMTs,
members of the Yamhill County
Sheriffs Office and Oregon State
Police personnel.
The parrot was not the only one
emerging from the accident with a
story to tell.
About 9:50 p.m., Baumann's SUV
approached the intersection of Red
Prairie Road on state Highway 18,
the Salmon River Highway, where
Heffner sat at the stop sign. The
SUVs brakes were locked and the
tires were screaming as the vehicle
moved down the highway, sliding
sideways and then backwards, al
most as if it were trying to turn on
to Red Prairie.
"I thought she was going to try
to make the turn," said Heffner,
who recalled the event on June 5
with her co-workers in a conference
room on the second floor of Spirit
Mountain Casino. Casino Security
Manager Brian Willis congratu
lated all three by presenting them
with "Shining Star" awards.
"She is not going to make that
turn," Heffner remembers think
ing. Then the SUV started flipping. It
rolled twice before coming to a stop
at the stop sign on the other side of
the highway, and then burst into
flames with an explosive sound.
"I drove across 18 and parked by
the ditch," Heffner said. "As soon as
I got out of my car I started holler
ing (to the people in the car), but I
couldn't get any response."
At the same time, she punched in
911 on her cell. She also was trying
to get somebody driving by to stop
and help.
"Nobody would stop," she re
called. Meanwhile, the SUV rocked pre
cariously between the stop sign and
the ditch, with the passenger side
down and the front of the car facing
west on Highway 18 toward the ca
sino, the direction it had come from.
Red Prairie Road is nine miles east
of the casino.
Baumann later told Wheeler that
it had felt like " 'the steering wheel
locked before the car shot to the
right.' That would be consistent
M -4SSU0 , f J5f . J
V
Photos by Michelle Alaimo
Spirit Mountain Casino security officers, from left, Jeff Hanes, Dawn Heffner
and Paul Wheeler helped rescue two people from a car that rolled and caught
on fire in a single vehicle accident at Highway 18 and Red Prairie Road in
Sheridan on Thursday, May 31.
Spirit Mountain Casino security officers Jeff Hanes, Dawn Heffner and Paul
Wheeler each received a "Shining Star" certificate and pin from the casino in
recognition of their life-saving act.
with a blown front tire," he said.
While waiting for help to arrive,
Heffner heard from the occupants
of the SUV. She said she was look
ing for "a screw driver or a wrench
or something" to break out the front
window, but couldn't findanything.
She thought of throwing dirt on the
engine fire that was already com
ing up over the driver's side front
tire, but the dirt was filled with
weeds. She looked for large rocks,
but all she could see were pebbles.
She tried to kick out the window,
without luck.
When Baumann spoke, her first
words were mired in confusion.
"Where am I?" she asked. "What
happened?"
Heffner reached in on the driver's
side window to talk to Baumann
and to see how to help her out,
but did not have the tools even to
release the seatbelt.
About this point, Hanes and
Wheeler, who were also heading to
work for the graveyard shift, saw
the headlights "all weird looking,"
in Hanes' words.
They hurried down that way.
"It's on fire, Paul," Hanes said to
his co-worker and they both jumped
out of the car on arrival. Neither
saw Heffner, who was working with
Baumann when they arrived. She
was on the far side, the ditch side,
of the car. They all just had the
same instincts.
About the same time, Anderson,
a 5-foot, 7-inch equipment operator
with asthma who weighs in at 270
pounds, and who also has training
as a volunteer firefighter, heard
the tires squealing. He came run
ning, arriving just after Hanes and
Wheeler.
The way the car had landed
forced all of them to work at reach
ing the occupants from the ditch
side, or from in front through the
windshield, with the SUV rocking
uncontrollably. If it rocked too far,
it had only one way to go.
"We started breaking windows,"
Hanes said. He showed a "rescue
knife" designed to cut and hammer
through windows and he knocked
out the driver's back side window
with it. He tried to make it work on
the windshield, but "windshields
are designed not to shatter," he
said, and so it was broken in a mil
lion pieces that all stayed together.
"I tried to pull the whole thing out
but it wouldn't come."
"We could not get the driver's side
door open," said Anderson, "but we
ended up prying it open as far as
we could."
At this point, the fire also was
coming into the car from under
the dash, not a large, swirling fire,
said Wheeler, but "it was coming in
pretty good."
Back at the driver's side window,
Hanes reached in.
"I told her I was going to cut her
seat belt," he said, and used his tool
to do that. "She fell back into the
car, crying, 'Ahhhh.'
"I'm telling her (Baumann),
'You've got to use your feet to climb
out.' " said Hanes.
"She may have fallen on her
mother," who was in the passenger
seat, said Wheeler.
"(Pruhsmeier) was calling, 'Help
me,' " said Wheeler.
"It crossed my mind for about 10
seconds that the car could explode,"
said Heffner.
"They teach you in Emergency
Medical Responder training to
evaluate a scene before going in,"
said Hanes. "Is the scene safe? Do
you have protective equipment,
gloves to protect against blood?
Well I'm thinking, there's nothing
safe about this scene and I don't
have protective equipment."
Wheeler also knew the rules: If
you don't have proper training and
equipment, stay away, but he said
he was thinking, "If we don't do
something, these people are going
to die.
"I didn't realize how much that
car was still rocking on its side, and
I knew it could easily roll over on
us, but you're thinking, if we don't
do something, they'll all burn to
death."
"We got (Baumann) to stand up,"
said Wheeler. "Jeff was on her right
and I was on her left." Anderson
was half in the windshield disinte
grating in front of her.
"That's when I realized there was
a dog in the car," said Wheeler. "I
saw the eyes, and I'm thinking,
'Please be friendly.' "
"We lifted (Baumann) up by her
pants and out through the driver's
side front window," said Wheeler.
They walked her away from the
SUV though emergency medical
help had not yet arrived, Hanes
remembered.
Maybe four minutes in, firefight
ers, police and medical staff started
arriving.
Baumann was crying, "My dog,
my bird, my mother..."
Meanwhile, "Everyone's scream
ing, "You've got to get out of there,'"
said Hanes.
Anderson was back in the front
windshield.
See SECURITY
continued on page 7