A first responder with the Norman Fire Department was recently presented with an award for acts of extraordinary bravery incurred while en route to North Carolina to help save lives during Hurricane Helene, the devastating tropical cyclone last September that caused catastrophic damage and numerous fatalities across the Southeastern United States.
I recently talked by phone about that harrowing experience with NFD driver/engineer Levi Mulder, who on March 27 was presented with the Committee of 100’s William Hulsey Award during a ceremony in Oklahoma City. The Committee of 100 (Committeeof100ok.org), an agency honoring Oklahoma’s first responders since 1976, bestows the award to individuals for a “display of heroism above and beyond the call of duty in a life-threatening situation.”
Levi looks upon the successful deployment as miraculous, involving not one, not two, but multiple instances of events occurring at the exact instant required to assure they could continue the next step in their rescue efforts.
Levi, along with others in his and other OKC metro fire departments, were sent on the search and rescue mission through Oklahoma Task Force One (OKTF-1-OKC), a specialized urban search and rescue unit composed of firefighters throughout the metro and state. They (and their counterparts nationwide) are deployed as needed across the U.S. during major disasters, including hurricanes, tornadoes and building collapses. (OK-TF1-Tulsa was deployed to Florida.)
Late in the evening of Sept. 25, Levi recalls, he and the other members of the OKTF-1 swift-water rescue team begin their road trip to North Carolina. The convoy of five trucks and five trailers with rescue boats, a communications truck and trailer (command trailer) and a trailer carrying ATVs and large supply trailer, intercepts heavy rains and floods along the way.
Crossing from Tennessee into North Carolina on the 27th, they are warned that the interstate ahead is washed out, so they attempt a turnaround. Levi said he heard later that, nine to 10 minutes after they turned around, that portion of the interstate actually collapsed.
“So, we rallied back together and head north to find an alternate route over the mountains and into North Carolina, seeing tremendous flooding along the way. I remember seeing a very old church in Embreeville, Tennessee, which is located alongside the Nolichucky River, that was surrounded by flood waters, despite its location on a hill. [Ed.’s Note: Interestingly, the river, which runs through western North Carolina and East Tennessee, is nicknamed “The River of Death,” both for being dangerous and its history of floods.]
“As we make the curve, about to leave Tennessee and enter North Carolina, a law enforcement officer flags us down and tells us that the road ahead is washed out. We could see houses floating down the river along the highway.
“We attempt to turn our trucks and trailers around on the two-lane highway (that is a story in itself), but just as we do that, we were approached by a member of the local fire department, which actually has its own swift-water team; they tell us we are now trapped because the road is washed out on both sides. They request our help, and our task force leader agrees.
“They told our task force leader that one house had just floated past with a woman still hanging on to it, but that they had to focus their efforts on saving those people stranded on their still-stationary, but endangered, homes.”
Some of the unit, Levi said, went to try to help those stranded on stationary houses, while he joined others on his task force to see if they can help the woman on the house that has been swept downstream.
Levi explains that, in most cases, when a house is swept into floodwaters, a rescue isn’t possible because the structure generally just disintegrates upon hitting some large object in the water. And once in the water, which is filled with everything from trees to propane tanks to chicken coops, one’s chances of surviving are almost nil.
Miraculously, he said, this house had come to rest, still in one piece, against a massive tree. After a quick assessment by Levi’s group and the local swift-water rescue team, they decide the best chance of rescue is to motor the boat to an area behind the house, where an eddy had formed.
Levi volunteers to attempt the rescue. He is joined by Brent Koeninger, one of Levi’s fellow task force members.
Levi manages to steer the boat to the eddy behind the house, where they can still hear the woman screaming for help, though they have yet to determine her location. As they get into position, they hear a series of bangs and popping, at which point they realize the house is coming apart.
“Brent warns me to back out, and as we do so, the house comes apart,” Levi recalls. “There’s just so much stuff in the water…it’s not survivable. In that moment—there’s no time to think—we realize our options are to go right, to the shore and safety, knowing that if she falls into the water, she will be on the other side where we won’t be able to retrieve her.
“Instead, we take the second option, and move away from the shore and downstream, where there may be a chance of rescue. Downstream, the boat is fighting just to maintain its location. We are just hoping that when the house disintegrates, she will come out in our direction—and she does; she pops up out of the water only about 20 yards directly upstream from us.”
Levi pauses in the telling of this incredible story, searching for words to describe what comes next.
“Holy moly! She was in the ‘right’ spot—on her front porch rather than the back porch or in the attic or rooftop—and when the house goes, the water propels her right under the house to a spot near us. Brent grabs her … this was one of the toughest things we did—he grabs her arms, while pulling her up by her legs, while also attempting to steer the boat.
“We get her in, and have about 5 to 10 seconds of feeling great when we lose the motor. We shoot backward with the current, into an eddy around some massive trees. Brent throws a rope around a tree to hold us there while we troubleshoot the motor.
The woman, Vickie, was super tough; she went from praying to helping out however she could. She was all in.”
About that time, the house hits the tree to which they’re attached.
“Part of the roof slides under us and finally stops. Now the boat motor is way down in the water, and we are now on the roof trying to push it off. There’re lots of vines and leaves. We can’t figure it out at first—until we realize we are actually in the canopy of a 50-foot-tall or so tree.
“Meanwhile, other members of the task force on the shore are unable to see us. They can’t tell what’s going on, other than what we can convey via radio.
“A few minutes later, something big hits the tree, and it rolls the roof out from under us, putting us back into the water,” Levi recalls.
Then they hit another snag.
“I realized there’s a hoodie caught in the prop, so I use a knife to try to cut it…difficult since it’s wet and twisted. It takes a while, what seems like forever. Finally, the knife cuts through, and the boat is released.”
While working to cut the hoodie out of the propeller, which entails turning off the motor to keep it from overheating, he realizes the prop blades have been warped, which means he will need to reduce thrust upon restarting.
It takes some time to free themselves, as the tree is now across the boat. We need to physically pull the boat out of the trees and the debris caught in the trees, and we then pull toward the shore—at which point, I knew the danger would ramp up even more.”
Levi shares that, throughout the rescue, he’d experienced a quite normal level of anxiety and fear, but it was at that moment that his fear became truly acute.
“We shared names, and I tried to give Vickie a crash course on emergency swimming, let her know that the guys on shore would be throwing ropes at her, and so on. That was when Brent (he later told me) realized that I was getting prepared for the worst.
“The scariest part, at least for me, was pushing ourselves away from the tree, nose first, into the current. We had a very short time period to turn around, and we couldn’t use the motor at first because it continued to hang up. In the last minute, I manage to raise the motor up, while continuing to push against the tree to free us. I finally pop us loose. At that moment, I manage to start the motor (miraculously, on the first pull), drop it into the water and get the boat moving. We do a J turn, travel past the tree, angle to the shore and, finally, make landing.”
In the midst of their joyous victory celebration, Vickie learns that her husband, who had been on the back porch of the house and jumped into the waters, hadn’t made it, turning her tears of happiness to tears of sadness. So, though she had survived, she lost her husband, a pet and their horse ranch to the fury of Hurricane Helene.
Levi and other members of the OK-TF1 ended up helping save three other people, along with their pets, during that fateful day in September. Marooned, the unit sleeps outside that night.
“The next morning, we find a goat trail over the mountains, drive to another community, and spend two weeks there before making it back home,” he recalls.
Reflecting on the experience, Levi is grateful for many things, including his in-depth swift-water recovery training.
“We train a lot. Most guys will never get the opportunity to put their skills to use and make that kind of difference. It was, like, hey, that’s why I put in those 12 years of training! The payoff was everything you can imagine.”
Levi also keeps thinking about timing and fate:
If the interstate hadn’t closed, they would have gone on to their destination in North Carolina.
If they hadn’t been stranded in Embreeville, they wouldn’t have been there to attempt the rescue that led to the successful rescue of the homeowner, a woman in her late 50s or early 60s, whose work maintaining the ranch had helped keep her keep physically fit and able to assist in her own recovery.
If the house had disintegrated even moments earlier, all would have been lost, recovery made impossible.
If Vickie’s dive off the front porch hadn’t landed her so close to the boat, they wouldn’t have been able to retrieve her.
Call it fate, call it God’s will, call it a miracle. Call it what you will, Levi believes fortune or fate intervened— and that, plus the intensive training he had undertaken in swift-water recovery—led to one woman living to see another day, and a life forever changed for one Norman firefighter.
Quick side note: Neither Levi nor Brent suffered any injuries in this dangerous rescue operation—other than painful rashes. Apparently at least some of those vines in the tree were poison ivy.
After the Rescue: Recognition
Levi’s acts of heroism were lauded by Norman Fire Department captain Chris Atteberry, who said “Firefighter Mulder's actions that day exemplify the dedication, skill and bravery that define our profession.
“His willingness to risk his own life for the safety of others is a testament to the values we uphold as members of the Norman Fire Department,” added Atteberry, who also serves as president of Local 2067 Professional Firefighters Union.
NFD Deputy Chief Joel Chesser echoed that sentiment, acknowledging the bravery and commitment of Mulder and fellow firefighters:
“The NFD takes great pride in the life-saving efforts of Driver/Engineer Levi Mulder. This rescue operation is characterized by its low frequency and high risk, which significantly increases the challenges faced by rescuers and places them under intense pressure. Mulder, along with other members of the NFD, perfect these specialized skills through OKTF-1, a dedicated unit consisting of fire personnel from across Oklahoma. We are thankful for the people that are part of specialized service and rescue teams and the positive impacts they have made during national disasters.”