Yael and I had finished our cruise and were standing with my uncle Jim on a high bank over a bend in the river. The water was deep, and for the life of me, I don't know what got into me, but a foolish impulse overcame my better sense and I pushed Yael over the edge of the bank down 5 or 6 feet into the river. She was totally unprepared and started thrashing and floundering in the water. I remember looking down and thinking, "Is she okay down there?" I was wondering what I should do when suddenly I felt this big strong hand on my back and the next thing found myself in the water. Yael, panicking by now, grabbed me around the head pushing me under in a attempt to surface and gasp for air. At this point I finally realized that she, and now I, were in trouble and pushed her to the bank and then made it there myself. To this day, as far as Yael's concerned, Jim is her savior (no need to say what that makes me.)
I think back now, about growing up with Jim and Ethel and my grandparents and that whole generation in our family, and how they were the most wonderful people in the world to me. They weren't burdened with disciplining us kids, but rather they were a picture of the kind of people we should strive to be. Of course, now I realize that they were only human and had their quirks and quarrels like all of us, but what I recall is how they loved us 110%, were never critical of us, but always confident that we'd do the right thing.
And when we didn't, like Jim on that river bank, they'd give us a nudge.
Jim. A big man, in every way.
