Lessons and 'Lessons'
Someone I knew at TechTV sent out an email last week alerting former coworkers to a column in the Washington Post by Spencer Kim, the father of James Kim, the technology journalist who died in the southern Oregon mountains last month after becoming stranded in a snowstorm with his wife and two daughters. "Becoming stranded" might be too passive a construction. I'll get back to that.
Spencer Kim's piece is titled "The Lessons in My Son's Death." I'm sure everyone who paid attention to the news in December, anyone who stopped and pondered even for a moment James Kim's fate, saw some lessons to be drawn. I wondered how James's father would approach the subject; whether, for instance, he might mention his son's and daughter-in-law's decision to drive into a storm on an unknown mountain road, or whether he might find anything at all in their behavior that could serve as a lesson to others.
In a word, no. His first "lesson"? That officials take measures to prevent accidental access to byways like the remote logging road on which James Kim and his family ended up. Fair enough--and Senator Dianne Feinstein, perhaps with Spencer Kim's urging, is asking the Interior Department why that road wasn't gated and locked as it was supposed to have been the weekend the family blundered down it. The senior Kim takes a swipe at the state road map his son used, too, saying it "misled" him by depicting the route they chose as a major thoroughfare; the map may do that, but it also advises that the road is closed in winter, an advisory James Kim either ignored or somehow overlooked.
Spencer Kim suggests Congress change privacy laws to allow families to gain immediate access to credit-card records in missing-persons cases or other emergencies. No argument there. Kim also thinks search-and-rescue officials should be better prepared and trained. Media accounts make it clear that local officials in the Oregon counties responsible for the search managed only a confused an ineffective response; the undersheriff supposedly in charge of the search refused to take a Saturday-night call from the county's search-and-rescue coordinator because he was watching a college football game on TV. So no argument there, either. And Kim wants the FAA to do a better job keeping airborne media gawkers out of the way of legitimate search-and-rescue flights. The incident he complains of wouldn't have changed the outcome for James Kim, but fixing the problem he describes might save someone else's life, so it ought to be done.
Spencer Kim's little essay is sober and devoid of rancor. But I also find it heart-breaking. Yes, here's a father who tried everything in his power to save his son. He has suffered the worse loss a father could suffer. Now, he's identifying the reasons his son died: Careless federal workers. A bad map. Blind obedience to privacy laws. Mediocre police work and a careless, disorganized search.
There's an uncomfortable degree of substance to everything he charges, explicitly or implicitly. But, in drawing lessons, he's omitting the people and the series of steps in the process that would have made all the other factors immaterial: The decision by James and his wife to drive up a road through the wilderness in the rain; the failure to heed a series of signs warning that snow often blocked the road; the decision to keep on after the rain turned to snow; the decision to keep driving down an unknown road long after it was obvious they were not retracing their steps back toward safety.
Yes, that road gate should have been locked. Yes, the search might have been faster and should have been more efficient. Truth is, though, once you deal yourself a hand as bad as James Kim and his wife dealt themselves, lives are on the line. So: Fix everything Spencer Kim says to fix. But along with that, include a lesson on exercising common sense: Let people know where you're going and the route your taking. Be aware of the weather along your route. Don't head out into unknown territory in the winter without thorough preparations: food, water, fuel, flashlights, candles, batteries--the whole nine yards. Gas up. Ask the locals about the roads you want to take. Pay attention to advisories on maps and signs--they could well mean something. And if it starts to snow, and you don't know where you are, and you don't see any houses or other cars, and you really haven't done this kind of thing before, and you have two young children in the backseat, turn around while you still can.

Well said, my friend.
Posted by: Pete Danko | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 09:19 AM
Very Well said. Common Sense must always enter into the equation and so many times there is just no common sense.
Posted by: Mike Kilkenny | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 01:35 PM
Yes...a bit of common sense. Sorry, but personal responsibilty has to figure in the equation.
Posted by: jb | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 03:47 PM
Personal responsibilty? You call yourselves Americans?
Posted by: Lydell | Monday, January 08, 2007 at 04:51 PM