There's no place like home

Indiana conservation officers are among the most talented and highly trained Hoosier law enforcement officials. Their work goes beyond protecting visitors at DNR-managed facilities and enforcing state fish, wildlife and environmental laws.

A conservation officer's duties also include facing down armed poachers in the darkness of the night, busting a meth lab operation in the middle of nowhere and rescuing people trapped by rising floodwater.

Conservation officers are accustomed to facing unusual situations, but I don't think any amount of training or experience could have prepared conservation officer Eric Stamps for Sept. 20, 2002. It's a story worth telling here.

Storms were racing in from the southwest, and public safety officials were on patrol as storm chasers. If the officials spot a funnel cloud in the area, they warn the public to take cover.

Eric was traveling along a gravel road near Monroe City in southern Knox County, planning to take position on high ground to observe the changing weather pattern. There was a tornado warning for Decker, about 10 miles southwest of his position.

A line of trees on the east side of the road blocked his view of the White River. The sky was a light gray and it was raining pretty hard. Suddenly, the rain began to swirl and some tops of the trees were blown out onto the road.

Eric quickly put his Ford Crown Vic in reverse.

A gust hit the driver's door. The car was blown sideways as limbs and debris pounded the vehicle.

The driver's side wheels lifted off the ground, and the car went airborne and inverted. Window glass exploded from the pressure. Witnesses said the car sailed at treetop height.

Seat-belted in place and squeezing the life out of the steering wheel, Eric hit the ground 400 yards away. The impact was heavy, and the car tumbled another 50 feet through a cornfield.

Eric felt some serious neck and shoulder pain when he came to. The rain was heavy and the car was a crumpled mess. The engine lay on the ground beside the left front fender. Some car parts were found miles away, and the back seat still is missing.

Eric climbed feet first out of car. He went back to the road and found Johnson Township fire department volunteers searching the area.

Eric escaped his wild ride with bumps, bruises and 10 staples in his head to seal a pretty deep gash. He suffered no broken bones.

"I just count my blessings," Eric told a television reporter. "It just wasn't my day to go."

Eric did confess to the reporter that he would prefer to do his next storm chasing from the safety of his basement.

Like a ruby-slippered Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, there's no place like home.

Stephen Sellers, editor