Charles Kirkland III is the owner of Learn to Survive, which teaches people remote medicine and how to survive in remote areas.

Charles Kirkland III adventuring the wilderness and helping others globally

Everyone has a story. Each edition, Tony Taglavore takes to lunch a local person — someone well-known, influential or successful — and asks, “What’s Your Story?”

It was supposed to be a beautiful, soul-soothing, nine-day journey along the waterways of northern Minnesota and southern Canada.

An opportunity to appreciate the outdoors in all its glory.

It was also his first journey as a Wilderness Canoe Guide, taking three father-son groups for a little male bonding.

The first five days were great.

Then came the morning of day six, when everyone was getting ready to shove off the Canadian shore after camping the night before.

“One of the fathers started feeling funny. Then, he’s coughing up this Pepto-Bismol-colored stuff, which was blood.”

The first-time guide performed CPR. Remember, they were in the wilderness.

“We had radios that worked on relay systems. One of the boys climbed way up high in a tree and held up the radio as high as he could, while we tried to hit a relay so we could get somebody to come to us.”

But the seven adventurists were a long way from nowhere.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but the Pepto-Bismol-colored sputum was a classic sign that there’s a clot lodged between the heart and the lungs.”

A pulmonary embolism. The man died in front of his son.

“The whole situation was a nightmare.”

Shreveport’s Charles Kirkland III shared that story with me, along with his own, during lunch at a place he chose, Monjuni’s Italian Café & Grocery on Youree Drive. Charles enjoyed the lunch lasagna special (with extra Parmesan cheese) and Perrier sparkling water. I had the lunch special: spaghetti and one meatball and water with lemon.

For Charles, that “nightmare” was the catalyst that prepared him for what he is today, the 15-year owner of the company Learn to Survive. At 65 years old, Charles and 12 fellow instructors travel the world (Charles is a Delta Airlines Diamond Medallion member, flying 100,000 miles a year), teaching everyone, from park rangers to African tribesmen to missionaries, remote medicine and how to survive in remote areas.

“It’s almost like it was pre-ordained, Tony, I swear,” Charles said about that first outing. “I always say, if you want to make God laugh, just make plans.”

Charles planned to be a wheeler and dealer in the political world, scratching an itch he got watching his father, who was the longtime director of the city of Shreveport-Caddo Parish Metropolitan Planning Commission. And Charles was working that plan.

The Louisiana Tech graduate (business, with a minor in law), served on campaign staff, raised money for candidates, worked with the Republican Senatorial Committee in Washington, D.C., and spent time as a lobbyist in Baton Rouge. By his own admission, Charles was a “political whore.”

Then came July 5, 1997. Charles’ brother, Ken — they were a little more than a year apart in age — died from a rare form of brain cancer.

Now, here’s the deal. As teenagers, Charles and Ken spent summers taking those wilderness canoe trips. They promised each other that one day, they would be guides. Together. Brother and brother.

That day never came. “I said, ‘I am forgetting all this political crap, and I am moving to northern Minnesota.’” Huh? “I decided within a day (of his brother’s death). ... It ended up changing my whole life. ... I think it was God telling me we’ve got to turn your life around. The only thing drastic enough was losing a family member. I don’t think anything else could have turned me around.”

During his three years as a guide, Charles went to emergency medical technician (EMT) and paramedic school. Always one for adventure, he earned his way to Eagle status (the highest rank in the Boy Scouts) with Troop 14. Charles eventually found

himself in, of all places, Antarctica. As a deep field medic, Charles treated scientists who suffered everything from frostbite to concussions sustained from falling on ice.

Six months a year, Charles was based at McMurdo Station but often went 500 to 1,500 miles away to places that made the boondocks look like Los Angeles.

“A warm day was zero degrees Fahrenheit. A cold day, I saw negative 70 ° . ... It’s the most remote place on Earth you can actually go. It’s the coldest. It’s the highest. ... I could get on a snowmobile and ride for one mile, and literally, you are by yourself. The only thing you can hear is God talking to you. There was nothing. Just pure remoteness.”

But Charles kept coming back. He survived 10 seasons, living like a polar bear.

“There are days you go, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’ There were white-out conditions where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. It was so cold. But most of the time, I loved it.”

When Charles began not to love it, he left and worked seven years at a national park in Montana. Charles then came back home — he could live anywhere — and started his company. But Charles, never married and childless, isn’t “home” much. He’s gone on average three weeks a month. Charles has taught first aid and survival classes on all seven continents.

“Last November, I was in Brazil helping facilitate antivenom for a snake down there — a really bad snake that kills a lot of people.”

“Down in the Amazon, we were eight days living with a primitive tribe. ... They ate piranhas every day. They ate caimans, which are part of the crocodile family. I lost 15 pounds. There weren’t a lot of fatty foods. I will never complain about the humidity in Louisiana again. In the Amazon rainforest, you’ve never seen such humidity. At their driest, my clothes were damp. The rest of the time, they were soaked and wet.”

By the way, Charles isn’t a big fan of all the television survival shows, saying most of them aren’t realistic. His favorite, however, is “Alone.” In fact, Charles applied to be a contestant. He would be a shoo-in, right? Wrong. He was rejected, having been told he wasn’t dramatic enough.

“It’s TV. They want someone who says, ‘Oh, my God, it’s a bear!’ I would be going, ‘It’s a bear. Big deal. I know what to do. Whatever.’” Assuming Charles would not have patience for someone who couldn’t survive six hours without eating a hearty meal or going to an urgent care center at the first sign of a runny nose, I asked my final question. As always, what is it about his life that could be an inspiration to others?

“Listen to your heart. My heart said, ‘You need to go to Minnesota and become a wilderness canoe guide. It was so illogical and so irrational. However, it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m so fortunate, Tony. I can’t tell you how fortunate I am.”

But through a cracked voice, Charles can — and did — tell me he thinks about his brother every day.

“I just wish he could see me now.” I bet he can.