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When Anchorage police officer Will Cameron reached the scene of the June 1 plane crash in Fairview, so much was going on it's kind of blurry in his mind -- the plane smoking, the fire flaring, people struggling to hold up one of the wings, rescuers trying to pull the pilot from the wreckage.
A Cessna packed with five people, lumber, tile and groceries had taken off from Merrill Field and slammed into a building at Seventh Avenue and Ingra Street. The family aboard, and a teen who would be their babysitter, had been headed to a Lake Clark lodge. Cameron was patrolling a few blocks away when the alarm went out. It took maybe 30 seconds for him to arrive at the crash scene. A rescue effort was already under way. Within seconds of the crash, many ordinary people faced a moment of decision: Help or stay away. People who helped -- more than three dozen of them -- came from cars and trucks that just happened to be driving by at that moment. They came from nearby businesses -- a gas station, a hotel, car dealerships. They came, like Cameron, because it was their job. In each case, they raced toward the wreck and put the people inside the plane ahead of their own safety. Some struggled to lift the plane so others could reach the passengers trapped inside. Some wielded fire extinguishers. They braved heat and smoke, and the danger of a fuel explosion. In the end, they had less than five minutes to help, less than five minutes until fire engulfed the plane. In the end, they got four of the five passengers from the wreckage. The fifth, a 4-year-old boy, died. The four survivors: in Lower 48 hospitals still suffering from severe injuries. SAVING THOSE INSIDE The pilot's door was jammed shut, said Mike McCabe, one of the first on the crash scene, because the plane was tilted down. "Even if you could get the pilot door open, you could only open it a couple inches before it hit the ground." McCabe and a co-worker at Affordable Used Cars across Ingra Street rushed to the burning plane, carrying fire extinguishers from their office. At that point, there were more spectators than helpers, he said, with some staying back out of fear the plane would blow up. He and his co-worker sprayed the fire until enough people came to lift the wing up and allow rescuers to reach inside the wreck. Capt. Erik Boltman of the Alaska Air National Guard was in traffic next to the crash site as the plane fell. He helped rip off the plane door and pull out the bleeding pilot, police said. Air Force Staff Sgt. Jacob Gibson was driving home on Sixth Avenue, seconds from the crash site. It was chance that he was there. A military report of the crash and its aftermath noted that Gibson didn't usually take that route. Boltman, Gibson and Officer Cameron led the brief, intense effort to save those on board, said police Lt. Garry Gilliam, who is interviewing participants in the rescue, trying to sort out who did what. RESCUING TWO MORE Cameron grabbed an extinguisher and sprayed inside the plane until smoke and fumes choked him. He took breaths of fresh air, then went back in. The fire burned more fiercely by the minute. At the Ingra House across the street, night manager Tom Sullivan raced over, clutching some of the hotel's fire extinguishers. As the pilot was being moved, someone inside the plane held up a 2-year-old, the pilot's son, and a volunteer rescuer whisked away the toddler. Gibson, the Air Force sergeant, reached in to get the teenage babysitter from the back of the plane. He and Cameron dragged her out and handed her off to another police officer two or three feet away. "After that the flames were getting worse. Every time they picked up the airplane, it seems like the flames got bigger," said Cameron. The pilot's wife and their 4-year-old were still inside. HEAT, SMOKE INTENSIFY Hunter Brosh, a computer expert and ex-Marine, had been driving on Ingra, and stopped to help. Army National Guard Lt. Col. Peter Savage hurried over from The Rice Bowl restaurant around the corner. They were among those who propped up the wing so Cameron and Gibson could work on pulling out the wife. She was caught between the front seat and the dashboard. Sgt. Gibson did not want to be interviewed for this story, but did talk to a representative of the Air Force's Third Wing public affairs office. Here's what he said about his attempt to save Stacie Cavner: "I grabbed her up underneath her arms and was trying to pull her free, the flames were all around her and there were about two people with fire extinguishers. ... I couldn't physically pull her out (because) she was pinned so bad, and this green mushroom cloud came out and it hit me and the cop behind me. I dropped to the ground and I rolled out of the way so the cop could get in there." Officer Cameron moved in. "I went in after her with other people -- I remember there being hands reaching to grab her," Cameron said. During this struggle, Savage, holding the wing, remembers yelling "Just pull her out," and saying the fire would harm her more than any injuries from the rescue. Stacie Cavner was almost out, but got stuck on something, Cameron said. He tried to cut her free with his pocket knife. The knife got so hot he had to drop it. "I just yanked her out," he said. She came free. By then, she was unconscious. While the pilot, Preston Cavner, was still conscious, Boltman had the clarity of mind to ask him how many people were on board, and tell him a child, the mother and a teenager had been removed. The pilot said there was a second child inside. "I wanted to go back," Cameron said. Flames were intense. He grabbed a fire extinguisher from someone and started spraying into the cockpit where the child was trapped. Then he heard a "woosh." The rescuers knew what that meant. They ran from the plane as it was consumed by flames. Just four minutes and some seconds had passed since the alarm went out on the police radio network. "It's like your worst nightmare going on forever," said Cameron. A SAD OUTCOME Preston, Stacie and 2-year-old Hudson Cavner were horribly injured and remain in critical condition at a Portland hospital. The babysitter, 16-year-old Rachel Zientek, was seriously injured and is in a Seattle hospital. The Cavner's 4-year-old son, Myles, was pinned under the dashboard and died. Gibson and Cameron were treated for smoke and chemical inhalation at a local hospital. The National Transportation Safety Board is investigating the cause of the crash. Its preliminary report cites witnesses who said the plane appeared to be laboring, and was not climbing. The report does not draw conclusions about what happened. Some of the volunteer rescuers were still traumatized two weeks after the crash and didn't want to be interviewed. Police are offering counseling services to anyone who was there and needs help dealing with the tragedy, said Lt. Gilliam. "There's a lot of the community that really helped out. And I want to tell them, thank you," said Cameron. "They need to be thanked and recognized." Tammy Zientek of Houston, Texas, whose daughter Rachel was saved, believes God is looking out for her child, to have people such as Sgt. Gibson happen to be standing ready when the plane came down. And people with fire extinguishers in their vehicles. "When I think of the people that day that stopped just to lend a hand in the moment, I was very proud," said Lt. Col. Savage. He explained that he didn't really think about the fire and the fuel tank over his head at the time. "We just wanted to get the people out."