Bobbing Baby

I’ve written before about the dangers of mighty Lake Erie. It’s unpredictable and ever-changing due to rapidly evolving weather conditions. And in the Spring, it takes a long time for the water to warm to a comfortable and safe temperature for wading and swimming.

Generally, if the weather cooperates, I open the lighthouse on Memorial Day weekend – late May. Some years at that time, the weather is warm and summer-like, while other years, it can be downright blustery – rainy, damp and cold. This year, it was the latter.

Fortunately, after a few dreary days, the sun began to peak through the clouds, the wind died down, and the temperatures climbed into the 60s. Like anytime that the world brightens after a streak of bad weather, people poured outside to the state park to enjoy nature and the rhythmic waves of the beach.

Since it was finally nice, one evening I was sitting outside waiting for the sunset and noticed a young couple and four small children -- all boys and all 4 years and under – who had made their way down the path to the sliver of beach just below the lighthouse. Once the couple parked their double stroller in the sand, removed the two boys who were in it and subsequently released the hands of the others, mayhem ensued. The four small boys all began running in different directions – some toward the water, others grabbing and throwing rocks, or digging in the sand.

As active little boys do, they went every direction – and fast.  The two adults were clearly outnumbered, dashing back and forth from child to child. The scene looked like the pinball games I used to play in college, but with people -- not pinballs -- bouncing around erratically.

A couple of the boys were interested in putting their feet in the water so, of course, the others followed. The tempting waves had the boys jumping, running and splashing, despite the water’s frigid 56⁰ temperature. The parents continued to try to wrangle the mob, but 4 boys under 4 is just too much for two people.

As the boys continued to play, the man retreated to a beach chair – apparently ready to head home – and sat to put on his socks and shoes. That left the woman watching all four boys. One of the littlest (probably around 2 years old), was wading in the water when suddenly a wave rose up and swallowed him.

The helpless boy was immediately face down, bobbing in the water, and being pulled further from shore. At times he was fully submerged by the waves. The woman quickly noticed and began to wade in after him but then retreated (perhaps fearing the other boys would follow her) and screamed to her partner to rescue the boy. The man jumped from the chair, splashed in and grabbed the boy from the water. He carried him to the sand and stood him up.

The small child was soaking wet, sputtering, spitting, and clearly dazed at what had happened. The man and woman continued to check on him as he stood there. For the love of God, I don’t know why that child didn’t drown. He was submerged in 56⁰ water, unable to move or swim and undoubtedly cold and in shock.

It was then the man noticed me standing and watching the entire scene. Even from the beach, I’m sure he could see the disgust on my face. I asked him if everything was okay, and he said, “Yes.” I followed that up by asking if he wanted me to call 9-1-1, as I still worried the little boy could be seriously impacted by the ordeal. He said, “No, we’re taking care of him.”  At the same time, the woman began screaming at one of the other boys accusing him of having that boy follow him into the water and the entire nightmare being his fault.

As the woman screamed, the man continued to converse with me – mostly trying to justify what happened. First, he said, “I was just putting on my shoes.” “You’re very lucky,” I retorted, as I truly thought that little boy should have drowned. The sight of that innocent child face down in the cold water bobbing with the waves will haunt me forever.

The man continued, “They’ve been cooped up at home and we wanted to get them outside to the beach.”  “Do you know how cold that water still is?” I asked. “No,” he said, clearly clueless as to the danger. “It’s still May,” I said.

He continued, “Well, he’s autistic…”, which I believe he was trying to use to explain that the boy either didn’t listen well or was harder to watch than the others. “I think it’s time for you to go,” I said. “Yes, we’re packing up,” he said.

Under my disdainful stare, the woman put two boys in the stroller and began pushing it through the thick sand. The man grabbed a hand each of the other two boys and started to walk toward the path.

I truly hope that little boy is okay. His parents certainly put him at risk by allowing him and his brothers to play in such cold and unpredictable water. He was fortunate to have guardian angels watching over him who saved him to live another day.