Huntington teen recalls bear attack

What Simeon Melman remembered most about a grizzly bear attack last weekend in the Alaskan wilderness were the sounds of his friends' screams.

"It was not the kind of scream you hear in any movie," he said Wednesday in an interview at home. "It sounded like they were being killed. It pierces through your ear. It's absolutely terrifying. That sound still hasn't left me. I doubt they'll ever leave my head."

A few minutes later, two teens were near death, two more were injured and the three others had to quickly summon help and use their skills to save their friends.

It all began Saturday at 8:30 p.m. as Melman and six other teenage boys descended into a shallow canyon on the Alaskan tundra and started to cross a creek that separated them from a grizzly bear and her cub.

Melman was fourth in the single line of boys, two a few seconds ahead, Josh Berg and Noah Allaire, and he with four others, Victor Martin, Sam Boas, Sam Gottsegen and Shane Garlock. Melman said he suddenly heard Berg shout.

"Bear!"

Out on their own

The boys, all either 16 or 17, were near the end of a summer course with the Wyoming-based National Outdoor Leadership School, unsupervised for the first time. For the previous three weeks, they were taught skills that would allow them to thrive on their own in the Alaskan wilderness.

"We were very excited to go off on our own," said Melman, who returned home to Huntington Wednesday. "It was something we worked very hard for."

The weather was cool Saturday, about 50 degrees. The boys slept in and started late, planning for a night hike that would cover about 6 miles. They had caught some trout in a stream and planned to make a stew out of it for dinner that night.

They'd hiked almost four hours when Berg, the tallest and biggest boy in the group, apparently startled the mother bear about 20 feet ahead. She charged at Berg first, knocking him down and biting him in the head, neck and side.

The other boys scattered. Melman ran up a hill. In the chaos, all motion seemed to slow, he said. The bear charged and tackled Allaire next, biting him in the head, then went back to her attack on Berg.

The bear attacked two more boys, biting Martin in the leg and Gottsegen in the side. The boys carried bear repellent spray, but had no time to grab it from their packs. The attack probably lasted only a few minutes, although time seemed to stand still for the boys. No one knows for sure why the bear retreated. Alaskan game officials said they do not plan to hunt or capture the bear.

Melman, Boas, and Garlock escaped injury and immediately went to the aid of the two most seriously hurt, Berg and Gottsegen, who remain in an Anchorage hospital. Martin and Allaire's injuries were minor.

Berg's wounds were the most severe. He was bleeding from his neck, head and side, Melman said. He was conscious and responsive and asked Melman how he looked. Melman lied and said he looked fine.

He and the four other boys used everything they could as bandages for Berg and Gottsegen. Melman used his socks, his shirt, even his underwear. They were also battling hypothermia in the cold Alaska night as it started to rain.

As he helped his friends, Melman also activated an emergency beacon, which uses satellite technology to send a signal for help to the state police in Fairbanks, about 250 miles away. To stay warm, they pitched one of their tents. They used the other to wrap Berg.

They huddled in the tent for warmth, not knowing for sure whether help was on its way. Melman and the others took turns watching Berg and Gottsegen, keeping a free hand on their wounds. They tried to keep their spirits up, joking about the movie that would be made out of their story, or all the girls they'd meet.

"The tent was musty," Melman said. "It reeked of flesh and blood and body odor. It was just horrific. We were still cold. We were giving up more and more clothes to keep Josh warm."

Melman, who for years volunteered as a nursing assistant at Good Samaritan Hospital in Islip, was down to just his pants. The boys even filled a water bottle with urine and pressed it against Berg for warmth.

In that tent, the boys developed a bond that may last a lifetime, he said. "When you bleed on other people and you're okay with it," he said, "You usually bond pretty well."

By 11 p.m., 21/2 hours after the attack, help had still not come. The conversation grew quiet. When they were sure Berg was asleep, they confessed they thought he or Gottsegen might die.

"We had a plan for 24 hours," Melman said. "After that, we thought we might succumb or lose hope."

Finally, a copter rescue

At almost 3 a.m., the boys finally heard the sound of a helicopter -- the "most relieving noise of my life," said Melman, who ran out of the tent barefoot and shirtless, shouting and waving. The boys were evacuated in two groups. A state trooper stayed with the two seriously injured boys and Boas, who insisted on staying behind. An Army helicopter picked them up a few hours later.

"I just don't really understand how I'm a hero," he said. "I was doing what I was taught. I don't see how that's heroic. I was just trying to save my friends."