Hunter Rushing and his father Matt were on their way to Jamestown, Wyoming, on an afternoon errand last Aug. 23 when something unusual caught their attention at an intersection in Green River.
A chain-link fence had been knocked flat. Beyond it in the side yard of a mobile home, a three-wheeled motorcycle lay overturned.
Then they saw the driver lying on his back in the grass.
They rushed to assist and found the man, later identified as 72-year-old Henry Voelz, conscious but disoriented, and bleeding badly.
“Holy crap,” said Hunter, recalling his initial reaction to the sight.
The man didn’t appear to know what had happened nor how badly he was hurt, but the wound was significant.
The inside seam of Voelz’s jeans had been torn open from the groin to his knee, revealing a deep laceration wide enough that part of his leg sagged under its own weight.
“It was one of the deepest cuts I’ve ever seen,” Matt said, a statement that carries weight coming from a former first responder.
For Hunter, a 17-year-old Eagle Scout, it was the first life-threatening crash he’d encountered, but that didn’t cross his mind at the time.
“Instinct kind of kicked in,” he said, describing how he leapt into action.
When a motorcyclist crashed through a fence into a Green River yard last summer, Hunter and Matt Rushing didn’t hesitate. Their Scouting training kicked in to render aid to the man, earning Hunter, an Eagle Scout, a special award of merit. (Courtesy Hunter and Matt Rushing) 
When a motorcyclist crashed through a fence into a Green River yard last summer, Hunter and Matt Rushing didn’t hesitate. Their Scouting training kicked in to render aid to the man, earning Hunter, an Eagle Scout, a special award of merit. (Courtesy Hunter and Matt Rushing) 
When a motorcyclist crashed through a fence into a Green River yard last summer, Hunter and Matt Rushing didn’t hesitate. Their Scouting training kicked in to render aid to the man, earning Hunter, an Eagle Scout, a special award of merit. (Courtesy Hunter and Matt Rushing)
‘Just Stay With Us’
Hunter pulled off his leather belt and handed it to his father, who started to make a tourniquet, then Hunter rushed to find a “twist-stick,” an improvised tightening device.
Together, they worked quickly, looping the belt high on the leg and twisting it tight enough to slow the bleeding.
“We did the best we could with what we had,” Matt said.
Matt went to coordinate with the property owner, and Hunter stayed at the man’s side, trying to keep him alert and awake as Voelz asked the same questions over again — where was he and what had happened, the man asked, unable to remember the crash.
“Just stay with us,” Hunter recalled telling him. “Help’s coming.”
The fire department was only a few blocks away, but even so, the first engine initially drove right past the scene.
Hunter took off running down the road to flag them down — one hand waving, the other holding up his belt-less pants. Soon, responders flooded in, and the Rushings pulled the fence back so they could get Voelz out on a gurney.
The incident shows ordinary people can step into extraordinary moments. Though the Rushings were not as ordinary as they appeared — they were Scouts.
When a motorcyclist crashed through a fence into a Green River yard last summer, Hunter and Matt Rushing didn’t hesitate. Their Scouting training kicked in to render aid to the man, earning Hunter, an Eagle Scout, a special award of merit. (Courtesy Hunter and Matt Rushing) 
When a motorcyclist crashed through a fence into a Green River yard last summer, Hunter and Matt Rushing didn’t hesitate. Their Scouting training kicked in to render aid to the man, earning Hunter, an Eagle Scout, a special award of merit. Above, the family with Wyoming Gov. Mark Gordon. (Courtesy Hunter and Matt Rushing)
Scouting In Decline
Matt and Hunter said they were able to jump into action because of their training with the Boy Scouts of America, recently rebranded as Scouting America.
In Scouting, preparedness goes beyond tying knots or starting fires. It includes first-aid training and the expectation that when something goes wrong, you step in.
“I think it was just the way I was raised,” Hunter said. “One of the Scout laws is to be helpful, and it stuck with me.”
However, participation in Scouting has declined sharply in recent decades — from millions of members at its peak in the 1970s to fewer than 1 million today — meaning fewer young people receive that kind of training.
“Part of our oath is to help other people at all times,” said Matt, who leads Green River’s last remaining Scout troop. “That’s why we do this — so they’re ready for things you don’t expect.”
Their commitment to the oath made the difference that day.
“There were a bunch of grown adults just standing on the sideline while Hunter was in the thick of it,” Matt said. “One guy had his phone out. That’s something I’ve never understood; when you’ve got the ability to help, and you don’t.”
Heimlich Maneuver
The crash wasn’t the first time Hunter stepped in to help in an emergency.
In junior high, a friend started choking on Goldfish crackers after laughing at a joke. Hunter tried back blows first. When that didn’t work, he switched to the Heimlich maneuver, which cleared his friend’s airway.
A few years later, he used the Heimlich, learned as a Scout, to help another choking classmate.
“In the moment it’s scary,” he said. “But I stayed calm.”
His father saw the same calm under pressure during the tourniquet incident.
“There was probably a storm going on inside,” Matt said. “But from the outside, he was calm and collected.”
Hero Holding Up His Pants
For helping save Voelz, Hunter was awarded the Boy Scouts of America’s National Certificate of Merit, which recognizes unusual acts of service.
At the awards ceremony in Utah, he briefly became something of a local celebrity.
“One leader referred to me as the ‘Hero Holding Up His Pants,’ because of how I was holding up my pants while I ran after the fire chief,” Hunter said.
For Matt, the moment lingers for another reason.
As a Scout leader, he’s spent years teaching young people to be prepared, and that afternoon, without warning, he watched his own son prove he was teaching them right.
“I couldn’t be prouder,” he said.
Hunter was proud too, but not because of an award.
“It was really cool, getting the award. But I wouldn't have cared if I didn't get it. I was just proud of myself for being able to help," Hunter said.
Voelz could not be reached for comment on this story.
Zakary Sonntag can be reached at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com.
