Operation Helo was underway in western North Carolina. Within a few hours we had found traction, initiated a chain of command and were already executing supply drops and evacuations. The strategy was to utilize the dozens of Robinson R44 helicopters to optimize both targeted supply drops and precise evacuations.
The light duty nature of these helicopters meant that their carrying capacity was limited but their accuracy and maneuverability was unmatched. They could navigate narrow rivers and gorges that Blackhawks wouldn’t dream of entering. They could also land in devastated backyards Chinooks couldn't even consider. We sought to capitalize on these attributes - small but mighty.
So on the second day of flight missions we had a distress call come in.. “70+ memory care facility patients need urgent evacuation in Spruce Pine!” We grabbed our gear and headed for the door while making a plan.
The nursing home facility was located high in the mountains with little to no road access after the storm struck. Most of the patients were using continuous oxygen and without adequate road access, they would soon run out. To make matters worse, all power, water, cell service and internet were cut off making communication with the outside world nearly impossible. The facility had a single parking lot just big enough for Robinson helicopters to land in safely but was no where near the size needed for a Blackhawk or Huey. This meant that we could evacuate 2-3 patients at a time in the 4 seater R44s.
Our plan of action? Initiate a staggered flight chain with ground control directing the operation. My copilot and I located an RN who had worked at that facility previously and brought her along. Our first flight was meant to bring supplies to the exhausted facility workers and drop off the RN and ground and flight operations director. This ended up being me.
Landing, I jumped out prepared to handle and desperate workers looking for a flight out. After talking with the crew and assessing the situation I formulated a plan. We would set up a stream of helicopters. The first would land, I would take 3 patients based on weight and carrying capacity, load them, direct the helicopter into flight and immediately direct the next helicopter into the LZ.
Careful attention was necessary as all of the patients dealt with some form of dementia or Alzheimer’s. Meaning that none of them had a full grasp of the situation and most didn’t want to take a helicopter ride today. Adding to that, most of them had never been in a helicopter and were on oxygen - highly explosive as you are well aware.
We did our best. One after another I directed R44s into the parking lot, lifted the patients one at a time, quickly explained that they were going for a quick, fun ride while fastening their seatbelts, securing their oxygen and then directed the pilots out of the parking lot, carefully navigating the trees, cars and fencing.
Over and over. All day long.
Around noon I calculated our current pace and realized that if we wanted to have everyone out by nightfall something had to change. I went to the facility director and said “sir if you don’t want these patients sleeping here tonight you need to find a way to navigate some of these roads with a few.” He took one look at the seriousness on my face and set about organizing a way to use 4x4 vehicles to get some patients to a bigger parking lot where larger helicopters could land. Success.
As sunset drew near, my copilot landed ready for another few patients. He was the last helicopter and had two seats available and there were two patients left. I loaded them in and directed them into the air. Before he took off he said, “I will send some guys to get you!” And away he flew. And there I was left. No service, no supplies, and no one else. I assumed “sending someone” would take less than an hour. But as the sun set and no one seemed to be coming I started to prepare to stay the night. Finally after what seemed like hours and hours two helicopters entered the pattern to land. When they did, they turned to me asking, “you’re Caleb? The radio waves have been blowing up with everyone making sure someone got you.”
Once in the helicopter I took a sigh of relief. 70+ patients evacuated safely and besides the near fistfight between delirious facility workers and the bee sting that sent someone nearly into anaphylaxis, we could say it went pretty smooth.