Bearden: In times of pleasure or times of need, there’s no place like the lake home
LAKE WEDOWEE — It was already very warm by 10 a.m. and there was no question that Old Blue had to get put into the water today. Usually, Scott and I take care of the launching of the ski boat, but after a month of sitting in the yard, it seemed like a good idea for everybody to go for the initial boat ride. The plan was for me to drive my wife Michelle, son Brannon, niece Jennifer and her friend Lindsey to look at the airplane on the water while Scott returned the trailer to the driveway. This would give plenty of time for Scott to get the trailer unhooked and make his way down to the dock for us to pick him up.
The battery cable was a little loose from the hurried switching of the battery earlier in the morning, and the starter gave the proverbial clacking that usually concerns the ladies on the boat, but with a 10-second adjustment of the cable, Old Blue fired right up and purred like a kitten. After a few hellos as we idled out of the cove, we proceeded to hit full throttle and make our way out of Wedowee Creek. Very seldom had we ever boarded any of the boats or Seadoos with 2-year-old Brannon when we didn’t go straight to his favorite attraction on the water – the airplane.
Boats and airplanes are wonderful stimulation for young boys of all ages, and my son is no different – in this case, the boat and airplane are one in the same and he loves it. How could a father ever deny his son seeing such a machine every time we had a chance? After all, what better excuse for a “boat ride” prior to recreation on the water.
Even before the airplane comes into full view, Brannon is already becoming excited as he has been here several times before and, who knows, maybe this time will be different, maybe it will get put in the water. This time would be different, but not because of the airplane, it would remain in the safety of the garage on the side of the water.
As we approached the cove where the airplane resided, I eased up on the throttle and worked to position the boat at the best possible angle to allow my big boy to view his favorite spot on the lake. Only a half hour had passed, but the heat was sweltering. Scott and I had tested the water the day before, using the lake as an instant air conditioner while piddling and sweating on one of many tasks to be completed on the dock. There was no question that in order to get cool, you had to go deep. The water at the surface may as well have been bath water, and was not as much refreshing as it was just wet.
With this in mind, I told the crew I would be right back, bumped the transmission in neutral, and took two large bounds from the driver’s seat. The second step catapulted me from the newly re-covered platform that covered the year of sweat and rebuilding on a four cylinder Mercruiser that seldom was shut off in these “cool off” situations. With no life jacket and a “toothpick” configuration, I was sure to get down to some good cool water. It was all that I had expected – cool water in the depths, and so I started my ascent. Taking my time, I pushed my hands from above my head down to my sides, easily making my way to the surface.
Suddenly, I felt something upon my chest. It was at this moment that this otherwise ordinary day would become a story of the unbelievable strength of family, friends, and a small community’s courage.
The initial contact was definitely something I’d never felt before. The impact took my already dwindling breath and reflexes told me to fight to get it off of my chest. The fight to get this monster off of my chest resulted in yet another wound to the inside of the right elbow. Obviously, the boat had not been fully engaged into neutral and had made its way above me as I traveled deep into the lake. The propeller was the only part of the boat to strike me, and it was definitely turning. The task now was to get to the surface, get my breath, and try to stay alive.
In what seemed to be an eternity, I miraculously made my way to the surface and began to “grunt” (for lack of a better term), “it got me, it got me.” By this time I was at the front of the boat and the family was looking. Lindsey had heard a “thump” but no one had any idea that the thump would render this sort of outcome.
I caught the attention of Michelle, and at this time my wife started a chain of events that would eventually lead to me being able to type this article. Michelle understood the grunt and began to cry immediately at the site of the enormous amount of blood that was seemingly filling the lake. Grabbing a life jacket for herself and throwing one to me, she jumped in the water instantaneously. My next grunt to kill the engine was heard by Jennifer. I swam and splashed to the back of the boat with help from my wife and made my way to the ladder. The first glimpse of the laceration on the inside right elbow came upon pulling myself up onto the ladder – this was the deepest gash I had ever seen and it was on MY arm. Upon reaching the platform over the motor, I turned on my back and lay still now realizing that two more very deep gashes adorned my chest area.
I explained that Jenny would have to drive the boat, and she was in the cockpit and ready. Lindsey assumed possession of the 2-year-old precious cargo, and off we went. The ride back was busy. A tee shirt for the right arm and multiple towels for the two gaping lacerations that were now very obvious across the chest. My amazing wife asked rather frantically if I was going to be alright, and for the first time in either of our lives I said, “I don’t think so.”
I am a very positive optimist who always looks on the bright side of everything. Right then at that moment was the only time in my life that I couldn’t think of a bright side, but we had a mission.
Michelle kept the pressure, Jenny kept the throttle, Lindsay kept the baby, and the baby’s existence alone made for the overpowering will to make it through this one way or the other.
As we entered the large bend in Wedowee Creek, I asked Michelle if Greg was still down at his dock as he had been on our way out. Having a medical background, Greg was sure to be eager to help. Jenny slowed the boat on command from Michelle and Michelle shouted the quick details to Greg’s wife Lee, who hurried to the top of the hill to get Greg, Scott and the rest of the land team were ready for the moving of the patient from water to land. Jenny turned the boat into the cove and headed for the dock. Knowing that Seadoos, Bass Buggy, and pontoon were not arranged at the dock to receive Old Blue yet, I advised Jenny to run into anything she needed to. She put that boat in there better than I could have done it myself.
By the time I made it onto the dock, Greg had already made it over the hill and was insisting that I lie down on the platform at the gazebo. Ignoring my frantic requests that we get on a four-wheeler to get up the hill and go to the hospital, Greg calmed me and insisted that 911 be called for an ambulance immediately. The short road from the dock to the house could not be traversed by ambulance, and with this in mind Scott managed to back the four-wheel-drive truck down the road for my transfer to the front yards of our homes on the point.
The preparation for the ambulance ride began with Greg leading all of the eager yard nurses and everyone doing exactly as they needed to do. Ringeye topped the hill and joined Greg in convincing me that the ambulance was on the way and to ride in the back of the truck was ludicrous. Meanwhile, I wonder if I’m going to be able to stay awake. Amazingly, it seemed that the faintness I was feeling had stabilized, and for the first time I was sure that I was going to be fine – unsure of the condition, but definitely alive.
As I lay there with all the family and neighbors around, I begin to realize how amazing it is that our leisurely lake group can pull together in this manner to preserve life.
Although it seemed a long time, the ambulance, actually two ambulances, made it to the scene in what had to be record time. Some further preparations by the paramedics, and we were off in a hurry.
This was my first time in an ambulance and it seemed that I was with family yet again. The ambulance personnel polite and reassuring, the ambulance trip was quick and the bleeding in the arm seemed to be contained for the moment. No one knew at this time if the bleeding in the arm was from an artery or not, but it was too risky to remove the dressing at this point.
Next stop, Wedowee Hospital. Through quick, precise communication it had seemingly been determined that I would be flown via helicopter to another hospital. However, there was work to be done at this hospital to prepare for the flight. Again, a stranger was being treated as a relative, and I could see and feel the concern on all of the faces that were working to make sure that I was comfortable. Although this was trauma at its highest peak, the staff remained calm and conveyed an attitude that helped me to realize that I was truly being taken care of to the best of their ability.
The next leg of the journey was a trip to the high school football field for the ride to UAB. This was one heck of a way to get a helicopter ride, but thanks to the staff at the hospital, I was ready for the trip. My main concern from the beginning was the feeling in my right hand, and I was starting to get some feeling back while the bleeding remained contained – this was very good news. The helicopter quickly landed at UAB and I was immediately sent to surgery where all lacerations and veins were repaired and it was found that the artery in the right arm had been spared.
I have always felt that I was blessed with my wonderful family and successful life, but a true blessing happened on this day. No college degree, completion of a large project, or the most successful of deals can compare to the amazing feeling of blessing and warmth that comes from surviving a potentially fatal trauma in this way. On Saturday, August 20, 2005 a small conglomerate of neighbors and family on a point in Wedowee Creek, an ambulance crew, a warm hospital staff, life flight officials and surgeons worked together to make sure that this lucky man would be able to take his son to see his favorite airplane at his home on the lake again and again.
I hope that this story will urge all boaters to wear life jackets before entering the water. Even in the event of a mistake made in the cockpit, a life jacket will keep the vital parts of the body out of harm’s way from a propeller, as well as maintain the ability to move out of the way of danger. As for me, I will wear the kill switch tether and make sure that the boat is shut off before anyone enters the water when riding in my boat in every circumstance.
Marine Police have also informed me that there are boater safety courses offered at Lake Wedowee every spring. These could be very helpful in deterring accidents over the summer, and I urge every family to participate. Unfortunately, safety is not always in the front of the mind, and any time we can learn more about safety, the safer our weekends will be at the lake!
