The days of my early childhood were spent along the Saranac River. The river provided most of our entertainment from swimming to ice skating. The river also provided some harrowing experiences. One of these experiences had to do with my father. He had gone out hunting early one freezing cold winter day. The river had for the most part froze over. It was starting to get dark when we realized dad hadn't returned yet. we really never worried about him as he was tough as nails and new how to handle himself. It was dark out and now we were getting worried. i was getting dressed to go out and look for him when we heard a thumping on the porch door. I opened the door and there was dad. He looked like an abomination. his gun was frozen to his hands and he held the gun straight out. he was covered in ice and could barely move. Mom and I managed to get him in the door and then proceeded to thaw him out. Maybe my memory fails me but it seems like it was an hour before we got all his clothes off him and got him covered in warm blankets. He had fallen thru the ice on the river and somehow managed to claw his way out using his rifle to purchase a grip on the ice. I went out the following day to see where he went thru the ice. I believe god was looking over him that day. It was at least a mile away where he had attempted to cross the river and had fallen thru at least 20 yards from shore.
I honestly don't know how he survived. He ended up losing a finger and an ear from frostbite and i consider him extremely lucky that was all. one thing i forgot to mention the temperature was a -10 degrees that day not figgering the windchill.
