Rev. Jim Swarthout's essay
The view from the river's edge is breathtaking. It is especially so during my daily morning prayer. We have found our home on the Fox River a place of rest and reflection, and that's why we've named it "Even Song."
But when I was awakened at 2:30 in the morning by huge spotlights blazing across the river, all that was shattered. Rescue boats, police squad cars, fire trucks and scores of people packed the water's edge.
Walking to the river's edge with my flashlight, I notice two paddle boats that were half submerged at the base of our pier. A cameraman from Channel 2 soon arrived in the yard along with a police officer with his rescue dog.
I soon realized that my prayers, and the prayers of many, were going to be urgently needed.
My wife and I have lived on the Fox directly across from Camp Algonquin for the last five years. We have often seen people, young and old, sitting on the river bank, praying, reflecting, playing and hopefully, envisioning their future. The camp has been a wonderful place to gather, and I have had the opportunity to teach and celebrate Mass there and laugh around a campfire.
Helicopters began to be heard and seen as daylight broke. Newspaper reporters requested the use my pier in order to get a closer view, but I felt the privacy and respect due to the families involved was more important, and that this place on the river had become a sacred place.
About the time daylight came and the searchlights were no longer needed, I found out that the kids involved were from Lawndale College Prep. I have a longtime friend on staff at Lawndale, and just a few weeks ago I visited him during a teacher institute day. I was overwhelmed by the dedication and passion of the teachers at this school, who have worked diligently to prepare young people from under-resourced communities to develop the skills and personal resilience for successful completion of college.
Because of this, I felt compelled to reach out to them, and made a trip to Camp Algonquin where I found him and staff members groping to understand this tragedy and deal with their overwhelming grief.
As the day moved on, the sad work of search personal was completed, the river became calmer and the people from the county began towing the paddle boats across the river back to the camp. Another sad connection for me was made when I learned that one of the boys who had passed graduated from St. Gregory's Episcopal Elementary School, where I spend one day a week ministering.
It's now Saturday morning and all is quiet on the river's edge as if nothing has happened. But something has changed, and for me, it will never quite be the same.
The words of Psalm 139 come to mind. "Surely the darkness shall fall on me, even the night shall be light about me; Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, but the night shines as the day; The darkness and the light are both alike to You"
Wherever we live, be it Barrington Hills, or the Lawndale Community, we belong to each other, and the blogs online from people from all over our community and country acknowledging this tragedy prove that it's true.
Prayers have united us and will continue to knit our hearts together as we acknowledge the universality of human suffering.
This weekend at St. Paul in McHenry, we will be remembering these fine young men of so much promise and families left behind with so much pain. Let us together, with one heart, bring prayers of peace to the river's edge, remember, as painful as it is, the waters' promise of eternal life.