#MyParkStory: A midnight rescue - Keela Burt, Indiana Dunes National Park

Law Enforcement Ranger Keela Burt posing with a butterfly on her shoulder.

Keela Burt

My Park Story began by working in the state parks of North Dakota. That experience inspired me to push the boundary and transition to the National Park Service. I was fortunate to have two great mentors in ND state parks that helped me realize that my dream of going to the National Park Service could become an obtainable goal with some hard work. The first step was getting through seasonal law enforcement academy. From then on, I knew I was doing exactly what I wanted to be doing, law enforcement in national parks.

My favorite part of working in law enforcement for the National Park Service is the variability in what I will do on a day-to-day basis. I may show up to work and do foot patrols on the beaches, allowing me to interact with many individuals from many different places with varying backgrounds and life experiences. It seems there’s always a way to make a connection with each person, whether it’s by where they’ve grown up, places they have visited, animals they may have, or even a shared favorite food. I thoroughly enjoy talking to the public and finding those connections. Morning to afternoon could look completely different. It could be anything from responding to an EMS call, a wildfire, or serving a search warrant. The necessity of being prepared for the unknown is a key part of the job, and one that makes me excited to come to work each and every day.

A memory that I reflect on often, was my first search and rescue. I had just become a permanent U.S. Law Enforcement Park Ranger at Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and it was wintertime. The park is part of the badlands, and as such, the geography of the land is very rough and has dense ground vegetation and steep buttes, complicating even simple navigation. I had only been working there for about a month when I received a call after hours for two park visitors that had been photographing the wild horses and were unable to find the trail to return to their vehicle. It was dark at the time that they had called, and it was very cold out, the ground was covered in snow and ice. It was about a 20-mile drive into the park, and there was little to no cell service. Once my Chief arrived, he and I headed into the wilderness to locate the individuals. The moon was so bright that we didn’t have to use flashlights. I remember being so excited and amped up to be doing what I had trained so hard to do, but I had to remind myself that the individuals we were trying to locate were most likely afraid, and this may be a negative experience for them. With that in mind, when we located them, I approached them appropriately to comfort and reassure them that we would get them out safely and not with an excited energy that would send them the wrong message.

While we were navigating to the individuals, they had recontacted dispatch and informed them that one of the individuals was injured and unable to walk, changing our extraction plans and requiring us to contact a life flight helicopter. My Chief and I located the individuals seated on the side of a butte, cold and without any water. We waited for the helicopter to arrive; they dropped down right into the canyon area we were in. We carried the individual to the helicopter, loaded them in, and off they went. With one visitor safely evacuated, we now had to get back out of the canyon area and navigate back to the road.

The trip back was much more difficult, as we now had the other visitor with us along with their belongings, which we carried for them. The terrain was rugged and steep, every surface was slippery, and the hike back seemed never-ending with obstacle after obstacle arising. We were finally able to see the road, however, we had to first cross a giant crevice that was about 5 feet wide and so deep you could not see to the bottom. My chief made it across, we then helped the visitor across, which just left me on the other side. The jump seemed so daunting with such a serious consequence if I were to not make it, but there was no other option. I ran and jumped as far as I could. Fortunately, I was able to clear the crevice and continue hiking toward the now visible road.

As we made it back to the road, there were several other responders awaiting us to help in any way they could. By that time, it was around 2:00 a.m. and as we stood around and debriefed the incident, I recall feeling warmth on my knee. I pulled my pant leg up, and I had a large cut on my knee that was bleeding. Somewhere along the adventurous rescue, I had cut my leg and didn’t even notice. That cut is now a scar and holds a story I will never forget. That night felt like a movie. From the hiking by moonlight, to the helicopter flying in, to having to slide down the side of an icy butte because it was the only way to go.

I couldn’t help but chuckle afterward and think, “this is only the beginning of a crazy, unpredictable, adventure of a career, and I can’t wait to see what comes next.” Four years later, and I still have that same thought all the time. The opportunities to explore the lands of the National Park Service and create lifelong memories exist heavily in the career of a U.S. Law Enforcement Park Ranger, you just have to be willing to go find them.