Sunday, February 26, 2006

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. †

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