When a child is lost in the woods, it's an all hands on deck situation. We got such a call one morning from a frantic mother who said her 11-yr-old son had been missing overnight. They were at a family cabin in the woods near the lake, and the mother's boyfriend had taken the boy out to go fishing the previous afternoon. The boy had asked if he could take the .22 rifle along and maybe do some shooting in the woods. The boyfriend agreed, and they walked to a pond about ½ mile away. The boy had grown bored with fishing after a while and said he wanted to go back to the cabin. The boyfriend wasn't through fishing yet, so he told the boy to go ahead. The boy took the rifle and started back toward the cabin. That's where things went wrong. The boyfriend arrived back at the cabin, and the mother asked where her son was. The boyfriend told her he should have been back by then, as he'd left the pond a couple of hours earlier. They spent the rest of the evening searching in the woods themselves.
When we arrived, we interviewed the mother and the boyfriend to find out all we could about the boy and his possible location. He was wearing a red tee-shirt and bluejeans, and he had a .22 semi-auto rifle with him. We formed search teams and sent them into the woods. We called for a team of search dogs, but it was going to take a few hours for them to arrive. Volunteers were arriving to help in the search, and the sheriff was coordinating. I suggested borrowing a plane to cover more territory faster, and he approved. I called a friend who had a Cessna 150 at the local airport, and he told me where to find the keys. I took another deputy along as a spotter, and we left for the airport.
Arriving over the search area in the 150, I began flying a grid around the cabin. We were staying at 500' and trying to see down among the pine trees, which was a pretty neat trick. I used full flaps and slowed to 50 mph so we had more time to look between trees. After several legs of the grid, Buddy, my spotter, said he got a glimpse of something red, but then lost it again. I asked him to point as nearly as he could to where he saw it. I took careful note of the landmarks to get an idea of the best way to access the spot, then circled that spot repeatedly trying to find the red object again. No luck. I called the sheriff on the radio and told him we were over a possible sighting location, but he said we were too far from the search area. We went back to the airport, then returned to the search. Buddy had to leave, so I grabbed one of the volunteer firefighters who was helping in the search and took him to the area we had been looking at. It was about 200 yards off the end of a small road. We drove to the end of the road and split up, heading in the direction of where the sighting had been. About 10 minutes later I heard the firefighter yell, "I FOUND HIM!" I called the sheriff and gave him our location as the firefighter carried the boy out to the road. The boy had blood on his face and head, and he was limp. We called for an ambulance, and they transported him to a hospital in Texarkana. Our investigator followed the ambulance, and as soon as the boy was stable and able to talk, he told his story.
The boy said when he got bored with fishing he headed toward the cabin, but he must have taken a wrong branch of the trail. He continued walking until nightfall, at which point he stopped and sat down. He said he heard animals in the woods around him, and he was very afraid. After a few hours of sitting and listening to the animals, he feared they would attack and eat him, and he couldn't bear the thought. He decided the best course would be to shoot himself so he wouldn't suffer. He put the rifle to his forehead with the rifle's butt on the ground and him standing. He pushed the trigger with a stick, because he couldn't reach it with his hand. The bullet entered his forehead just below the hairline and exited an inch or so above the hairline, not entering the skull. That hurt terribly, but it didn't kill him. He had seen people on TV put a gun under their chin, so he tried that. Because of his height relative to the length of the rifle, the bullet entered under his chin and exited his lower lip. At that point he hurt so much he gave up on suicide and waited for daylight. He saw the airplane and thought it might be looking for him, but by then he figured he was in a lot of trouble, so he hid from the plane. That's why we couldn't find the patch of red again.
The boy was going to live, but the story didn't end there. The following day, the boy's father went to the hospital and shot the mother's boyfriend dead in the parking lot. The father was tried and convicted on a charge of manslaughter (not homicide, which would have been a stiffer sentence). I guess the jury decided there were mitigating circumstances.
When we arrived, we interviewed the mother and the boyfriend to find out all we could about the boy and his possible location. He was wearing a red tee-shirt and bluejeans, and he had a .22 semi-auto rifle with him. We formed search teams and sent them into the woods. We called for a team of search dogs, but it was going to take a few hours for them to arrive. Volunteers were arriving to help in the search, and the sheriff was coordinating. I suggested borrowing a plane to cover more territory faster, and he approved. I called a friend who had a Cessna 150 at the local airport, and he told me where to find the keys. I took another deputy along as a spotter, and we left for the airport.
Arriving over the search area in the 150, I began flying a grid around the cabin. We were staying at 500' and trying to see down among the pine trees, which was a pretty neat trick. I used full flaps and slowed to 50 mph so we had more time to look between trees. After several legs of the grid, Buddy, my spotter, said he got a glimpse of something red, but then lost it again. I asked him to point as nearly as he could to where he saw it. I took careful note of the landmarks to get an idea of the best way to access the spot, then circled that spot repeatedly trying to find the red object again. No luck. I called the sheriff on the radio and told him we were over a possible sighting location, but he said we were too far from the search area. We went back to the airport, then returned to the search. Buddy had to leave, so I grabbed one of the volunteer firefighters who was helping in the search and took him to the area we had been looking at. It was about 200 yards off the end of a small road. We drove to the end of the road and split up, heading in the direction of where the sighting had been. About 10 minutes later I heard the firefighter yell, "I FOUND HIM!" I called the sheriff and gave him our location as the firefighter carried the boy out to the road. The boy had blood on his face and head, and he was limp. We called for an ambulance, and they transported him to a hospital in Texarkana. Our investigator followed the ambulance, and as soon as the boy was stable and able to talk, he told his story.
The boy said when he got bored with fishing he headed toward the cabin, but he must have taken a wrong branch of the trail. He continued walking until nightfall, at which point he stopped and sat down. He said he heard animals in the woods around him, and he was very afraid. After a few hours of sitting and listening to the animals, he feared they would attack and eat him, and he couldn't bear the thought. He decided the best course would be to shoot himself so he wouldn't suffer. He put the rifle to his forehead with the rifle's butt on the ground and him standing. He pushed the trigger with a stick, because he couldn't reach it with his hand. The bullet entered his forehead just below the hairline and exited an inch or so above the hairline, not entering the skull. That hurt terribly, but it didn't kill him. He had seen people on TV put a gun under their chin, so he tried that. Because of his height relative to the length of the rifle, the bullet entered under his chin and exited his lower lip. At that point he hurt so much he gave up on suicide and waited for daylight. He saw the airplane and thought it might be looking for him, but by then he figured he was in a lot of trouble, so he hid from the plane. That's why we couldn't find the patch of red again.
The boy was going to live, but the story didn't end there. The following day, the boy's father went to the hospital and shot the mother's boyfriend dead in the parking lot. The father was tried and convicted on a charge of manslaughter (not homicide, which would have been a stiffer sentence). I guess the jury decided there were mitigating circumstances.
