I’m linking up again today with Kerri Sackville’s #My First… Today we’re writing about our First Moment of Terror…
That water in the photo isn’t a lake or river, it’s the main street of the town I grew up in. It was taken by a passing photographer and featured on the front cover of the local paper, during a snap flood when a water main burst.
The boys (my brother and friends) enjoyed the adventure but, as you can see by the expression of terror on my face, I didn’t. I don’t recall the details but my brother’s friends inflated this raft and suddenly we were floating down the street. I was worried about falling out, drowning.
I didn’t fall out or drown, but over the next few years I had a few close encounters with water that could have involved tragic consequences.
Water scared me and it’s a natural fear. Water is scary – you can drown in it. And living in this town meant, paradoxically since it wasn’t a coastal town, there was a lot of it: the lake, the pool, the river.
At seven I was caught in a strong current at the river and carried downstream. My father had to run along the bank, dive in and pull me out as I clung to a tree branch – a snag. And at eight I was at the local pool for school swimming when, without any warning I ran out of energy and started sinking. The two teachers on duty leaped in fully clothed and rescued me. One moment I was happily treading water with my friend Julie in the deep end, the next I was drowning. I don’t remember the sensation itself, just the embarrassment of being pulled out, the crowd of kids watching – the spectacle – the serious phone call to tell my parents I almost drowned.
Then there was a rip in the surf that swept me out to sea at 19… Luckily my boyfriend was a strong swimmer.
Water is treacherous. Have you or your loved ones ever had a close shave with water?