[SIZE=+2]Even Eskimos Get Cold: [/SIZE]
By Murray Rosen
It was a dark and stormy night at Pow Main during the winter of 1985. We found an Eskimo gentleman trying to get into the train. I went out to talk with him. He was an older man, obviousely intoxicated and spoke little english. It took several minutes to understand his friend was missing on a snow machine. He was quite disturbed. I called out the Emergency Action Team.
Bill, the Vehicle Mechanic, and I, jumped into the trackmaster and headed out over the snow covered tundra. We dispatched a vehicle with several men, down the road towards the airstrip. We would try to meet up later. I also alerted the clinic in Barrow.
After about a half hour, through the blowing snow, our lights picked up a snow machine on its side with an Eskimo sound asleep next to it.
We could not arouse him, and although he was alive, he was cold, stiff, and hard as a board. I remember touching his thigh and thinking how hard it was. The two of us struggled mightely to haul the 200 pound man aboard. We sent a message to the Barrow clinic to have a vehicle meet us at the airstrip. He was still unconcious when we transferred him to their ambulance.
A few days later, the clinic reported he was fully recovered and had been sent home. Our training had paid off. The mission was letter perfect, or so I thought. The Contract Monitors thought it was only a "satisfactory" deployment of the team. I always wondered what it would take to get an "excellent" rating. I filed a formal protest but never heard from anybody.