Crises!

Lois Greiman

I’ve always wondered what I would do in a crisis.

Okay, I’ve had the usual trauma…you know…like when your husband’s horse bites off your son’s ear…that sort of thing. But I’ve been curious what I would be like in one of those split second decisions when I could do something to prevent the trouble-to-come. But recently I found out.

Here’s how it went: I was on a little trip with my 24 year old son, Travis. (Who also happens to be the boy with the torn-off ear--you might see a pattern by the end of this blog.) He had decided to accompany me to the Romantic Times convention because he had made friends there on previous years. In fact he and Heather Graham’s daughter had formed something of a bond and God knows I’m too opportunistic to discourage that.

The convention was in Pittsburgh, so we decided, naturally, to drive. I mean it’s only 100,000 miles or something. And, just as naturally, we decided to camp our way across the United States. It was, after all, April, which is ‘generally’ above freeze-to-death temperatures even here in the northland. So off we went, intending to climb to the highest peak in Wisconsin, Timm’s Hill (I kid you not) as well as to the top of Mt. Arvon, the highest peak in Michigan.. Arvon was supposed to be a half a mile hike, but, with the recent foot of snow the UP had received, the roads were blocked. So what was supposed to be (quite literally) a walk in the park, actually turned into a 14 mile trek through three foot drifts and open streams. We didn’t get back to the car until four in the morning. I think I also remember seeing flesh-eating monsters eying us from the surrounding woods, but that might have just been my hallucinations. Needless to say, we survived the experience, however. In fact, we had learned our lesson. By the time we were back on the road, we had vowed to refrain from doing any more ‘stupid stuff.’

Still, Travis was intent on seeing a particular waterfall and once we arrived in Ohio, I was glad we did. It was a gorgeous spot, a pleasant hike in above-ridiculous temperatures, a spattering of water tumbling gently into an rocky basin. Happy, warm, and content, we trekked to the top, but somehow we lost the beaten trail and found ourselves standing on a nearly level shelf of granite above the falls. There was the tinniest trickle of water running near our feet over the slick rocks. It burbled merrily along, then fell gently down over a 30 foot drop, but suddenly a hear a little patter of sound. I turned to see that Travis has lost his footing. He was down on his stomach six feet from the edge, but in an instant, a heartbeat of time I tell you, he was sliding. And then, as if he were being sucked off the edge, he was gone. For one shattered second I saw him looking up at me from the precipice and then he disappeared from sight.

And what did I do? Did I leap after him and catch him by the arm as any good mother should do? Did I throw myself after him in a vain but heroic attempt to stop his fall? No. I said, and I quote, “Uhhh! Tra! Uhhh!” Then, when that didn’t magically bring him back from the abyss, I carefully picked my way to the edge and looked down.

He was ten feet below me. Somehow he had landed on a tree trunk propped between two rock ledges and was crouching there, one foot on the jagged rock and one on the wood. The water was beating down on his hat and his GPS was hanging from a branch. He looked disoriented and well…wet, but wholly alive. In fact, later, he asked why I hadn’t taken a picture of him.

Taken a picture of him!! I thought the boy was dead and it seemed wrong to snap shots of his broken body. Besides, I had done all I could do to save him. You know… “Uhhh! Tra! Uhhh!”

Crap! I see now that I will never ever, not in a million years, be a star in my own book, not unless all the heroics that are required involve shrieking a few nonsensical syllables.

So, how about you? Crises anyone? What were they? How did you react? And could you, do you think, star in your own action scenes?

www.loisgreiman.com