A parent’s perspective on a recent search
We often talk about the importance of bringing closure to families after a recovery incident. But “closure” means different things to different people.
In July of 2025, the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office reached out to Routt County Search and Rescue looking for assistance on a search for a young man suffering a mental health crisis. At RCSAR’s request, CSAR’s state coordinators helped with additional resources and provided strategy and planning assistance. Over the next six days, multiple dog teams, JCSAR and RCSAR team members, Colorado Parks and Wildlife Officers, and officers from the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office searched for the missing man. They never found him.
But that’s not why CSAR chose to write about this incident. What made it unique was the incredible resilience and gratitude of the missing man’s family, who resigned themselves to Derek Pettigrew’s body remaining in the wilderness, and the fact that Derek did not fit the typical profile of a despondent individual planning to take his own life.
Derek lived in Steamboat Springs, where RCSAR is based. He had just graduated from CSU with a 4.0 grade point average in his final semester. He had formed his own company and paid his way through school. He had accepted one of several job offers, and just closed on his first house.
Derek led a lifestyle we can all relate to. He summited technical rock climbing routes in Yosemite and Colorado, tore up mountain bike trails in the summer and the slopes on skis in the winter, and was practicing a Superman jump on his snowmobile in the backcountry.
Derek’s dad, Dave Pettigrew, says, “Above all, Derek was a very principled person. He did not drink, smoke or do drugs. He set a very high standard for himself and owned up to every decision he made – including his suicide. He was the one that everyone trusted with their deepest issues. He thought independently and was very secure in everything but his relationship with his girlfriend.”
On a Colorado Gives fundraising account that Dave, Carolina and John Pettigrew set up for RCSAR, the family posted this heartbreaking message.
Your son is going to kill himself, and there is nothing you can do.
It began with Derek’s roommate in Ft. Collins, asking for his license plate number. Derek’s girlfriend had apparently broken up with him, and he had left the house with his gun. Derek had never been afraid of anything, except heartbreak. His housemate had died by suicide only months before, and the possibility felt all too close.
We did what any parents would do. We started calling law enforcement, begging for help, searching for answers, clinging to the hope that someone, somewhere, would tell us Derek was safe. Instead, his girlfriend showed us the message Derek had sent her: a link to a farewell video he wanted shared with his family when “the time was right.”
There are no words for what happened in that moment. At 60 years old, I had never experienced anything like it. My body gave way to uncontrollable sobs. I could hardly breathe and began hyperventilating. I threw up as Carolina wailed beside me. We were powerless, trapped in the unbearable knowledge that our son might be ending his life—and we could do nothing to stop it.
Then, a flicker of hope. Derek’s phone began pinging near Walden. We thought he was heading back toward us. His Uncle drove through the darkness to intercept him. We even made space in our bed for him, ready to pull him close and protect him if he walked through the door. We wanted so badly to believe that he would return. But he never came home.
The next day, his car was found, still running. Inside, his phone was plugged in, the farewell video already pulled up on the screen. That discovery broke us in ways we cannot put into words.
A search drone was deployed, but soon after, we were told no further action could be taken. Suddenly, we were left staring into the vast emptiness of rugged mountain country. Our son was somewhere out there, and no one knew where.
Then, everything changed. Deputy Sheriff Dave Schulz and Jackson County Search and Rescue (JCSAR) told us to request assistance from Routt County Search and Rescue (RCSAR). As emotionally compromised as we were, RCSAR took the helm under unified command with JCSAR. They told us: “This is one of our own.” “We will not sleep until we find him.” “We are treating this as a rescue, not a recovery.” In that moment, they gave us something we thought we had lost: hope.
Sheriff Doug Scherar personally coordinated with outside agencies, refusing to accept defeat. From there, six counties joined forces. Twelve agencies committed their people. Ten dog teams deployed. Nearly 40 volunteers pushed through the mountains, walking miles through brutal terrain. They poured everything they had into finding Derek.
Imagine what it feels like as a parent, knowing that complete strangers are looking through unforgiving terrain, scaling mountains, and fighting exhaustion, just to bring your child home. Imagine hearing their words, seeing their determination, and realizing that they would not give up on your son.
How do you describe that? Words like thankful and grateful only scratch the surface. We felt undeserving, humbled by their sacrifice, and overwhelmed by their humanity. These volunteers carried our son in their hearts as if he were their own.
And we were not alone. Our community carried us too. Friends we had known for decades and friends more recently acquired reached out without hesitation. Our church family from SCC surrounded us with prayers and encouragement. The ladies Bobcat Hockey Team sent flowers. Counselors from REPS voluntarily provided assistance. Hundreds of messages poured in, lifting us when we could not stand on our own. That love carried us through the darkest days of our lives.
But here is the truth: not every family has this safety net. Steamboat Springs is a destination that calls to adventurers from around the world. People come here to ski, hike, hunt, fish, snowmobile, ATV, and backpack across our wilderness. But when something goes wrong, when someone gets lost, injured, or goes missing, there is only one lifeline: RCSAR.
RCSAR is a 100 percent volunteer organization. They are ordinary folks who, without hesitation, will put their own lives at risk to save a stranger. They do it for no pay, no recognition, and often no thanks. They do it simply because it is right.
Derek loved the outdoors, and he believed deeply in helping others. Derek lived by the words: love your neighbor as yourself. We know that if the roles had been reversed, Derek would have been the first to volunteer…Please, join us. Share this story. Support their work. Because one day, another family will find themselves with a loved one lost in the wilderness and RSCAR may be their only lifeline.
In a thank you letter to CSAR, the family also said, “Though it was a parent’s worst nightmare, I would like you to know how much your efforts meant to our family. We went from thinking that nothing could be done into a massive 6 county, 12 agency, 10 dog team multi-day effort for which we feel undeserving but yet incredibly grateful for what you did.”
We think it’s a very special family that can focus so intently on their gratitude while grieving a terrible loss. They remind us why we do what we do as volunteer responders, even when our efforts don’t lead to a recovery.
