Eleanor Deckert
Part two of a two-part feature –
1 Corinthians 13:13 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love.”
Back story
By the autumn of 1969 a confident, 39-year-old Father Emil Sasges was ready to begin a new chapter.
Since his assignment in 1965 to serve the towns along the North Thompson Valley, he had stimulated volunteers to build a residence/Catholic center in Blue River and a duplex residence/church in Valemount.
Ever-growing connections with the Anglican, United Church and Mormon pastors, encouraged Sasges to state: “I have enthusiastically followed my vision of leading others to a personal commitment to Christ which bears fruit in service to others.”
Filled with a rare gladness, Sasges enjoyed a three-day canoe trip with friends through Bowron Lakes. Heading for home in his tiny aircraft, a Jodel D-11, on Sept. 12, 1969, an unexpected chapter became central to Father Sasges’ story.
Hope
Sasges had 12 years experience as a pilot as he crossed over the snowcapped Cariboo Mountains along a familiar route. He had flown the Jodel under all kinds of situations: to Saskatchewan, St. Louis, Missouri, twice to Alaska and all over B.C.
He expected the 100 mile flight to take one hour but weather closed in from all sides. Unable to continue or to fly back, an emergency landing on an alpine meadow on Black Stuart Mountain (located between Bowron Lakes and Quesnel Lake) looked like the best option.
A sudden gust of wind flipped the plane, broke a wing and left him stranded in a fierce wind and snowstorm.
With minimal supplies (he had given his extra camping gear to a friend) but a great deal of practical experience, skillful hands and a constructive imagination he began to fashion survival gear: a shelter under the broken plane filled in with snow and sod, a canteen from a bread bag, a sleeping bag using fabric from the plane’s wings stuffed with grass, a pack board from the tail and seat-belts.
From the first day he rationed his meagre food supplies: some bread, six buns, oatmeal, chocolate bar and powdered milk, chocolate, potatoes, soup mix, and orange drink.
For clothing he had a suit, summer jacket, down jacket and sweater, two pair of socks and his best shoes. Tools include a Swede saw, jackknife, first aid kit, needle and thread, fabric bandages, motor oil, matches, wrenches, pliers, side cutters, screwdriver, and hacksaw.
“I also had a little bit of wine – which I rationed out at three drops a day for daily Mass, some hosts and a small chalice. I realized I should stay with the plane. That was my best hope.”
Three times search planes came near, even directly above him, but because of the hazardous terrain, the vast search area, stormy clouds, fog in the valleys and the way the planes turned, Sasges was never spotted. His signal fire, mirrors, running, even the yellow canvas of the Jodel, did not attract attention.
And so 14 cold, rainy, wind-howling days passed. Hope waned and he prepared to walk out, following what he thought to be the sound of nearby logging machinery.
Faith
“I converted my log book into an abbreviated diary of daily events. I wrote the fifth evening: Should the search fail, I shall then have the joy of being directly with God and His chosen. This thought is mixed with sorrow now at the possibility of being unable to work for and with the people I so dearly love, for God’s sake. I place myself in God’s providence, who can bring great things out of this tragedy that I have brought upon myself.”
Carrying what he could, saying Mass daily, sustained by the hymns and prayers of the previous gathering and the many friends he knew were interceding for him, Sasges experienced continuous hardships and complete isolation.
Confused by echoing sounds of machinery, exhausted by slopes, pierced by devil’s-club thorns, scraped by tangled fallen trees, soaked by the crossing of rivers and swamps, enduring frigid nights and hungry days, he continued his walk. Even the supplies he carried were swept away by the river’s current.
After nine days and nights, three river crossings, now reduced to crawling, he came to the river’s edge again. His legs and feet were unresponsive because he had not taken off his shoes for the last three nights and trench foot was setting in.
Stripped of transportation, communication, orientation, nourishment, gear, shelter, and now physical abilities, he was still determined to give God his last effort. What was there left to hope for? To believe in? To care about?
And then he heard the sound of a motor.
Love
On day 22, a river boat carrying five hunters, scanning the banks for moose, came into view. Sasges waved and shouted, but the boat passed by.
“I collapsed overwhelmed at the thought that they didn’t see me.”
“There was only a window of about 30 seconds. The sound of the engine became quieter, then louder. They came back! The hunters had seen me! It was a marvel that after nine days of confused wandering, I was in that exact spot when they came by.” Father Sasges said with wonder.
“In 30 minutes I was in the hunting lodge eating warm soup when the search plane came. Forty minutes later I was in the Prince George hospital.”
Fourteen civilian, nine military and one RCMP plane had spent 539.2 hours of flying time in the search for Sasges.
Between 500-600 letters came flooding in from all over Canada and the USA. Magazine articles, radio and TV interviews and the reaction of his parishioners were overwhelming.
So many people had been concerned about one person wandering in the wilderness.
“The great marvel to me,” Father Sasges shared, now that nearly 44 years have passed, “is this: If we are attentive to the prayer Jesus taught us, we become aware that we have a great wonder here on earth – that we can live in such a way that God’s will be done as readily as it is done in heaven.”