There have only ever been two deaths on the Chattooga River while on a commercial rafting trip. July 14th, 2012, I was on the rafting trip when the first death occurred. This is my story.
Where I Had Been
I was near the end of what would be a year long divorce. My wife at the time had left me the previous summer and I had endured the worst year of my life. On top of the divorce, my brother, whom I loved dearly, had been arrested and was going through the courts to go back to prison.
I only had so much emotional energy to spend and most all of it went toward the divorce, but the brother in prison thing felt like being kicked while I was down. During this time, I struggled greatly, but I was surrounded by friends, strong christian men, who would come along side me and support (sometimes even literally when I had no strength to stand). I spent the year in weekly counseling sessions overcoming addiction, and dealing with this devastating loss.
Brokenness became a way of life, but I knew I had to lean into the pain of it all if I had any chance to come out on the other side. I did not want to go back to the way that I was, enslaved to addiction, regardless of the outcome of the divorce.
I was in the process of dying to self in a major way and it hurt all the way to my limit and then beyond. But God was there every step of the way. He showed up in small group where we studied Matt Chandler’s Mingling of the Souls, a study on Song of Solomon, the same book that led me to Christ. God used it to draw me back to himself, with his ahavah love. I was confronted week after week with how I screwed up my marriage, yet God spoke to me at the end of the study to say to me, “I’m pursuing you. No matter how bad you think you are and how bad you screwed up, I LOVE YOU, AND I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” God had my heart again.
Now I Was In A Good Place
And so I began to heal and grow in my love affair with God, where I experienced intimacy with him once more. By the time the summer of 2012 rolled around, I was in a relatively good place. The divorce was still pending, but it was more of a waiting game at that point until the court finalized everything, and I was at peace. I joined another small group where we were reading Beautiful Outlaw by John Eldredge.
I was really enjoying learning about “Experiencing the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus”. It was refreshing to take a break from relationship studies. I would meditate for hours after each chapter, soaking in God’s love. These new friendships were a tangible expression of God’s hope in my life. They were the light at the end of what had been a very dark tunnel.
Guys Rafting Trip
Later that summer I was invited to go on a white water rafting trip for a guys weekend. I’d never been white water rafting before, so it sounded like a lot of fun to me. I was looking forward to late night card games, 12 year scotch, and camaraderie. The first night there, I was not let down. We all stayed up late, but as the single digit morning hours arrived we eventually hit the sack and hoped for quality over quantity of shut eye.
Despite the late evening, I was well rested and full of energy. This was the morning of our rafting trip down the Chattooga River. I grabbed a quick shower, grabbed a coffee, and did my best not to disturb the heavier sleepers as I made my way outside to read and journal. The morning fog was heavy and it gave the cabin a peaceful, quiet stillness, perfect for morning reflection and prayer. I picked up Beautiful Outlaw and read a chapter on the beauty of Christ. I was soaking in every written word and occasionally pausing to enjoy the beauty of God expressed in nature.
As the morning rolled on and the other guys rolled out of bed, the cabin came alive with morning activities, so mostly grunting and gas. We would eventually eat breakfast together and then set out for our rafting trip.
We split off into groups and then go through some basic training on whitewater rafting. There were 7 of us in our group, so they split us. 3 of us would go on one raft with 3 others. The other 4 would go on another raft with 2 others. Before long it was time to board the bus and head to the river. As we set out for the river, I soaked in the misty fog that had settled in the valley. The air was cool and energized with ozone from an overnight rain. Each moment was a breath of life. Enamored with my beautiful Jesus,I felt an overwhelming peace.. In those moments I was fully present, every sense aware and whole being alive.
On The River
So we set out. The overnight rain had swollen the river leaving the water levels higher and the current moving faster than normal. No one goes whitewater rafting for less of an adventure, so this was a bit of good news to us. As we went down the river, I really enjoyed the physical challenge and teamwork of getting the raft to go where you wanted it to.
We cracked jokes with each other and asked a lot of questions about our guide. I’m sure he’s been asked a hundred times before, but he humored us. After a bit he even joined us in having a laugh at one of the other guides who was overly serious and militaristic. Our guide was little more on the crunchy outdoorsy side of things and was overall pretty chill.
After a couple of hours we pulled the rafts ashore and took a break for lunch. We pulled the rafts to the side and climbed about 30 – 50 feet above the river on the side of the valley
walls. Slowly the sandwiches, snacks, and water was passed around. Warm peanut butter and jelly, my favorite.
Serious guide guy was insistent on following the rules, so we had to leave our helmets on the whole time. It had gotten much hotter than when we had started. After finishing lunch, I was ready to get back in the river. It was much cooler, and the best part of the river was coming up next, Five Falls.
Five Falls
I was on the raft of 4 guys and 2 others, and we would go down first. These are the falls we would need to navigate.
Entrance – Class IV
Corkscrew – Class IV+
Crack-In-The-Rock – Class IV
Jawbone – Class IV+
Sock’em Dog – Class IV+
Here’s a video shot in very similar conditions (high water) to what we went down.
American Whitewater says
This is the Southeastern Classic! More legends exist about Five Falls of the Chattooga than almost any other set of rapids. Taken individually any of the 5 rapids of Five Falls would be significant named drops on any typical Southeastern river.
It was too dangerous to go down all 5 falls at once, especially with the high water levels from the rain. We would go down the first four, and then pull off to the side before hitting Sock’em Dog. Because of the complexity of the rapids, they would add an additional guide to the front of the raft.
Our crew jumped in the raft and pushed off.
Entrance. The current was swift and purposeful.
Corkscrew. Every muscle flexed in obedience to the shouted instructions from our guides.
Crack-In-The-Rock. The river pushed and pulled and bucked the raft like an angry mare; she didn’t want to be ridden. Water sprayed and splashed, blurring my vision, but I dare not loose my grip on the paddle to wipe my eyes.
Jawbone.We had to hit this fall at the right angle or risk flipping the raft.
“At flows above 1.8 you have a back door entrance down river left into the eddy. Peel out of the big river left eddy, go around the curler, stay out of decap (the first undercut on the right) and either eddy out above Hydroelectric Rock (also undercut) or continue on around it, punching a pretty solid hole. Jawbone is kinda scary with all the undercuts. Keep in mind that if you eddy out above Hydroelectric Rock you need to aggressively cross the eddy line before running the left side drop of Hydro. Blowing this move can lead to being sucked in to Hydro.” -American Whitewater
Spinning around in the current, we entered the rapid backwards and slammed into the rock wall and then back again. Although backwards, thankfully our raft hit the angle just right and we came out relatively unscathed. Out came the long ropes from the river’s side, thrown by the guides who had walked ahead. We grabbed them and pulled until the raft was safe on the small rocky beach on the side of the river. We would wait for the other rafts to come down before we finished the rest of the falls.
The Other Raft
Another raft came down and joined us on the side.
Next up was the rest of our guys, along with a man, Michael, his wife, Mary Ann, and their grandson, Jack, and two guides. One of those guides was our crunchy guide who had walked back up the river to assist. He took the front of the raft. On the beach we couldn’t see them until they were just above Jawbone. They approached the rapid and slid down, but they blew the approach. Our guide on the front of the raft hit the hydro, where the water flows backwards on it self, and was immediately sucked under along with the rest of the front of the raft. This sent the entire raft end over end, and threw the entire party into the water.
Time slowed as my heartbeat quickened. Adrenaline flooded my body and although my vision became laser focused, the river’s violent roar muffled all other sounds. What’s described next, took only a matter of moments. Pardon the language.
This was really bad. The guides started throwing ropes from both sides of the river. “SWIM LEFT, SWIM LEFT, GRAB THE ROPES!”
Our 4 guys were able to swim to the far shore. Jack grabbed a rope and a guide started pulling him in. The current was too strong and the guide was getting pulled into the water. “Grab Me!” he yelled toward me. I jumped to him, clasped my fingers around the harness wrapped about his chest and back and pulled, digging my heels deep into the sand. MaryAnn was able to swim to the left shore after grabbing another rope.
Michael was still in the water. “You got him?” referring to Jack. “Yeah, I got him,” I said as the guide threw off the first rope and immediately strapped on a second and threw it out toward Michael. I pulled Jack to the shore.
“GRAB THE ROPE” The guide threw the rope at Michael. He pulled the rope back and threw a another time. “GRAB THE ROPE! GRAB THE FUCKING ROPE! GRAB THE FUCKING ROPE!!!”
Several guides had joined in and they threw rope after rope at him, but Michael bobbed in the middle of the river, unconscious.
Then…… he was gone.
Allison’s Rock
Allison’s rock, center right. At the time of the accident, water covered all of the undercut section of rock.
Everyone looked for him. He was just here. Where did he go? Did he go down Sock’em Dog?
One of the guides ran down to look out past Sock’em Dog. He wasn’t there. Oh no.
There’s a flat rock in the middle of the river that has a giant hole in the middle of it that water flows through down the fall. He was sucked into it.
The guides frantically anchored themselves and rushed to the rock. Standing on Allison’s Rock, they reached their hands, and then their legs to feel for him. Even the 6’4″ guide with his long legs could not feel him. He grabbed a paddle for extra reach and started thrusting it into the water desperate to find him.
I was in disbelief at what I was seeing. I sat with Mary Ann and pulled Jack over and told him to sit with her. The guides were doing all they could do, but it was clear that we needed God’s power to show up. We needed a miracle.
I walked down the beach and I prayed. “God, you didn’t save my sister from dying, you didn’t save my brother from prison, and you didn’t save my marriage, but please God, PLEASE, would you save this man? PLEASE GOD, save this man’s life!”
I walked back to the beach behind Mary Ann and her grandson and I plead with God for salvation, but time passed.
20 secs under the water
1 minute underwater
2 minutes under
5 minutes
10 mins
20
It Was Over
“No!” The lump in my throat tightened and I exhaled the breath I had been holding for 20 minutes. I felt sick.
The guides stood up and circled together. I knew it was over. Michael had been underwater longer than anyone could have survived. Miracles don’t happen, not to me. My “beautiful” God is powerless against he violence of this river.
The guides made their way back to shore. Nobody spoke. Dead eyes staring at nothing, all of us. I noticed Mary Ann still sitting on the beach, her grandson had moved to the side with blank on his face. No one had told her. I stepped over to her and sat down.
I put my arm around her and she turned her face to me. She looked a thousand yards past me. Without emotion, she asked, “Is my husband coming up?” I responded, What do I, a complete stranger, say to a woman who has just watched her husband of nearly 25 years die before her eyes? WHAT DO I SAY?!
“No ma’am, he’s not.”
“Well,” she paused, “I guess we have to go down the rest of the river.”
“Yes ma’am, we do.”
She was in shock.
Divorcing God
We did need to go down the rest of the river. It was going to take a little time for everyone to recover themselves before we would be ready to finish the trip. So I walked away from everyone into the woods downstream.
I was SEETHING with anger and rage. Alone with God, I let him have it. I unloaded a lifetime of disappointment, hurt, and pain. My rage consumed me and my body thrashed, my mouth frothing as fury poured over my lips faster than the Chattooga current. Never had I spoken to God that way before, but he needed to hear what I had to say.
And when I was done with what I had to say, I was done with this “God” I thought I had known, and in that moment I divorced God.
“I’m done with you, now leave me alone.” And I walked away.
Starting Over
It would take a while to fully process everything that had happened, but after my outburst was over and the anger subsided. I realized something. The god that I divorced was the god that I thought I knew. The problem was that the god I thought I knew was not God at all. The god I thought I knew was a god that would eventually bow to my will. He would be tame a controllable. God is beautiful and violent. He is loving and hurtful. He is terrifying and incredibly unsafe, but he is always good. I divorced the god of my inflated ego and left a marriage to a god built with my own selfish knowledge. It was only now that I could begin to know who God really was.
The next year I spent throwing away everything I knew about God and starting over. ” I don’t even know who you are. I thought I knew you, but it’s clear now that you are way different than I had thought.” This beautiful Jesus needed to be reconciled with this violent act of God. I had to reconcile the worship lyrics “You have done great things” with my experience of really terrible things. And I had to process the words “you are good” against the ever nagging question “Are you good?” Through the suffering of my soul, I grew in faith.
