My dream of
living on Golden Lake came true in 1987.
My husband and I bought a 100 year old Victorian cottage that was a
bargain in those days because it needed lots of work. We were young, full
of energy and so very excited. Our 3
sons and daughter ranged from ages 8 to 18 and we moved to the lake in the spring. That first summer was filled
with the excitement of swimming, boating, fishing and lakeside bonfires. Our first winter at the lake was equally as
fun. The boys and their friends
maintained a huge ice rink in front of our house for frequent and spirited
hockey games. Life was good and the kids jokingly called
living at the lake, Permavacation.
The second
winter the ice froze clear as glass and the weather co-operated by staying
dry with no snow. We skated on ice so
transparent and smooth that it felt like floating. At night when the moon was full, we could see
our shadows on the bottom of the lake as we glided along.
We had
talked a lot about safety on the ice with our children. Our shoreline was an excellent and safe spot for
skating because it was sandy and shallow.
But across the lake, it was very deep and there were some springs that
kept areas of the lake open longer than the rest. They knew that it was strictly forbidden to
go there.
Our son,
Chris was 14 that second winter. He was
always a free thinker and marched to the beat of a different drummer. He was a big, strong boy and spent much of
his time playing hockey on our shoreline with his brothers and his friends. Being a stay at home mom, I could keep my eye
on the group of boys that always gathered at our house while providing hot chocolate
and snacks. As I said, life was very good!
It was on a
cold, sunny and windy day that our happy life almost came to an end. The details of that day 24 years ago remain
burned in my mind as clear as if they had happened yesterday. My husband and I had decided to go for a
quick lunch at small town café about 3 miles away. We were gone for about an hour leaving Chris
at home.
I remember
walking into our home when we returned and feeling an instant sense of
dread. My husband must have felt it
also, because we walked straight through the house to the lakeside door and
looked out across the lake. What we saw
was a nightmare beginning to unfold.
Chris was skating across the lake with one of his friends……right towards the open water about 300 yards away.
We ran out into the front yard and screamed his name over and over as
loud as we could, but the wind was blowing at us, and he never heard our
cries. Then we saw him disappear into
the open hole. His friend fell down on
the ice and lay their crying.
There really
are no words to adequately describe my thoughts and feelings in that moment. Time was suspended and everything seemed to
be happening in slow motion. On some
level I knew that the chances of us reaching him all the way across the lake in
time were slim, and what we would do when we got there was uncertain. We did have a ladder and a rope on the shore because
my husband a former eagle scout, had insisted on it. He
grabbed the ladder while I grabbed the robe, and we started to run. My feet clad only in loafers kept slipping on
the glassy ice and made it difficult to make progress. As we ran we never took our eyes off of Chris. We saw him try over and over to
pull himself out of the water on the edge of the ice, but it kept breaking as
he fell back in again.
I didn’t
know then that he had skated near the opening in the ice and slid his hockey
stick across the surface to scare up the flock of geese resting there. It had landed in the water and not wanting to
leave it, he had come back to the house to get a long wooden pole with a hook on
it, which we used to trim tree branches.
When he approached the hole again to try and hook his hockey stick, the
ice just gave way under him.
We had only
made it about halfway across the lake when he struggled once again to get out.
Somehow he had the presence of mind to hold his hockey stick and the
long pole in both hands and lay it on the ice in front of him to distribute his
weight as he tried one more time to pull himself out of the water. By some incredible miracle, it worked!
We were
still running towards him as he came skating our way. The enormous flood of emotions that I
experienced in that moment, were a combinations of intense joy, red hot anger, relief, fear and gratitude
all at the same time. I literally did
not know what to do with myself. Chris
skated towards me dripping wet and freezing cold but alive and said as he skated past, ”Mom……………..please
don’t say a word.”
We turned
around and walked back to across the lake to the house. I was shaking so badly, my legs could barely
hold me up. By the time my husband and I
walked into the house, Chris was already in the shower attempting to warm
up. I remember the three of us sitting in
the living room afterwards and just looking at each other. As the unstoppable tears rolled down my face,
it seemed that none of us could wrap our minds around what had just
happened. Words were inadequate. I am sure that we must have said something,
but the experience itself was lesson enough.
None of us slept that long night as we lay in our beds in the dark and
listened to the eerie sounds of the ice as it cracked and boomed outside in the cold
and the tape of the day’s events played over and over in our minds.
Sometimes I
think of how different my life would be today if Chris had not made it out
alive. I think of what I would have done
if he had still been in the water when we got there. Perhaps we would have died trying to save
him. A parent’s love is that enormous. I think it
is a miracle that he was able to save himself, but I am also a strong believer in
unseen angels. Most of all, I think of my love and gratitude for him and for all of my children which is immeasurable.
Chris is 38
years old now and still marches to a different drummer. He and I fought to save Golden Lake and its
delicate environment this past year, and he is now doing great work that he
loves in the world of Vision Science at Ohio State University.
