When he was a boy, Charles "Chub" Came was sledding down a steep snowy bank toward the north side of Oneida River. The river water was about four feet deep, swift, and turbulent under a thin layer of ice. Charles sped down the hill. He meant to turn left before the river, but lost control of his sled. He crashed through the ice into the current and was immediately swept beneath it. From the porch of a hotel overlooking the river, Mr. Charles Kenyon and Mr. J.W. Emmons witnessed the accident. They rushed for the bridge to a small open space of water. Mr. Emmons bravely went out onto the ice, put his face over the hole, and watched for the appearance of the body in case it passed beneath him. When it did, Mr. Emmons reached down, grabbed Chub, and passed him to Mr. Kenyon who took the boy to safety. They resuscitated Chub, but he was suffering from hypothermia. Mrs. Everson, who was baking bread at the time, took hot loaves from the oven and surrounded Chub’s body with them to help revive him.
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This is my retelling of a true story I found in a little self-published book by Katherine J. Barclay at our local library. It happened in Brewerton more than a hundred years ago. It's amazing how stories like these have helped me feel more connected to this place. Of course all the people in the story have since passed away. Their bones are buried in the nearby Riverside Cemetery.
5 comments:
Oh the treasures you can find in a library! What a great story. She was very smart to warm him with bread! Are the pictures ones that you took of their graves or are they from the book?
I love this story! Very true that one needs to know the stories to feel at "home" and understand a new place. There is a man I met here who was pretty uptight about a certain thing and I rolled my eyes a little bit because of it. Until I found out that a tragic event caused him to do that. He will never allow it to happen again.
I took the pictures before I read the story. It makes me want to go back and find all their graves. It makes me wonder who, if any, of their descendants are still here. I never used to pay much attention to history. I've definitely warmed up to it.
I like this story, too. For a minute I thought you were going to write more about their bones...great local color!
Your professor should love it too.
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