The New London Day, New London, CT
August 25, 1959
Recovery Of
Bodies Is Delayed
Twenty-eight
hours standing upright on a tiny mountain ledge from which they could not move
to escape driving rain and cold doomed two Ledyard men yesterday.
Alfred P.
(Freddy) Whipple, Jr., 20, and Sidney C. Crouch, Jr., 21, friends since boyhood
and neighbors on Col. Ledyard Highway, died of exposure on a mountainside at
Franconia, N. H., as rescuers reached them at 4:30 p. m.
This
afternoon, another party of mountain climbers was still trying to return their
bodies to the base of Profile Mountain. Like those who tried to reach Mr.
Whipple and Mr. Crouch alive, the climbers literally had to claw their way hand
over hand 400 feet up the almost perpendicular side of the granite mountain.
Made Ascent
Sunday
The Ledyard
men made their ascent Sunday over a route shunned by climbers familiar with the
area, just to the west of the storied Old Man of the Mountain, a rock formation
from which Profile Mountain takes its name. It is a spur of 4,060-foot Cannon
Mountain in the White Mountains’ Franconia Notch.
Mr. Whipple
and Mr. Crouch were clothed only in light cotton trousers and shirts.
Out of reach
only ten feet away form [sic] their perch and hang- away from their
perch and hang- of its straps was their knapsacks [sic]. It contained
warm clothing which might have enabled them to better withstand the rigors on
the cold, windy mountain.
Winds of 50
miles an hour drove heavy rain which at times was at the point of freezing. The
winds apparently had blown the knapsack from Mr. Whipple and Mr. Crouch. The
ledge on which they were marooned is only two feet wide and four feet long.
Forced to
Stand
The[y] could
neither sit nor lie down. Soon after their ordeal began Sunday night, they tied
themselves together and spent the entire time on their feet.
Alfred’s
father, Alfred P. Whipple, Sr., a contractor, and Sidney’s father, Sidney C.
Crouch, Sr., a well driller, had hurried to the scene Sunday night. They stood
at the base of the mountain with 1,000 curious [sic] who watched the
tortured climb of the rescue party.
Both fathers
were overcome when word was radioed down that their sons were dead.
In Ledyard,
the men’s mothers and other family members waited anxiously for word. But they
had hoped a rescue would be made. The realities of the rigors the men faced
were almost impossible to realize without actually being up on the mountain,
one of the rescue team members said.
Young Mr.
Whipple was the only son of the Whipples, who have four daughters. His mother,
Catherine, has been serving as a rural route carrier in southwestern Ledyard,
including Gales Ferry.
Sidney C.
Crouch, Jr., was the oldest of seven Crouch children. The young men went to Ledyard
Center School together and both were classmates at Norwich Free Academy in
1957. Mr. Crouch was a student at the Export (Pa.) Bible College. Mr. Whipple
was planning to return next month to enter his sophomore year at Brown
University in Providence.
An eight-man
rescue team, seven hours en route, was within 25 feet of the ledge when its
lead man heard a feeble cry:
“For God’s
sake hurry. We can’t hold out much longer.”
In the few
minutes it took to reach the pair, one appeared to be dead and the other was
delirious. The latter expired a few minutes later.
Special
tackle was required to get the bodies down. The rescue team, lacking the
necessary implements, was forced to leave the bodies there and returned to the
base of the mountain, exhausted.
Mr. Whipple
and Mr. Crouch, although they were used to roughing it, had little experience
in mountain or rock climbing. They had fashioned their own tools and apparently
learned from books what they knew about the sport.
No one in
the Franconia area could recall any previous attempts to scale Profile Mountain
at the point where the Ledyard men made their ascent.
The first
quarter-mile, from Rt. 3, is relatively easy to traverse, consisting mainly of
light timber. The second quarter mile is shale which has fallen from the
granite cliffs above over the centuries. It is slippery and treacherous when
wet.
‘Technical
Rock’
The final
400 feet up a rock wall to the ledge where the two were trapped is what
mountain climbers call “technical rock” and demands special skills and
equipment.
Their plight was
discovered just before dusk Sunday. At first, it was believed a helicopter
might be used to get them off but it was later considered impossible. Then,
members of the Appalachian Mountain Club, who last year developed a rescue plan
after two young people died on Mt. Washington under circumstances similar to
those on Sunday, were called in. They organized three teams and began ascending
at 7 a.m. yesterday, using climbing ropes tied to pitons--iron spikes driven into
rock crevices.
John E.
Taylor, 29, of Princeton, Mass., who led the team that climbed to the ledge,
said they found one man slumped over, either dead or dying. The other was
incoherent.
“He could
not understand what I was saying. He yelled at me. It appeared to be a
monotonous ‘hurry up.’
“I don’t
know which one it was. It might have
been the older one (Mr. Crouch). When I
got within 25 feet of him, his head was bobbing. He was standing erect with his
eyes closed.”
Cold Is
‘Ferocious’
Taylor said
that by the time he got near the marooned pair “I would have to grip a rock,
then loosen one hand with the other to move up.” He described the cold as
ferocious.
David
Sanderson of Portsmouth, N. H., climbed to the ledge and lowered the youth
still on his feet to Robert Collins of Brookline, Mass. standing 25 feet below.
Collins dressed him in warm clothing. But at that point he died.
Even with
special equipment, the team’s climb was at the rate of only 100 feet an hour.
They descended along the piton trail they had left in two hours. The pitons
were left in for those who are trying to recover the bodies today.
Mr. Whipple
and Mr. Crouch were ruggedly-built youths. They drove to New Hampshire in Mr.
Whipple’s car Friday night. A camper saw them climbing Sunday afternoon. Just
before darkness Sunday night, he saw them waving their shirts and the rescue
operation was set in motion. Climbers from as far distant as Boston came to the
scene to help.
Mr. Whipple
had been elected president of three of his four classes at Norwich Free
Academy, was a National Scholastic Honor Society member and a co-captain of the
NFA football team, with which he played for three years.
Was Brown
Student
In
September, 1957, he entered Brown but did not return last year, preferring to
get practical experience with his father in the construction field. He planned
to pursue a course leading to a degree in business administration at Brown next
month.
Mr. Whipple
was born in New Egypt, N. J., Jan. 28, 1939. Besides his parents he leaves four
sisters, Mrs. Calvin Fish of Bolton, Mrs. David Newman of New London, Sandra
Lee, an NFA student, and Christine, who attends Ledyard Center School; his
paternal grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. J. Alfred Whipple of Ledyard, and his
maternal grandmother, Mrs. Christine Beebe, West Palm Beach, Fla.
The Whipple
family attends Groton Heights Baptist Church.
Mr. Crouch
was born in Houston, Texas, July 30, 1938, the son of Sidney C. and Blanche
Phillips Crouch. In addition to his parents, he leaves four sisters, Fern, Emily, Gail and Edna; two brothers, Fred and
Paul, and his paternal grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Chauncey Crouch of Gales
Ferry.
The Crouch
family attends the Quakertown Church.
The Whipple
and Crouch homes are located within a mile of each other on Colonel Ledyard
Highway. The families moved there when the boys were young and they went to
school together.
Funeral
arrangements will be completed by the Byles Memorial Home.
Brown Student, Friend, Trapped on N.H. Cliff, Die as Rescuers Arrive
Providence Journal, Providence, RI
August 25, 1959 (pp. 1, 2)
Two youths,
one a sophomore at Brown University, perished on the gale-swept face of an
almost perpendicular 1,000-foot cliff at Franconia, N. H., yesterday, minutes
after a rescue team of expert mountain climbers had reached them.
The victims,
Alfred Whipple Jr., 20, of Gales Ferry, Conn., the Brown student, and Sidney
Crouch Jr., 21, of Ledyard Conn., a student at the Export, Pa., Bible
Institute, had been trapped on a narrow ledge on Profile Mountain since Sunday.
The finale
to the tragedy was dramatic. Late yesterday National Guard troops began moving
in antiaircraft searchlights. A rescue crew, hammering iron pitons into the
rock and lashing themselves to the mountain wall, inched upward and reached the
youths.
Then came
the radio messages.
The boys had
been found--they were far gone--they were delirious--and, finally, they were
dead.
Bodies of
the two were left on the ledge until today when they will be brought down.
The two
friends had undertaken to climb Profile Mountain, an arm of 4,060-foot Cannon
Mountain, by a route long shunned by experienced mountaineers.
Late Sunday
it was discovered that they were trapped
halfway up the great granite wall that
towers above the trees and heaped boulders. Efforts were begun at once to reach
them.
They were at
a spot where no helicopter could approach them, for they were clinging to a
ledge or outcrop of a mountain wall rising at an 85 to 90 degree angle.
Workers at
Cannon Mountain aerial tramway, who had noticed lights being flashed by the
stranded climbers, called George T. Hamilton, manager of the Appalachian
Mountain Club huts at Pinkham Notch, for expert assistance. Mrs. Robert L. M.
Underhill, a member of the AMC Mountain Leadership and Safety Committee,
rounded up a rescue squad.
They started
up the mountain at 3:30 yesterday morning under conditions described as
“awful”--driving rain, 38 degrees and high wind. They reached the young men
yesterday afternoon, and death came within minutes.
John E.
Taylor, 29, of Princeton, Mass., who led the seven-man group of climbers up the
trail the Connecticut pair had left--nearly straight up--talked with one of
them before he died. Mr. Taylor was not sure which one.
He said both
were dressed inadequately in light cotton trousers and shirts. He said one of
them was just able to speak, but the other was slumped over and either was
already dead or died shortly afterward. They had lashed themselves to the
rocks.
Mr. Whipple
was considered a fine student and an excellent athlete. He was president of his
high school class at Norwich Free Academy for three years and was co-captain of
the football team in his senior year. He was to return to Brown next month for
his sophomore year, after having dropped out for one year to work in his
father’s construction business.
Mr. Crouch
left high school after his third year and went into his father’s well-drilling
business. He had just completed his first year at the Bible institute.
This Account
of the attempt to rescue the two climbers was told last night to the Associated
Press by Mr. Taylor.
“The face of
the mountain was a torrent. It was pouring and the face was filled with
innumerable gullies through which streams dropped. The wind was blowing about
30 miles an hour and the spray was like it would be under a waterfall.
“On the way
up--we started at 7:30 this morning--our primary concern was to stay alive and
solve the problem of getting to the boys. We tried to joke and sing when we
could. Dave Sanderson and Spencer Wright were with me.
“We were
about 60 feet from the boys when I spoke to one of them. I yelled to him but he
couldn’t comprehend what I said. He hollered back. It was a monotonous,
incoherent yell that sounded like ‘Hurry up.’
“I don’t
know which one of them it was, it might have been the older one. He couldn’t
focus his eyes on me. He was standing erect and the other fellow was right
beside him, tied to him. We were surprised to find them so far gone.
“It took us
three-quarters of an hour to get up the next 35 feet. By that time the one who
had been speaking no longer could do so. He was standing erect with his eyes
closed and his head was bobbing.
“Dave
Sanderson climbed up the remaining 25 feet, tied up one of them, and lowered
him down. It was too late. We were
exhausted and we began our retreat down the mountain. It took us two hours to
get down.”
The New London Day, New London, CT
August 26, 1959
Friends
through much of their boyhood days, Alfred P. (Freddy) Whipple, Jr., 20, and
Sidney C. Crouch, Jr., 21, the Ledyard men who perished Monday on a tiny
mountain ledge, will have funerals together at 2 p. m. tomorrow in Groton
Heights Baptist Church.
Their bodies
were recovered at 4 p. m. yesterday from the sheer granite cliff on Profile
Mountain, near Franconia Notch, N. H., where they had been marooned at the
mercy of 50-mile an hour wind and heavy rains for 28 hours before they died as
rescuers reached them.
Bodies Brought
Here
The bodies
were brought last night to the Byles Memorial Home in New London, where friends
may visit from 7 to 9 o’clock tonight. After tomorrow’s service, Mr. Whipple
will be buried in Elm Grove Cemetery, Mystic, and Mr. Crouch will be buried in
Ledyard Union Cemetery.
Why did the
two men attempt the climb in cotton clothing, improper footgear and homemade
pitons, the spikes which climbers hammer into rock as they work their way up
mountains?
William
Putnam of Springfield, Mass., leader of the six-man crew which recovered the
bodies yesterday, thinks they might have gotten the idea from a book. He said
they were on the so-called Old Trail.
He wondered
whether they learned of it in their reading in preparation for the climb.
“I’m sure
they must have had some idea, because they were right on it,” he said.
Putnam’s
mention of the Old Trail gave a new view of the collegians’ climb.
Previously
mountaineers had suggested they tackled a particularly tough piece of climbing
through inexperience.
Mr. Whipple
and Mr. Crouch died of exposure, a New Hampshire medical referee said. They had
become stranded on a ledge halfway up the 1,000-foot cliff--a ledge little
wider than their bodies.
Mr. Whipple
was the son of a contractor. Mr. Crouch’s father is a well-driller. They lived
within a mile of each other on Col. Ledyard Highway.
On Friday,
the men left in Mr. Whipple’s car for New Hampshire to pursue their new hobby
of mountain climbing--they’d climbed only one mountain previously. They began
scaling Profile Mountain--named for the ageless rock formation known as The Old
Man of the Mountain--Sunday afternoon.
That night
they became marooned. They waved a shirt to attract attention. Then they tied
themselves together to keep from falling. Throughout the ordeal, they were
forced to stand as wind and rain whipped at them in temperatures down to the
thirties.
The medical
referee said their vigil was complicated by the lack of food, the apparent
hopelessness of their situation and fright.
In contrast
to the cold, rainy weather of Monday, it was warm yesterday as the bodies were
lowered.
The rescue
crew took seven hours to climb the mountain and bring the bodies down. They ran
a second rope line to one side of a
rope which had been fastened to the face of the cliff on Monday.
Each body,
supported by a line from above, was guided slowly down the mountain by a member
of the rescue party. Stops were made from time to time on outcrops from the
face of the mountain.
The descent
was made in three stages, two of 220 feet, and one of 240 feet. One rescuer
with the first body at the base of the cliff while another guided down the
second body.
Gov. Wesley
Powell of New Hampshire watched the difficult operation and shook hands with
each of the rescue crew.
Working with
Putnam, 34-year old TV station owner, were Carl Vermiyea, 21, of Newton, Mass.;
David Belanger, 21, of Whatley, Mass.; Sgt. Donald Jennings, 30, of Northfield,
Vt.; Master Sgt. Leslie Hurley, 48, also of Northfield, and Roger Damon of St.
Johnsbury, Vt.
Vermiyea,
Belanger, Jennings and Hurley are members of the Norwich University Mountain
Rescue Team. Jennings teaches at the university and Hurley is a veteran
mountain climber.
Belanger and
Vermiyea said the area they ascended offered the worst climbing conditions in
New Hampshire. The rock was wet and much of it rotten, coming off by handfuls.
Putnam said
all the drudgery had been performed by rescue crews Monday after the bodies
were located.
Gives
Account of Effort
Vermiyea
gave this account of his experience:
“I stood on
a fence looking off into space, my back against the rock wall and my foot on a
boulder. Right in front of me was a drop of 475 feet.
“I had a
half turn of rope around my body. On the other end of the rope was the body of
one of the boys. As I released the rope in a movement known as the belaying
method, the body went down. Each body was accompanied by one man, who went
right down next to it to prevent it from hitting rocks or snagging.
“My reaction
when I first saw the man I supported was I felt sorry for him. He was my own
age...
“The bodies
were 20 to 40 feet apart. Putnam climbed to the body nearest and took him down.
Putnam was one belayer and I was the other... Sergeant Jennings and Belanger
accompanied the bodies down... Sergeant Hurley and Damon were down the mountain
observing and making sure everything was in order--keeping in touch with the
belayer and the men descending.
“When we
reached the bottom we were pleased to find forest rangers had brought up chow
for us. We were hungry, for we had climbed the mountain without breakfast...
“On the way
home we wondered if anything could be done to make climbers pass a test.”
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