Who's to blame for James Kim's death?
It's not the federal government or law enforcement or the people who tried to rescue him from the Oregon wilderness.
By Sarah Keech
Read more: Dianne Feinstein, San Francisco, Opinion
AP Photo/Grants Pass Daily Courier, Jim Kroi
Kati Kim holds her daughter, 7-month-old Sabine Kim, in the back of a helicopter after they and her other daughter, Penelope, 4, were rescued from a remote area of southern Oregon, Monday, Dec. 4, 2006.
Jan. 11, 2007 | Just after Thanksgiving of 2006, a young family of four from San Francisco went missing in the rugged mountains of southwestern Oregon. James Kim, his wife, Kati, and their two daughters took a risky journey into the wilderness, and only three of them made it out alive. As most Americans know, 35-year-old technology editor James Kim died of hypothermia after setting out on foot in the snow to seek help.
Some are now calling on authorities to remedy the supposed shortcomings in search and rescue procedure and federal law that were exposed in the effort to rescue the Kims. The most notable and emotionally charged voice is that of James Kim's father.
In an opinion piece in Saturday's Washington Post, Spencer Kim blasted, in turn, the local authorities who conducted the search, the legal barriers to procuring crucial credit card and phone-use information in a timely way, interference from the national media, and -- especially -- the fact that a gate across a road on federal land was left unlocked. If the gate had been properly signed and locked, he argued, his son would never have driven 21 miles down a long, deserted logging road. Several days before Kim's article, Sen. Feinstein, D-Calif., sent a letter to Interior Secretary Dirk Kempthorne complaining about the gate and demanding an investigation.
But, sadly, even if the search and rescue effort had been flawless, the results might not have changed. The disappearance of the Kim family and the untimely death of James Kim is not really about an unlocked gate, nor is it about credit cards or the purported shortcomings of any member of the search parties that tried to rescue the family.
Nearly every winter in the high mountains of the United States brings new stories of travelers who take wrong turns, of skiers who wander off groomed slopes and snowmobilers who run out of gas miles from civilization. In an era of cellphones and GPS, it's hard for those inexperienced in the wild to understand that it is still possible to get well and truly lost. It is still possible to be overwhelmed by the forces of nature, and there is not yet any foolproof remedy for human error and a lack of luck.
Here is what happened to the Kims:
According to an entry in a timeline prepared by law enforcement officials for Oregon Gov. Ted Kulongoski, the Kim family stopped to eat at a Denny's in Roseburg, Ore., just off Interstate 5, at about 8 p.m. on Saturday, Nov. 25. They had called ahead to a motel at Gold Beach on the Oregon coast to ask that a key be left for them, because they would be arriving late. It was raining, and they would have a three-hour, 130-mile drive along Highway 42 up and over the Coast Range mountains before they reached the Pacific Ocean. Instead of reconsidering and stopping for the night along I-5, they set out into the darkness.
The Kim family reportedly missed the exit for Highway 42 just a few miles south of Roseburg. Instead of backtracking, they kept driving south on I-5, and then turned off the highway in search of an alternate route across the Coast Range. Their ultimate goal was something called Bear Camp Road. It hasn't yet been officially reported which map the Kims were using, but the 2006 Rand McNally Road Atlas makes a sharp distinction between Bear Camp and Highway 42. The latter is considered a "principal highway," whereas the route the Kims chose is labeled "other road." Much of it passes directly through the Siskiyou National Forest at altitudes of up to 4,200 feet.
"It's a narrow, winding mountain road with very few pull-offs," said Patty Burel, a spokeswoman for the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest. "It's only one lane, so if two cars approach each other, one might have to back up to find a pull-off so the other can pass." Bear Camp Road is known for approximately 40 miles of twists, turns and white-knuckle driving -- even in the summer.
In winter, the Forest Service does not close Bear Camp Road because it is a popular recreation area for hunters, snowmobilers and people seeking Christmas trees. Most winter road use comes from local residents, noted Burel, and those drivers are better prepared for the conditions.
All of that would have been news to the Kims. But they did know that it had begun to snow as they climbed into the mountains, and they might have seen several large yellow signs along their chosen path warning of road closures ahead due to snow.
Ultimately, they came to a fork in the road, where Bear Camp splits into Forest Service Road 23 on the left and a Bureau of Land Management logging road, its entrance unlocked, on the right. A sign on the left-hand fork, the continuation of Bear Camp, points travelers to the coast. The Kims turned right instead onto BLM 34-4-38 and drove 21 miles. Low on gas, they stopped for the night on the logging road. By morning, their Saab station wagon was mired in snow.
The Kims had violated a number of rules that would have been familiar to locals or to experienced backwoodsmen, but perhaps not to them. They had left too late at night, they had left the main road, and they hadn't turned around or tried to back up once it began to snow and their gas tank edged toward empty. More than once they had forged ahead when they should've backtracked to the known world and safety.
Earlier in 2006, the Stiver family of Ashland, Ore., encountered a similar situation. The family of six were headed to the Oregon coast in their motor home in March when they got stuck in the snow on a logging road not far from where the Kims wound up. The Stivers were missing for two weeks before being rescued.
But all six of them were rescued. Much of their good fortune was due to following a cardinal rule of the wilderness, even if they did so inadvertently. They came prepared. The Stivers family was in a 36-foot-long house-on-wheels that was stocked with food and supplies left over from the Y2K scare. The Kims, on the other hand, were reportedly traveling through the Siskiyou with the bare essentials, something experts warn against even in good winter weather. And tire chains are recommended equipment even for those drivers in the Oregon-California border area who stick to I-5.
"Transportation of any kind during the winter, whether you are driving, skiing, snowmobiling, you need to be prepared, especially in the backcountry where help isn't going to be immediately available," related Steve Rollins, a 10-year veteran of Portland (Oregon) Mountain Rescue. He was not involved in the search for the Kim family, but was part of the search and rescue effort for three missing climbers on Mt. Hood late last year. "It's always a good idea to have a survival kit with non-perishable food, water, iodine tablets and extra clothes and blankets."
Next page: What is truly troubling is Kim's specific criticism of the work of those who tried to rescue his son
