The Last Text

By Travis Dotson

Analyst

Wildland Fire Lessons Learned Center

[This is Travis’s “Ground Truths” column from the 2024 Fall Issue of Two More Chains.]

It’s a punch in the gut when you hear that a friend “died suddenly.” Your mind immediately goes to the unpleasant ways one dies suddenly. Then you think: “Damn. I was texting with them not that long ago,” which leads to an immediate fast-finger fumble through recent word bubbles on your little screen machine. And there it is . . . the last text. Ever.

The whole damn situation is sad, but something about that last text is especially forlorn. For me, it’s hard not to go down the dark roads in the bad neighborhoods of my brain. “Should Have Lane” and “Maybe Road” are nothing but blind curves, steep slopes and soft shoulders—all the conditions that will pull you off the edge. I know it’s a bad idea to go down those roads, but I seem to jump in and flatten the gas pedal without buckling-up or letting anyone know I’m headed out. So much for “Risk Management.”
 

How do we take care of ourselves when we aren’t so good at looking before leaping? We do the work and get better at knowing when to scout and slow roll.

I know I am not the only one who has spent dangerous minutes looking back at the last text from an unexpectedly dead friend. Those minutes are dangerous because of the stories we start to spin about what we should have done, said, or intuited. Many of us have been there and will no doubt be there in the future. It might be good to put some thought into how we handle this and other heavy moments.

Self-Check

We have gotten so much better at checking in with folks in the off season. We are inundated with reminders to do buddy checks immediately post-season and into the dark days of winter. This is important—keep it up. It’s just as important to know how to do a self-check—especially if you are about to wander into a known hazard zone, like the land of shoulda/woulda via the last text. 
 

Self-checks can be challenging. I admit that I am not always honest. Our “Suck it Up” culture makes “I’m good” the only acceptable answer to: “How you doing?”—even when the only person I’m lying to is me. Sometimes the truth is: “I’m not good.” Honesty is a muscle. It needs regular workouts to come through when you need it most. Do the work before the bad thing happens. 
 

When you gear up, you don’t do it half-ass and figure: “it’s cool, the buddy check will catch any fatal flaws.” Nobody respects that approach. You do the work to make sure your gear is dialed beforehand, and you practice the steps to suit-up right. Hell-yeah your buddy is gonna check each strap, but that’s a backup system. YOU are the primary.
 

An honest check-in on how YOU yourself are doing is a skill. Practice it. Have some benchmarks, like the fire danger sign with the cartoon bear outside the station. If you are tracking on the current conditions, you have a better idea what the response needs to look like when lightning strikes.
 

Unfortunately, most of us have or eventually will hear about a friend who died unexpectedly. It happens. That is a tough moment. What you do in that moment matters, it sets the trajectory. This is a good time for a tac-pause and self-check. How are you doing? What can you handle right now? Maybe all you need is a deep breath. Or maybe right now just isn’t the time to thumb through that last text. Maybe you need to go for a run or phone a friend. Check in with yourself and move cautiously, it helps with survival.
 

Make Good Decisions, Tool Swingers.