What was supposed to be my first, real job never went as planned. In fact, the first week provided such trial and tribulation that it changed my life, and the lives of others involved, forever.
I was 20 years old and had just left college after only two years of study. After telling my parents a simple lie of wanting to explore other schools and potential Masters programs, I packed up whatever I could cram into my dad’s 1978 Chevette and headed west. Eventually, I found comfort in a secluded ski-resort town deep in the Teton mountains of Wyoming.
Arriving in late Fall, I enjoyed the emptiness of the place. It almost felt like a ghost town most days. I simply moseyed around at first, taking in the fresh mountain air while living out of a road-side motel near the base of the large, surrounding mountains.
This lasted a few weeks until I noticed a Help Wanted sign in the window of the laundry mat. The ad was for several open positions at the local ski resort and hotel. Sparking my interest the most was the need for Search and Rescue personnel. I had no professional experience, but figured my summer life-guarding at the local pool back home and achieving the rank of Eagle Scout might give me an edge over other candidates. So I scribbled the number in my pocket notepad, which was mostly used for sketching the surrounding scenery, and rushed back to the motel.
“Thank you for calling Big Valley Ski and Sky, we are currently closed until the start of ski season in December,” a female’s voice softly responded after dialing the number from my motel bed.
A long, silent pause lingered before the voice returned, “…Hello? Are you there?”
“Oh!” I quickly rambled, “I…I uh was calling…uh help wanted sign in town.”
“Ok…you’re calling about a job?” she asked, confused.
“Yeah, I uh…sorry, I thought from your tone that it was an answering machine.” I stated, still stammering.
“Ha!” She laughed, “Oh no, no answering machine here on the mountain. Not that fancy. Hell, the phone lines barely work if we get a bad storm. I’m guessing you’re not from around here?”
“No.” I replied, “I’ve just moved to the area and I’m looking for work. I was wondering if there was still an opening on the Search and Rescue team.”
“Yeah, we could always use a qualified S & R member. What’s your experience?” She inquired.
“Well, I have years of first aid training and practice. And I’ve been skiing a few times when I was younger.” I said, instantly regretting the naiveté of my response.
“That’s….that’s it?” She seemed confused, and with good reason.
“Yes….but I’m a hard worker and have tons of free time at the moment to learn more.” I said, trying to polish my previous response.
“Well, we’re getting our staff geared up for the ‘87/’88 season and could use all the help we can get,” she replied. “They’re calling for quite the winter up here this year. How about I schedule you to come speak with our manager tomorrow afternoon and go from there?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’ll be there!” I said.
“Great, so just come out here around 2 o’clock.” She continued, “Head up the mountain road about 6 miles, turn left into our maintenance drive and park on the back side of the hotel. If you get to the dead-end at the old widow’s house, then you’ve gone too far. Don’t go near her cabin, just simply turn around and head back down the mountain until you find our entrance.”
I responded, “Sounds good, thank you so much. I’m looking forward to it.” We ended the chat and I returned the receiver to the phone base.
The next day, I drove out to the resort and met the voice behind the phone call, Sammi. She was a petite beauty who, similar to myself, had left home a few years back and found solace in the quiet mountain life. It took everything in me not to focus on her sweeping, blonde hair as she showed me around the 30-room hotel at the base of the resort.
The building was U-shaped, with guest rooms on both sides, surrounding a small courtyard out back which contained a few scattered chairs and an open fire pit that looked out on the main slope of the adjacent mountain. The help-desk was to the right of the lobby, directly across from a large bar adorned with mounted wild-life and rugged, wooden trim that solidified the warm lodge feeling.
A few years my senior, Sammi seemed very seasoned in the lingo of snow skiing and resort life, something I knew absolutely nothing about. I tried my best to retain everything she was telling me, even writing information on my notepad at times, but every time she looked my way, I was lost in her dark-green eyes.
Thankfully, the manager entered the lobby and saved me from the Sammi-trance I found myself stuck in.
“How’s it going?” He asked as we walked down the centered stairwell into the lobby to meet him. “You must be the eager-beaver looking for work on the S & R crew. Welcome aboard.”
He stepped toward us and extended his hand. He was older than Sammi, in his early forties at least, but had a much younger atmosphere about him. He had long, light-brown hair wrapped behind his ears, and wind-burnt cheeks suggesting he spent most of his time out on the mountains.
I shook his hand and replied, “Yes sir, I’m Robert. But people call me Bert.”
“Nice to meet you, Bert.” He stated as he motioned for me to follow him towards a door that read ‘Staff Only’ and continued with his spiel, “My name’s Tom and I try my best to keep things flowing smoothly around here. I see Sammi gave you the grand tour of the hotel, so I’ll take you back here to the staff quarters and then we’ll check out the rest of the slopes and designated zones.”
We walked through the kitchen and down a hallway until we reached the adjacent structure which read ‘Staff Housing- Men’ on the door. The building was separated into a handful of rooms, each containing two beds, and connected at the rear to a single bathroom with two stalls for toilets and one shower.
Tom explained the details for the living quarters, “Guys go in here, and there’ll probably be about five or six of you staying for sure. A couple of dudes live in town and commute out here during the day, but might need a place to crash some nights in peak season so we’ve got some folding cots to throw in if needed.”
“Where do the girls stay?” I asked, trying to hide my eagerness for more time with Sammi.
“We’ve converted a few guest rooms on the other side of the hotel for the female staff. This extra building is the furthest I can get you greenhorns away from everyone else, so please for the love of God behave yourself…especially around the guests,” He said with a stern tone, but as he cracked a slight smile, I could tell there was fun to be had on the grounds.
We continued out to the ski lift behind the hotel, at the base of the main slope. The property covered nearly three surrounding peaks, but most of the designated routes and lifts were contained to this first mountain. Tom said the Natives that used to inhabit the area called it Pauwau, which he couldn’t directly translate, but claimed it meant, “Lonely bear or something.”
After sorting through the Search & Rescue storage shed, Tom provided me with a few essentials: a first aid bag, a short-range radio for communicating, and a bright-red winter jacket marked with a white first-aid cross on the back.
We trekked back to the hotel. I noticed Tom had picked up his tempo a bit.
“After you get your belongings all sorted, I’ll have Chad or Jonny make sure you get all the rest of the info for the job requirements and what’s expected from the staff,” He spoke swiftly as we re-entered the lobby. “Those guys should be up here in a few hours to get settled in before the storm. Not sure if you heard, but sounds like Mother Nature’s gonna give us an early dose of suckage. They’re calling for a massive blizzard to hit in a few days.”
“No, I haven’t heard.” I responded, “I wasn’t really prepared for that. I had no idea blizzards happened this early in the year.”
“They don’t.” He stated abruptly, “I don’t think there’s been a bad storm this early in about 50 years. Guess we were due for it.”
With that foreboding statement, he ended our conversation and continued with his plans for the day. I made my way back to my dad’s old Chevette and grabbed my bags. As I turned back to the hotel, I caught a glimpse of dark clouds on the horizon.
In the moment, I only saw beauty as the grey, low-rolling clouds contrasted against the mountain peaks. Never could I imagine the absolute horror this storm would soon inflict as we became isolated, fighting for our lives.
Proceed to Part 2 here.
Cadbury Pringlebatch is the Operations Manager for The SoBros Network, but knows a little bit about everything. Known for frequenting Nashville YMCA steam rooms, he’s a firm believer that winning football is produced by moving the chains, and became a SoBro after mistaking one of our podcasts for an AA meeting. Follow on Twitter: @SoBroCadbury
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