Wise Move

Last Saturday a large group of friends went to a place called  Gator Joe’s  to listen to my son-in-law, Sutton, perform.   Gator Joe’s  is an old Florida bar on Lake Weir.  One of the area’s claims to fame is this is where Ma Barker and her son, Fred,  met their demise.  Ma Barker and her gang were among the  FBI’s Most Wanted during the 1930’s.

As the story goes, federal agents surrounded a house  at 13250 East County Road-25 in Ockalawaha, Florida  on the morning of January 16, 1935.   The agents ordered them to surrender, but Fred Barker opened fire. He and his mother were killed after an intense, hours-long shootout. Allegedly, many local people came to watch the events unfolding, even holding picnics during the gunfire. (I’m guessing that this was typical behavior for this part of the country during the 30’s.)

There were no shots fired last Saturday unless you count whiskey and tequila.  (I had neither.)

Saturday was a beautiful day and the beach around Gator Joe’s was full with dozens of  swimmers.   There was also a large number of wave runners commanding the water near the bar.  Think “Hell’s Angels” only on wave runners.  There must have been fifteen, or more, running wide open. They raced and created huge waves that added to the spectacle.   I thought more than once that they would collide in their playful frenzy.

David’s father-in-law, Larry, was a part of our “listen to Sutton” crowd and we witnessed the wave runner show together.  At one point he told me, “I’ve never been on a wave runner.”

His comment struck a chord with me.   We had a wave runner at our home on Lake LeAnn for several years.  Everyone enjoyed riding, especially Ruth and the kids.   Ruth likes to “go fast” on water and a wave runner brings the water up close and personal.  If we were home, somebody was riding it.

One summer day I came home from work and found a note from Michael on the kitchen counter.   I hope that I have saved it, but if I did, it’s hidden among a multitude of notes, letters and cards that David, Elizabeth and Michael have written over the years.

If my memory is correct, it read something like this:

Dad,

I had an accident with the wave runner.  I bumped into Mr. Felcher’s boat and broke a hole in the side.  I have talked with Mr. Felcher and I will pay for the repairs. I know that you are going to be mad so I’m not coming home tonight.  If I do I know that you are going to yell at me and we both might say things that we’ll regret.  I am fine.  I will see you tomorrow.

Mike

I read the note and drove over to the Felcher’s.  I went down to the lake and saw the “hole”.  It was about ten inches in diameter, a few inches above the water line.  I spoke to Mr. Felcher and suggested a place to have it repaired.  He handled the problem very well.  Much better than me.

Michael didn’t come home, but I did some research and knew where he was staying.  The next day, when I got home from work, he was waiting for me.  He explained what happened.

Two girls, Heather and Kendra,  (Kendra was Mike’s girlfriend at the time.) were sunbathing on Heather’s family boat.  Michael and a friend, Eric, were out on our wave runner.   Michael saw the girls and decided to throw a wake on the sunbathers.  As he turned to throw the wake, the wave runner slid on top of the water, and crashed into the boat.  The hole was caused when the rear of the wave runner hit the boat.

We discussed the problem without me going ballistic.  Michael knew that he had exercised poor judgement and we discussed  everything like grown-ups should.  I made very sure that I spoke softly and listened to everything that he had to say.   I know in my heart that his decision to stay away for the night, and hold our discussion on the following day, was a wise move.