Panic In The River - The Most Frightening Experience Of My Life

By Rev. Walter R. Wullschleger - 1981

Looking back from Mile 76 on my life's highway, I often review a number of dangerous situations I have passed through. It is as if these narrow escapes from death were appearing on a television screen in my mind, sometimes during nights when sleep evades me. They are not dreams, but actual re-runs of exciting incidents of normal daily living.

In all of them there seems to be the intervention of a providential, strong, wise, and capable, but invisible Presence acting just at the right moment to turn me away from the clutch of death to a new hold on life, bringing me to a fresh realization of the sweetness of being alive. To briefly mention a few would include some split-second highway incidents that evaded the tragedy of accident when passing traffic and getting back on the right side of the center-line and missing a collision with the on coming car or truck by the narrowest of margins and a fall through a spot of thin ice in the middle of the river while on my skates and clothed in a heavy overcoat that almost swept me under the ice by the swift current.

Another hair-tingling incident found me atop a high load of baled hay in the middle of a dark night under an overpass where I had climbed to check clearance. The brisk wind distorted my communication with the driver, falsely telling him to proceed. With about a three-inch clearance between the load level and the concrete beams, I could feel the gears grate as the driver went into low gear to start up. Knowing I was about to be beheaded, I quickly felt for the last bale on the back end and dodged behind it just as we went through. Coming out of that predicament alive gave me the pleasant sensation of being rescued from a cruel death by crushing and mangling.

But the most hair-raising of all my many brushes with accident was the time when I very foolishly decided to cross a flooded river on my farm tractor with a heavy tandem disc hanging on the 3-point hitch at the rear.

It was in May of 1966 when I was engaged in doing custom plowing and seed-bed preparation for many residents of Breathitt County, Kentucky. A good friend of mine on the North Fork of the Kentucky River had asked me to come and prepare his tobacco base for planting. The river was at a below normal stage and I thought I could safely cross at the ford where a narrow underwater road had been made with several loads of crushed rock. Under this presumed confidence I crossed the river with only a little trouble getting up the muddy bank on the other side. The preparation of the field took more than a day and my equipment had to be left overnight. A heavy rain storm came on and caused the river to rise above flood stage.

This was a serious development to me since it tied up my tractor at a. busy time when I was earning about one hundred dollars a day doing custom work for a long list of customers. The problem now was to get the equipment back to the mainland at the earliest opportunity. Allowing several days for the river to get back to its normal water level, I again faced the ordeal of crossing the river with my tractor. I was also at the disadvantage of the river being muddy with the banks still slimy and slick. The underwater road was quite invisible due to the added depth and the muddy current, but I was determined to get my outfit back. With a daring assurance and reckless confidence I made the attempt. Heading for the other side I was soon in deep water. The fast current quickly swept the front end of the tractor downstream off the invisible road. Before I knew it I was in water nearly up to my armpits and proceeding down river at some speed. Fortunately my tractor was a diesel with the exhaust pipe opening above my head. I had loosened the fan belt allowing it to slip before beginning the crossing. The engine kept running even under water, but now I had to shift the transmission into reverse.

I shudder now to think how fortunate I was to shift gears into reverse out in the deep river. With serious calm I was truly amazed that the tractor was backing up against the current. In a few moments I felt the back wheels come to the roadway, lifting me up a few inches. The heavy disc on the rear end gave the needed traction for me to make the opposite bank and to climb it to safety, backwards.

The whole episode was over in a matter of moments but the frightfulness of it has lingered with me all these years since and I often awake in the night with the dread of it fresh in my mind. What if I had panicked, unable to extricate myself from under the steering wheel and the operating area? But a strong conclusion grips me, that never again, under any circumstances will I ever attempt to cross a swollen river with a tractor!

Let my appearances in the Lost and Found column be non-existent!