Guy Hanson, a West Yellowstone 5th and 6th grade school teacher who was working that summer as a Fire Prevention Guard for the Forest Service, had periodically checked the Madison Valley campgrounds. In one survey, shortly before the quake, he’d found five tents, eight trailers, and 42 people in the Rock Creek Campground. In the adjacent, unimproved area, he’d counted another 25 people. At noon the Monday of the quake, he’d helped police the improved area and found six trailers parked there at midday. He didn’t check the unimproved area. From his familiarity with the campground, Hanson felt that 40 campers were probably trapped under the slide. Brauer chilled as Hanson told him that the occupancy could be higher if there were groups, such as Boy Scouts, camped there. He described how often he’d found scout encampments at Rock Creek, and how one scoutmaster had told him that this was a favorite camping objective for many Utah scout troops. While Brauer was trying for an answer as to how many, others were working on the question of just who was buried under the slide. Mrs. T. Mark Stowe of Sandy, Utah, was considered a probable from the first. Her husband was washed out from under the lower end of the slide, and it was logical to deduce that she’d been caught under the rock mass. [Illustration: Whose gear? This collection of clothes and creel found below the slide, may be a clue to one of the victims still buried under huge pile of rock and debris. (Lewis—Montana Standard)] Volunteers from Ennis, Butte, Virginia City and elsewhere walked over the rugged slide for days searching for any kind of clue which might help. They turned up everything from fishing creels, camp equipment, and souvenir pillows to kids’ shoes. One slide-walker found an exposed roll of film which was immediately heralded as a hot lead. But when developed, the film turned out to have been ruined by the water. Their findings were kept in a county warehouse in Ennis. Much of it was claimed by those who’d escaped. The debris, so painstakingly gathered, helped little in the search for identity. The quest evolved into the painful job of waiting, keeping lists, sifting names. From the moment the quake occurred and the fact that there were casualties became known, phone calls, telegrams, and letters began surging in from all over the U. S. wanting to know about friends and relatives who might be in the area or among the victims. [Illustration: Volunteer slide workers searched the huge 80-million-ton pile of rock for victims, and clues to identity of the buried. (Lewis—Montana Standard)] “The Disaster Service of the American Red Cross did a tremendous job through their teletype and telephone by taking over these inquiries and sending back information through the Home Service chapters,” Don Skerritt, Sheriff of Gallatin County, said.