Page 45 - Flathead Living // Spring 2016
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edge of the trees. The crash played on the nightly news for most of the fol- lowing week, becoming indelibly etched in the memory of the country.
After over a month in a coma, the rst conscious moment Bill Johnson remem- bered is talking to his mother on May 4, some six weeks after the fall. Doctors remained cautious about his recovery. He would have to re-learn how to speak, how to walk, how to manage even the simplest of tasks, like tying his shoes. His memory remained spotty for sev- eral months and then began to ll with dates, people and events. He remem- bered nothing of the ‘90s leading up to his comeback bid. He did not remember his father’s death. He did not remember getting divorced.
He did not remember the fall.
One year after the fall, he returned to Big Mountain to thank the people who saved his life and to attempt to jog his memory. His day started with a 5 a.m. wakeup call for a 5:30 a.m. live feed with a national television network in New York City. They discussed his participa- tion in the opening ceremonies of the recent Salt Lake City Olympics. Johnson said Big Mountain seemed familiar, but he believed it was familiar because it is similar to Crested Butte, Colorado, where he served as the ski ambassador in the late ‘80s. In a following interview, he continued to focus on the similarity with Crested Butte.
Riding the Big Mountain Express chairlift, Johnson commented, “I know this mountain, but it was somewhere else. I never raced in Montana.” The chair reached the top. He pointed to the large bowl dropping o the summit, “The Downhill goes down there and it used to go on that little road, but they cut the trail below and took out the at part.” He shook his head, “But I never raced here. It must be somewhere else.”
As Johnson glided o the lift, camera crews lay in wait anxious to document the return. Four TV cameras, two sound booms, assorted print media, several still photographers. Big Mountain per- sonnel attempted to guide the unruly
“HE WAS BECOMING HYPOXIC, NOT ENOUGH OXYGEN IN HIS BLOOD. HIS PULSE WAS DROPPING AND HIS COLOR CHANGING. IT WAS THEN WE INSERTED
A BREATHING TUBE.”
CHARLIE CHARMAN
mass of swarming journalists from the o -loading area of the chairlift.
The word was out. Bill Johnson was back. Big Mountain locals stopped and greeted the familiar Johnson, “Hey Billy, it’s great to see you back.”
He waved and smiled at each one. “It’s great to be back.”
After skiing down to the crash site, Johnson stood talking to the gathered media.
No, he doesn’t remember crashing. Doesn’t remember the last 10 years. He feels very con dent on skis.
As the questions and answers ow, a single ski patrol in a telltale red jacket skis down and stops next to Bill Johnson.
Taking his glove o , he holds out his hand. “Bill, I’m Chris Burke.”
Bill shakes his hand. “Were you one of the patrol that helped me?”
“I was the rst one down.”
Johnson smiles, “Thanks, thanks a lot.”
“It’s really good to see you skiing.” “It’s really good to be skiing.”
AT THE END of the day, the press assembled in the large replace room in the Kintla Lodge at the base of Big Mountain.
Behind a table, facing the media, Bill Johnson sat with Charlie Charman, the rst doctor to reach him after the crash. Brian Schott, with Big Mountain Resort, introduced the two men. Finishing with, “It’s great to have Bill back and to have him back skiing on the mountain.” Schott opened the questions.
Before anyone could ask a question, Bill Johnson smiled and looked over at Charlie. “I want to thank you.” They shook hands.
“You’re welcome. I am glad I could be there.”
Johnson looked back at the gathered journalists. “I came back to thank the people that helped me after my crash.” He paused. “To meet all the doctors and ski patrol that helped me. It is really good to be back.”
The question was asked of Charman: What were Johnson’s injuries when he reached him? He listed o several
Bill Johnson went into a coma following a crash at a competition at Big Mountain.
FLATHEAD LIVING S SPRING 2016 43

