Panic - to the point of near drowning

This is a hard story to write. It’s the story of the day Matt almost drowned. To be truthful, I could have lost more than one child that day, and I could have drowned too.

How old was Matt? I don’t recall. He was old enough to be fully grown, but young enough to where all the kids were in high school and that suggests he was about 13-14 years old. Matt loves the water but hates getting his face wet - unless of course he is wearing a face-mask or goggles. Whenever we were on vacation, we made sure to bring along his goggles and usually a snorkel too. With a face mask, Matt could swim and play in the deep end of a pool without a second thought. He never jumped in – always preferring to ease into the water slowly, taking the rungs of pool ladder one at a time. The other kids would run and leap or dive right in – but not Matt. Once in the water he would drop an item – usually a coin – and then dive under the water and retrieve it from the bottom. He could do this for hours, over and over. The other kids would play this game with him and he loved the competition. We could get him to play other games in the pool as well, but he had to have on the mask if water was going to be splashed in his direction or an under water attack was foreseen.

We also liked to take the kids fishing. Matt was not interested in the fishing part but enjoyed the trips to the river. He spent most of his time tossing rocks and calculating trajectories of the stones so that they would make just the right sound when they hit the water. He wasn’t fond of camping – staying overnight in a dark place where the bugs roamed free and the ground was cold and hard was not his thing. He always slept in our tent with a flashlight burning all night. I was always very proud of him for allowing us to take him to the woods without too much of a fight.

One weekend we decided to go camping and we brought our canoe – a massively long canoe that could fit the 6 of us. We chose our spot on the banks of the New River between Buck Dam and Byllesby Dam. We had to hike through the woods with our canoe, our tents, back-packs and fishing gear to get to just the right sandy area. It was a beautiful sunny weekend with a forecast for continued sun and temperatures in the 90s. Taking children fishing is different than actually going fishing. I spent all of my fishing time untangling lines, putting on new line and hooks and squishing worms onto hooks. I can’t recall if I ever had the chance to actually cast my own line even once. The kids grew tired of fishing, which is understandable since they kept casting into the tree branches and after several hours of “fishing” we decided to take out the canoe. The temperature was climbing close to 92 degrees and the water looked more and more inviting.

There are many islands in the New River, small bits of land that we felt the need to explore. Each person in the canoe had a life jacket. The kids hated wearing them, heck, I hated wearing a life jacket too, but they are a necessity (and the law). The New River has strong under-currents in several areas. Anyone falling into the water near one of these currents could be swept under in a matter of seconds. Every summer there are reports of someone falling into the water, their bodies found days later much further down stream. We explained this to the troops and even though they knew why the jackets were required they protested. The protests were immediately countered with the rule that if they wanted to ride in the canoe then they had to wear a life jacket. Each child reluctantly put on a vest.

We paddled over to a set of the islands that were close together. A small rock bed connected the two islands and a trickle of river water flowed over the stones. We beached the canoe and everyone scrambled out – ripping off their vests and kicking off their shoes. Everyone was drawn to explore the rock bed with its small stream of cool water. We soaked our feet and it felt so good that we sat down in the water. We slid from one rock to the next, enjoying the coolness of the water on such a hot day. The older boys waded further away followed by Sarah and Matt. They headed for the point of the rock bed that connected to the river. “Don’t go too far!” I yelled. They kept going. “You’re too far ahead!” Tom yelled right after. The kids kept going, hardly slowing down. It was a race to see who could wade to the river first. As they moved closer the water got deeper. Christopher was up to his armpits when he finally stopped. Jacob had taken a route closer to the shore line and was about knee deep. Sarah was taking the opposite shore line and was also about knee deep. Matt was headed straight up the middle. Tom and I, both barefoot, traversed the rocks as quickly as we could, but the stones were sharp and our progress was slow.

“Help!” Matt screamed. I quickly looked up to see Matt frantically splashing the water. His head kept going beneath the surface. Matt had hit a deep hole and the water was over his head. Matt could swim, but not without goggles. The water on his face caused him to panic. Both Christopher and Sarah were close to him. “Get him!” I screamed. My heart was racing. I tried to run, but the rocks were so sharp and I couldn’t get there as fast as I needed too. I focused on Matt and the rocks beneath my feet. Step, step, step, look up at Matt, step, step, step. I was moving as fast as I could, but I was moving too slow. Tom was closer to the bank and was moving much quicker, but even he was not fast enough. Christopher, Jacob and Sarah tried to get near Matt, and Christopher arrived first. Matt grabbed him and pulled him under. Matt was trying to use Christopher as a ladder to climb out and he was strong. I held my breath – where was Christopher? Christopher managed to get away, and burst through the water coughing and choking. “Sarah! Stay back – don’t let him pull you under!” “Try to get behind him!” Conflicting commands were being shouted from both Tom and I.

My progress quickened when I hit deeper water and could swim. Tom was almost directly across from Matt by then. I came up behind Matt and my arms immediately went around his body and wedged under his arms. He was heavy – so heavy. My legs were losing strength from treading water and we both went under. “I will not let go, I will not let go, If Matt goes under, then I will too, I will not let go” the thought repeated itself over and over in my mind. I kicked as hard as I could and we reached the surface. Matt took a deep breath in between his frantic sobs. “I’ve got you, Matt, and I won’t let go” I said directly into his right ear. “Calm down, I have you.” I said as sternly as I could. His arms were still smacking the water but his body relaxed a small bit - enough for me to tighten my grip. I was still treading and my legs began to feel like stone. Tom was shoulder-deep nearer the water’s edge and was leaning out toward us. “Push him to me” he called. I was sinking, my energy sapped. We were only a few seconds away from going under for the last time. I knew my energy would be completely drained within minutes – I gripped Matt tighter. I had a white-knuckle grip on my son and the idea of letting go enough to push him went against my instincts to hold him as tight as possible. I had to convince myself to do what Tom requested. I remember forcing myself to think, “If I am to push him to safety, then I will have to let go”.

It was a leap of faith that allowed me to push Matt away. It was my faith in Tom. I knew Tom would catch him. I knew he dive in if something went wrong, if I couldn’t push him hard enough to make it to where Tom stood, but it was hard to let go. To push Matt such a distance I would need force and the only way to achieve the force was to go under the water and kick to the surface and at the same time pushing my son up and away from my body. My legs were heavy, I couldn’t feel them anymore – just dead weights hanging from my body, but they were still kicking. My arms were tired, the lock I had made around make seemed to flex every muscle in them and they were burning. I had one shot at this – maybe. I could hear the kids yelling and crying and I could hear Tom repeating his request, “Push Matt to me!” We went under.

I stopped kicking for a fraction of a second and we sank like a rock. As the top of my head began to feel the water I started kicking with all I had left. As we reached the surface I forced my son away from me, the sound of his frantic cries in my head. Tom reached out as far he could and in a flash, grabbed Matt, clutching him by the arm and immediately dragged him in to the rocks with the help of Jacob. My energy was spent and I was going under again. What could have been my last view above the water’s surface was of Matt reaching safety. I relaxed. The water flowed over my head. Without a struggling Matt attached my body I could float and I soon rose to the surface. I stretched out my arms with my last bit of energy and gave one last kick – directly toward Tom. His strong grip reassured me that it was over and he pulled to me shore.

You have heard of traumatic stress syndrome, where a person goes through a traumatic event and replays it over and over in their mind, unable to forget, barely able to move forward in life. I have had this event in the recesses of my mind since that day. I have replayed it a thousand times. I am moving forward with my life, but there are times when this event brings me to tears – like it has today. I think of what could have happened and am chilled to the bone. As time passes I can look back and see that everything fell into place perfectly for the saving of Matt’s life. If Christopher had not attempted to save Matt and give him those few seconds of rest, could Matt have stayed above the surface for me to get to him? If Sarah had not been able to get close enough to reassure Matt, would his panic have caused him to go under? If Jacob had not gone to Tom’s aid, would Tom have been able to pull him to the rocks? When the emergency hit, Tom took one route and I another. Without speaking we worked like a well oiled machine, combining forces perfectly to retrieve Matt from the water’s depth. Tom and I even came together at just the right point near enough to the shore to allow for such a hand-off. And I had just enough strength to get Matt within Tom’s reach. Seconds later and I would have been to the point of exhaustion and Matt and I would have gone under for the last time. We were so fortunate.

It should never have happened. I should never have allowed the kids to remove the vests. I knew Matt couldn’t swim without his goggles, but it never occurred to me to bring them. I feel stupid and ashamed that my lapse of thought could have ended my son’s life. Had it been Christopher, Jacob or Sarah, I still would have held on tightly, resigning to go under with them rather than let go. Of course, none of them would have panicked the way Matt did simply because water touched his face.

Matt needs me to keep him safe – more than any of our other children, because Matt is autistic. It’s a really big job, a very important job. Unfortunately this job has no text book or class work or practice sessions – it’s all on-the-job training. One mistake can have nasty consequences. On that particular day, Matt’s ability to stay calm was completely absent because water had touched his eyes. I knew about this fear and neglected to bring goggles, neglected to make him keep on his vest. I have learned from it and am haunted by it. I know I will live with this shame the rest of my life. Matt, on the other hand, has no memory of this event. He still enjoys the water immensely. Matt swims in the deep end, wades through creeks, plays in the ocean and he does it all without any fear

– as long as he has his goggles.

.