I arrived late in the day and began walking up the beach toward Fripp. There were very few people on the beach, but in the distance I could see small groups gathered, a red blinking light beyond the shore and some kind of boat or what looked to me like two parallel jet skis sailing rapidly in the ocean. Closer up, I could see the people were rescue and law enforcement personel, the red light belonged to an ambulance parked on the shore road, a fire truck, a covered stretcher.
I learned that a marine had drowned. Today he had graduated from his training program at Parris Island.
The water appeared to be particularly treacherous as the hurricane, Leslie, passing east of Bermuda, was kicking up high surf and there are rip tides here as well.
When Michael was only four years old, he nearly drowned in a pool while visiting a friend and while wearing a life preserver and being watched by two women poolside. He had taken off the life preserver and was floating under water when they noticed him and pulled him out, bumping his head on the side of the pool. They called EMS and did rescue breathing. I got the call at work and my supervisor drove me to the hospital. It seemed as if she were driving 10 miles per hour when she was actually breaking the speed limit. He was in Xray when I got there, very lethargic and an ashen color. His pediatrician was there already. He said, "He is going to be alright." I was enraged. But he was alright. After three days in the hospital, he came home. It was raining lightly that afternoon and I put him to bed. Shortly afterwards I looked out the window and saw him lying face up in the front yard in the rain. He was fine.
And Peter nearly drowned in the Bay of Bengal. A stranger rescued him. Long ago, now.
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