On Thin
Ice
Wherefore
let him that thinketh he standeth
take heed
lest he fall.
-- 1 Corinthians
10:12
A man fell through the ice and died last week near
our town. An avid and experienced outdoorsman, he and two buddies had been ice
fishing for three hours that afternoon. Just as they were getting ready to leave,
he plunged through.
People ran to help. They threw out a 75-foot
line; they made a human chain with their bodies; one laid on an eight-foot
stepladder to try to get closer, but then crashed through, too. One of those
trying to save the fellow's life was 94 years old.
I know, I know. It was a freak accident. Ice
fishermen know exactly what they're doing and how to stay safe.
Even so, I'd say walking on water, frozen or
not, should be reserved only for the Fisherman above.
But what do I know? I'm still living down The
Dipsy Doodle Crying Wolf False Alarm incident of a few years ago.
See, my friend Cindy and I were enjoying some
late-winter sunshine on a walk around Lake Zorinsky in west Omaha. It was really
warm out. We came around a bend, and there, 'way off on the ice in the center
of the lake, we could see three people ice-fishing.
Daredevils! Idiots! On such a warm day!
We tsk-tsked as we walked, squinting across the
frozen lake to their little encampment.
Then, for a few minutes, our view was obscured
by a wooded area. When the open lake came back into sight, we looked out again
. . .
. . . AND I SWEAR, ONE HEAD WAS STICKING UP OUT
OF THE WATER, AND THERE WERE TWO EMPTY CHAIRS!!!
TWO FISHERMEN MUST HAVE PLUNGED THROUGH THE ICE,
AND THE THIRD ONE WAS BARELY CLINGING TO LIFE! NO DOUBT HE WAS WEAKLY CROAKING,
"HELP! HELP ME!!! I MEAN YOU, CINDY AND SUSAN!!!"
We had nothing to throw out to them, and were
terrified to go out there. We were too far away, anyway. Cindy couldn't see
quite as well as I could, and wasn't as sure as I was. But I made her get out
her cell phone and call 911.
The guy wasn't moving. Why doesn't he save
himself? What's taking so long?!? Two people drowned! And this guy losing hope .
. . despondent . . . and man, his toes had to be cold by now.
Just then, here came a screaming fire engine, responding
to our emergency call. A guy dashed to the water's edge, making frantic hand
signals out to the person whose head was sticking up out of the water. . .
. . . but at that moment, we finally saw that he
wasn't, indeed, clinging desperately to life in the icy water. He wasn't in the
water at all. He was just hunched down low on his seat with his fishing pole in
front of him. He stood up and waved back to the would-be rescuer, giving a
thumb's up signal and the A-OK sign.
Meanwhile, the two other fishermen, who we
thought had sunk down to Davey Jones' locker, came running out of the restroom
to join the would-be rescuer. They had an animated conversation complete with
gestures in our general direction, which Cindy and I could "read" to mean that
they were exasperated with those two hysterical broads across the way who had
called in a false alarm.
They shook hands. The fire engine left. The two
marched back across the ice to join their perfectly warm and dry friend and
resume fishing. We could see no evidence of any cracks or disturbance in the
ice whatsoever.
You know that Cingular ad? Doot doooooo . . . doot
doot dooooo!!!
But I was sooooo sure I saw those guys drowning!
Me, a trained observer, a veteran reporter,
schooled in getting the facts!
Whoopsie daisy: getting the facts RIGHT, that's
supposed to be.
Boy, was my face red. And it wasn't the wind.
Yeah, well, it was a reminder that you can be on
thin ice in more ways than one. And sometimes, when you're so sure you're
standing on solid ground . . . actually, you're all wet. †
