48 GUIDEPOSTS (^) | August 2019
the water was knee-deep, so they could
look for sand dollars.
I looked up from the hunt and noticed
a bunch of people gathered on the beach.
They were all pointing toward the water.
“Let’s get out,” I said. “Must be a shark.”
“I’ll see what’s going on,” Derek said.
He jogged over to the crowd as the kids
and I made our way to shore.
Derek waved me over. “There are
people drowning!”
Not a shark. A riptide!
There were maybe 30 people or so
in the water. I couldn’t tell which ones
were in trouble.
A police officer at the water’s edge
was telling everyone it was too danger-
ous to go after those swimmers. Emer-
gency lifeguards had been called.
I asked two girls to show me who
was drowning. “Over there,” one said,
pointing past the sandbars. If you’re
caught in a riptide, you’re supposed to
swim parallel to the shore. These folks
weren’t moving. They were trapped.
A man waded out to mid-waist. “It’s
too rough,” he called back. “The tide’s
trying to suck me in. I can’t reach them.”
We couldn’t just let these people
drown! I knew what suddenly losing
someone you love could do to a per-
son. I’d lost my first husband five years
earlier. Matt had been in great shape,
never sick, until a bad case of what we
were told was bronchitis. It turned out
to be sepsis. Matt just stopped breath-
ing. I looked down at his lifeless body
in the hospital bed in a state of shock.
Coming home to an empty house af-
terward nearly destroyed me. I was only
- I’d expected to grow old with Matt.
What sustained me was our commu-
nity. People reached out to me every
single day. One of Matt’s coworkers
phoned me every morning to make
sure I got out of bed. His two best
friends took turns calling after work to
ask about my day. My girlfriends came
over to clean my house without being
asked. The first Christmas without
Matt, our friend Derek—now my hus-
band—came over and put up a beauti-
ful tree. I felt so loved. God put these
people in my path. Their human chain
saved me from drowning in my grief.
A human chain, I thought. That’s
what we need.
It was as if Derek read my mind.
“Don’t just stand there!” he shouted to
the crowd. “Let’s make a chain!”
People plunged into the water and
linked arms. Five people. Ten. Derek
directed them. He was used to man-
aging teams. Our nieces and the boy-
friend jumped in to help. We put them
in the shallows, with taller adults far-
ther out. Some folks didn’t even know
how to swim. But they put themselves
in the line, relying on the ones beside
them to keep them afloat. All these peo-
ple who didn’t know each other were
working together.
The chain grew to 40 people, 50, 60,
more. But still not enough to reach the
drowning swimmers. I grabbed two
boogie boards off the beach and swam
to the last man in line. He was in water
up to his neck.
“Can you bring those folks to me?”
he asked. “Are you a good swimmer?”
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