The Value of Family
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When Christine had shown up from Florida, I knew I wanted to take her everywhere and show her all the things that made SoCal special to me. The Claremont Colleges having been my old stomping grounds in high school were on the list for sure. Where else could you get that feeling of being back east in California? Then there were the natural elements that made the area so wonderful. The mountains that surrounded the valley I had grown up in, and just a couple of hours to the north or the east would bring you into the desert lands where the silence could swallow you up. However, on that day it was the beach that was my priority.
Problem! Mom was making me take my younger brother and sister with us. I resented her for making me take them. After all, Christine had come to see me and the sights, not help babysit my two youngest siblings! Angrily, I loaded them both into the back of the station wagon with their things, and pulled out of the driveway. About half the way there Christine looked over at me and noticing I was still pouting, she said, “It’s OK, they aren’t misbehaving and I really don’t mind.”
On hearing her say that my attitude brightened and I suddenly felt we would have a great day.
Now I had always found it odd that it could be sunny and hot in our inland valley and yet a drive to the beach could find you ten degrees cooler and facing a cloudy and overcast day. Such was the case this day and I was disappointed. Well, there was still the cave to be seen, and later in the after noon found us scrambling over the rocks to investigate!
As we rounded the last rocky outcropping I noticed that the little bay was a bit too small. I realized that the tide was coming in and we needed to take a peek at the cave and then get out of there before it was too late.
I told Christine what was going on, and then yelled to the kids to stay close. We walked into the cave, gave the requisite shouts to hear our echos, and then came out to go back.
We had only been there what seemed a few minutes and already the waves were crashing against the lower rocks. Scrambling up the lower formations we were being sprayed with the fanning water as each wave broke. We were screaming with each wave, and then laughing because the water was so cold. We had become drenched!
Suddenly, a very big wave rolled in and instead of breaking like all the others it just continued to roll right over our pathway. There was now about two feet of fast, churning water hitting our shins. I froze.
Quickly scanning the outcropping for my brother and sister, I saw Alison and Christine bolt for the cliff face and grab on like crabs in their effort to not be washed away. Clinging there their faces looked so pale against the wet and darkened rock. The wave broke against them, and then began to retreat. The force of the retreating water was causing me to me lose my footing. When I looked back I was panicked to see Aaron being swept over the edge of the rocks and out to sea.
It is amazing what detail your mind can store in a situation where you face so much trauma. I was once told by a doctor that the adrenaline in such situations will cause your brain to go into overdrive, and instead of getting just the general information from the situation, your brain records every single millisecond of detail and it plays in your mind like slow motion…
Aaron was floating over the rocks, his face white, looking terrified. There was no screaming of “HELP!” like in the movies, it was just terror and scrabbling to find something to hold on to. Breaking from my frozen state I tried to run to him and catch him if I could, but the four feet between us might just as well have been forty. The ocean had garnered a prize that day and was not going to let it go! I lunged for him but missed my grasp. In my mind I was hearing myself explain to my parents how I had allowed my baby brother to be killed that day on the cliffs, and I knew they would never forgive me. Never.
I see my brother dig his fingers into the holes on the rocks edge, the water is dragging his legs and body straight out behind him and then seems to let him go. Straining, he pulls his body back to the rocks. I see the muscles and tendons in high relief along his arms, his legs and feet are pistoning against the razor edges of the rock bluff, and then, he is free. Laying there, his chest heaving, he begins to cry.
By this time Alison, and Christina are at my side. We help Aaron up and quickly get off the rocks. Safely on the sand we carefully check Aaron to assess the damage. He has a few scratches on his arms and legs, his shorts are shredded and so is the end of his left big toe! (I will spare you the details, but just know it was horrific looking!) We took him to the first aid station where they patched him up, and then we left. We’d had enough of the beach for one day.
That was forty years ago, and every time I remember that day, my selfishness shames me. Remembering the terror on those rocks, when I thought we’d never come back from that one last wave, is when I realized how much my brother and sister meant to me, and that it could have all ended so differently.
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This is not my picture, but it is where the above events took place all those years ago.
Professor Tom Morris, who teaches Environmental Biology at Fullerton College, posts this photograph with the admonishment to “Go at low tide.”
Hm… YA THINK?
NOTE: Please kindly click the photograph to link back to its source and view the many other amazing photos Professor Morris has posted to his website. Thank you!
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From The Daily Post who gave us this line to use in our writing today:
“I thought we’d never come back from that one.”
Life on the Farmlet 
WOW! Not sure how long it’s going to take for my stomach to relax – right now it’s just one massive knot… Great scenery! Wonderful story!! Fantastic writing!!!
Happy, happy New Year’s Eve: )
Thank you, Deb! Sorry to put your stomach in knots, but it was just such a scary day! I’m glad you liked it in spite of the fright!
No, no! That’s a tribute to your story-telling prowess – well done!
Oh…! 🙂
Good grief – what an awful experience for you! I thought it was really interesting what the doctor said about the way your mind ‘sees’ a traumatic situation (I’ve often wondered about that!)
Incredible story!
It was so long ago now, that I can remember it without feeling the adrenaline and fright of the situation, yet the sting of my immaturity and my selfishness remains. 😐
Thank you, Dianne… This is another of those times when we cheated death, and don’t understand how we managed it. I’m just grateful that we did!
I was thirteen when we went to the beach during that summer.
Really? That old!!! Then Aaron must have been 15, and that would explain why he was more worried about the fact that everyone could see his underwear through his torn up shorts on the way to the first aid center! Aaaahahahahaaa!
Love you, Sis 😉
Dear God. What a day for you. I can well imagine how you would remember that day so long ago.
Happy New Year, Lynda
Thank you, and Happy New Year to you as well!
Hi,
What a very scary time that must of been, the adrenaline would of been running very high. You have told the story so well, beautifully written, and I could easily picture the scene as I was reading.
Ah, but we survived that scary moment and now we tell the tale to our friends and can laugh about it. 😉
HAPPY NEW YEAR, Mags!
Hell!
Yes. I it was!
Happy New Year, Julie! 🙂
What a horrid thing to happen. The sea can be deeply scary and should never be underestimated. Different lessons for all of you no doubt.
Annie, I was in my early 20s then, and yes, that day changed me a bit.
Happy New Year, Annie!
And a Very Happy New Year to you Lynda!
Those photos are indeed interesting –especially the views from “above” everything. 🙂
Aren’t they, Eva? I’m from there and never saw it from that perspective! 🙂
We don’t have tides like that along the Gulf Coast – just riptides that often claim inexperienced swimmers. When I first moved to Cali and began traveling the coast, I couldn’t believe how fast the water could come up. Later, when I got to Alaska for the first time and saw places where the docks were built to accomodate 20-30′ tides, it was even more unbelievable.
I know exactly what you’re talking about when you mention the “slow motion” business. I was rear-ended on a Houston freeway years ago. I’ll not go into the whole story, but I was going 60-65 and the guy who hit me had to be doing over a hundred. He got me on the driver’s side, just like a cue ball. He sped off and was never found. The guy behind me said I went back and forth across the freeway six times before I came to rest at the median.
But here’s the thing – I never spun out, and through the whole thing I can remember my dad saying, “steer into the skid”. I can see myself doing it, and keeping the car straight through it all, just like I was driving on ice.
I wasn’t hurt, either, except I got some teeth knocked out on the steering wheel. I can remember getting helped out of the car and being so mad because I’d gotten blood on the new sandals I was wearing for the first time!
Wonderful, evocative tale. I really enjoyed reading it, and remembering some of my own experiences.
I have been in the “slo-mo” zone on more than one occasion, and indeed, one was a car accident in the rain, the result of which totaled my car. To this day I can see the coffee, from my cup on the dashboard, floating in globs through space, just as if I were in zero gravity on a space ship. Yup, car wrecks will definitely put you in the slow-mo zone!
Somehow, the thought of docks that can accommodate 20 to 30 foot tides makes me weak in the knees!
Thank you, Linda, and Happy New Year!
Sometimes, it takes a scary event or having someone move away for us to realize how much they mean to us. “when I thought we’d never come back from that one last wave, is when I realized how much my brother and sister meant to me, and that it could have all ended so differently.” In a way, I too have moments where I was selfish when I was younger and now I wished I wasn’t. People we love and love us back are priceless. We need to show them how much we appreciate them because there will be a time when we have to go somewhere far and may take years before we get to relive the joyful past. Happy New Year and wishing you and your family the best.
I guess then, that it is a process of growing up, maturing, and learning the importance of each family member. The realization of how much space each one takes in our heart, and yes, sometimes it can take many years for that maturity to arise in us. Thank you, Mr. B! Again, many blessings to you and yours this year!
Well written Lynda. Glad it has a happy ending. Taking us through the slow motion terror really brought the story to the present. Well done!
Thank you, Janet! It was a harrowing event, that thankfully ended well. BTW, I left you a message on your last post, and for some reason it didn’t go through.
Lynda, I got the comment on the geranium post, moderating the comments sometimes I don’t get to them right away. Did you comment on the ‘Fragrance on the First’ post?
The one with the lovely white flowers…