The Shallow Factor

Another "write as much as you can as fast as you can" thing. This one's on the dangers of diving with a given opening sentence.

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"Often times we don't really think about checking the depth of the water, or if there even is water, before enthusiastically diving in." James leaned down a bit to look at all of the kids in this camp - some were beginning to swim, others were advanced divers. All loved the water. However, not all had the same respect for it as he did, after one fateful day.

"It was a late night - a weekend. Maybe about 2 AM. My friends and I had just left a party. We each had a couple of beers, not drunk, but pretty buzzed. My girlfriend and I, along with a few others, were taking a walk down the beach. The water looked warm on that cool, summer night. We were all hot. There was a rocky precipace overhaning the water, maybe about 10 feet high.

My girlfriend suggested, "Hey, why don't we all take a dive?" It was late, we were all hot. Why not? Since I grew up on the side of the lake, I volunteered to go first. I didn't have a second thought about it - I ran up to the precipace and dove in head first. That was the last dive I'd ever make." James wheeled over to the other end of the stage, to take a good look at some of the younger ones.

"Do you know what happened? The water wasn't as deep as I thought as was. There was about 2 feet of water there. Not 10, as we all thought by how far out the rocky overhang was. I couldn't move. I couldn't budge an inch. And I was face down. Can you imagine - almost drowning in 2 feet of water? Luckily, my friends all recognized that I wasn't moving, even though they were all a bit out of it. My best friend, Steve, had a cell phone, and they called 911. Diane finally pulled me out of the water. I saw the look in her eyes as I was being dragged to safety - full of fear, horror, disbelief, and ultimately, shock. I eventually passed out due to the pain.

When I came to, I was in a hospital room. I tried to move my legs, but... I couldn't. It was like they weren't there. My parents were by my side, thank the Lord. So was the doctor.

'Um... James... we have some very bad news for you. That dive - you broke your neck. We've been able to repair some of the damage, and eventually... you may regain use of your arms. Over time. Maybe years. But you will never walk again.'

Never walk again... never walk again. I felt like I had taken a kick to the stomack by a karate expert. To never walk again, to never run... to be confined to sitting down for the rest of your life, is one of the hardest things you will ever hear. I tried to reply, but I couldn't do that either. My speech was gone.

It took my 6 months of rehab just to learn how to talk again. And I still can't write very well. But I was one of the lucky ones. I've known people who have died, been paralyzed, even been vegetablized by a bad dive. They didn't know how deep the water was, even though they were perfectly sober. Let that be a warning to you."

Jason wheeled back to the center of the stage. "I implore all of you.... every single one." There was a tear in his eye. "Please... always check the water before you make a dive. And never, ever dive alone. If there's no one around to know you're in danger, no one will find you before it's too late."

He backed up. The kids didn't clap, didn't boo, didn't start to talk. They just sat there and stared. A blank stare of shock... across the entire crowd. No one in that crowd at the camp left that speech untouched.