George Hopkins had just accomplished something spectacular. Unfortunately, his success left him nearly 900 feet above the Wyoming prairie with no safe way of reaching the ground. And what began as one man’s publicity stunt would soon become a national rescue effort.
On the morning of Oct. 1, 1941, Hopkins jumped from an airplane and guided his parachute toward the summit of Devils Tower. The professional daredevil had already earned recognition for his parachuting exploits, but he wanted something bigger. He hoped to establish a world record for the most parachute jumps in a single day, and a spectacular stunt would attract the publicity he needed.
The summit measured slightly more than an acre. Hopkins landed exactly where he intended, proving that a skilled parachutist could hit an extraordinarily small target.
There was just one problem.
He had devoted considerably more attention to getting onto the tower than getting off it.
From the National Park Service:
During the first part of the 1900s, several advancements in parachute technology had been made; the devices were still rudimentary by today's standards, however. George Hopkins already held a number of records for spectacular parachute jumps, but he looked to push the envelope even further. He wanted to set a world record for number of parachute jumps in a single day. To create publicity for this idea, he determined a single, spectacular jump would do the trick.
Without the consent or knowledge of National Park Service officials, Hopkins parachuted from an airplane to the top of Devils Tower. He wanted to prove that a parachutist could land precisely on a small target - the Tower summit being just over one acre in size. His plan was to descend using a 1,000-foot rope which would be dropped from the plane after him. Hopkins hit his mark, but his rope landed out of reach on the side of the Tower, leaving him stuck on top.
His plan called for pilot Joe Quinn to drop a 1,000-foot rope from the airplane. Hopkins would retrieve it, secure it, and descend the towering rock formation. Simple enough, at least until the rope missed its target and disappeared over the edge.
Hopkins watched his escape plan tumble away. Suddenly, the stuntman who had conquered Devils Tower couldn’t leave it.
Park superintendent Newell Joyner spotted the unexpected visitor and began communicating with him from below. Hopkins hadn’t requested permission for his stunt, and now the National Park Service had to rescue a man whose poor planning had created a potentially deadly problem.
Another pilot managed to deliver a second rope, but Hopkins found it too tangled to use safely. Rain, strong winds, and cold temperatures complicated everything. The man who had expected a brief adventure spent his first night exposed atop the rock.
Soon, the story captured national attention. Airplanes dropped food, water, blankets, and warm clothing. People offered suggestions from across America. Goodyear volunteered a blimp, while the Navy proposed using a helicopter.
Meanwhile, Hopkins watched the rescue effort unfold hundreds of feet below him. Every passing day brought another night on the mountain, with no guarantee that the next morning would bring a solution.
From Wyoming History:
The group of officials, including Brockelsby, worked on more rescue possibilities, from a team of climbers to guide Hopkins down the tower to using the Goodyear Blimp. The blimp, however, could be used only if it would survive the rescue. This was uncertain, so Goodyear rescinded the offer. Even the Navy offered a helicopter to save Hopkins.
A rescue climb seemed the best way to go. Dartmouth College student and experienced climber Jack Durrance led the rescue mission, along with aid from Field and Gorrell. In the late 1930s, Durrance had pioneered climbing routes up Devils Tower and several in the Tetons. In 1939 he was part of a party that tried to climb K2 in the Himalayas, the world’s second highest mountain. During the crisis with Hopkins, Durrance sent a wire to volunteer himself to help aid the mission if needed.
The Park Service finally accepted help from Jack Durrance, an experienced mountain climber who had successfully scaled Devils Tower in 1938. Durrance organized seven other climbers and traveled west to lead the rescue.
Bad weather disrupted his journey, forcing him to complete part of the trip by train. He reached Devils Tower on October 5, and his team carefully planned its ascent.
The following morning, October 6, eight climbers began working their way up the rock. They reached Hopkins and found him remarkably healthy and in good spirits despite his six-day ordeal. Together, they made the dangerous ascent without major difficulty.
About 7,000 spectators had visited the monument during the drama. America had watched one man’s terrible predicament become a remarkable demonstration of teamwork and courage.
Just two months later, Japanese aircraft attacked Pearl Harbor, and America entered World War II. The country soon faced dangers far greater than one stranded parachutist.
Hopkins eventually put his experience to work, training American airborne soldiers. The National Park Service believes he may have achieved his record-breaking ambition while teaching young men to jump safely.
The men who climbed Devils Tower in October 1941 had no obligation to admire Hopkins’s judgment. They certainly had reason to question it. Yet they climbed anyway, risking their own safety to bring a stranger home.
Eighty-five years later, the most memorable part of George Hopkins’s adventure isn’t the extraordinary jump that put him on top of Devils Tower. It’s the eight men who climbed all the way up because they refused to leave him there.
