Image provided by: Morrow County Museum; Heppner, OR
About Heppner gazette-times. (Heppner, Or.) 1925-current | View Entire Issue (May 12, 2004)
I^ \ £ An Air Life of Oregon Publication Vol. 18, Number en and Colby Knifong have lived every parent's worst nightmare. They know the terrifying chill of plunging through icy water, bruised and bloody, screaming their child’s name. They know the horror of seeing their son’s lifeless body pulled from beneath a sunken log. They know the wave of nausea that hits when they recognize the fear shimmering in the eyes of every paramedic, police officer, nurse and doctor— the fear that there’s no way this child could survive. K GOING UNDER A toddler submerged for twenty minutes in an icy current. A desperate family praying for a miracle. A whole community fighting against hopeless odds. What will it take to save Kennisen Knifong? directed his deputy to take Colby inside to search the house in case Kennisen was merely hiding. He had been missing for nearly 20 minutes. Struggling to stay calm, Steve ran toward the creek and looked down stream. Something pulled his gaze to a spot nearly 350 yards from where the dog still sat guarding the point of entry. It was something shiny, something that looked like a fishing lure. Steve ran toward it, fear grip ping at him as he realized he was seeing was three small buttons on the front of Kennisen’s sweatshirt. It’s an image that still bum s in the back of his mind. “He was underwater with his arms floating out like kelp and his eyes fixed and dilated,” he said. It was a sunny morning last June, and Colby Knifong was outside the family’s Enterprise home with her 17-month-old son, Kennisen. Steve grabbed Kennisen and pulled him from the surging creek. He pressed his back to expel any water from the small body. As he prepared to start CPR, Steve looked up to see nearly two-dozen people converging on the scene. From neighbors to paramedics, family to police officers, the Knifongs' house was suddenly a whirl of activity. “I bent down to pull a weed,” she recalls. “I turned my back on him for just a second.” But a second was all it took. In that instant, Kennisen scram bled down a 20-foot bank, under a fence, and into the frigid creek. When Colby turned around, she felt her blood turn to ice. The family dog sat motionless beside a small, muddy footprint in the creek bank. Ken stood numbly on the sidelines as people took turns performing CPR on his son. “At that point. I didn't think we were going to make it out of town,” he said. “It was the most blue, lifeless body I’d ever seen.” Colby hurtled over the fence and down the steep embank ment, charging into icy water that surged around her knees. “These logs kept cutting my legs, but I didn't even notice then,” she said. Screaming Kennisen’s name, she fought her way down stream as the current pulled at her clothes and slammed her into logs. Seconds passed, with still no sign of her son. Spring 2004 Kennisen wasn’t breathing. He had no pulse, and his body was cold and unmoving. As Steve Rogers performed CPR, he tried to squelch the feeling of hopelessness that gripped him. “This kid couldn’t have been any deader. He was as blue as his little sweatshirt.” Back at Wallowa Memorial Hospital, Head Nurse Gail Colby, Kennisen and Ken Knifong gaze out over the creek that nearly claimed Kennisen's Johnson, RN, and Tami Perren, RN, were life less than a year ago. huddled around the blaring, he passed the familiar truck of an nurse’s station listening to “I ran back to the house and electrician. It was Kennisen’s father, Ken the dispatch call for the hos called 911,” she said. “Then I ran back out TO OUR PARTNERS Knifong, on his way to a job. pital’s ambulance. When to keep searching." Lowell Euhus. MD, walked “You just get a feeling in a small town,” Steve Rogers, undersheriff with the by, Gail asked if he'd go to Ken recalls. “When I saw them turn like Wallowa County Sheriffs office, was at his the Knifongs’ house. they might be headed to our house, I just desk when Colby's frantic call came in. WALLOW* COUNTY knew something had happened to “I don’t usually go to the With more than 35 years of search and AMBULANCE SERVICE Kennisen.” rescue experience under his belt, Steve knew he had to act fast. As he raced Continued on page 4 Steve arrived ahead o f Ken and quickly toward the Knifong residence with sirens tK K K ÊH ÊÊ ÊÊ ÊÊ Ê IÊ IK Ê IÊ K Ê ÊÊ Ê ÊÊ ÊÊ Ê ÊK ÊM Air Life of Oregon • St. Charles Medical Center 2500 NE Neff Rd. Bend, Oregon 97701 Photo by Gary Reiche