' Bt-v. , 'A
' 1
kid
A trembling Jqnet
Wick gets carried
ashore by rescuers
after her fight for
life in icy waters.
4 '
PRAYER SAVED MY LIFE
A vicious storm struck this pleasure cruise, but God was there, too.
by JANET WICK as told to John M. Ross
IT promised to be a wonderful Sunday afternoon.
A 25-mile cruise from Tacoma to Seattle, Wash.,
on a handsome 43-foot cruiser, with dinner served
aboard! It was enough to make a 16-year-old girl
tingle with excitement.
We met at the Point Defiance Yacht. Club in
Tacoma, after church services on April 26 the
Johnson, Tayet, and Torgenson families, seven
adults and five children. With the exception of
me, everyone was related in some way, from
Martin Tayet, 82, down to his four-month-old
granddaughter, Janna Lynn. The Johnsons and
their son Rolf were my friends.
The weather was not ideal intermittent rain
and a strong, chilly wind but no one considered
calling off the cruise. It was the -first time the
relatives had been able to join together for a
family outing aboard Mr. Johnson's new boat, the
Lois Ann, and everyone seemed anxious to make
the most of the opportunity. After stocking the
galley with food, we left the dock around noon.
The weather worsened as we headed up Puget
Sound. The wind became stronger and the waves
began to climb higher.. But the sturdy Lois Ann
seemed equal to the challenge, and we thoroughly
enjoyed a chicken dinner, complete with home
made strawberry shortcake. ,
It was after dinner,' around 2 p.m., when the
first signs of trouble appeared. Rolf and I had gone
forward on the top deck. The others were aft,
sitting about the cabin or on the cabin deck, chat
ting. Suddenly the wind increased and five- to
six-foot waves began to ride over the stern,
flooding the cabin.
The ladies became very excited now, and called
to Rolf and me to come down to the cabin and
put on life jackets. We didn't budge. There were
too many on the cabin deck already, and they
seemed to be causing the boat to ride deeply
and take on water. Mr. Johnson, the skipper, ap
parently agreed. He ordered everyone out of the
cabin and forward. No one responded. Even with
the flooding, the cabin must have seemed safer
than the exposed forward deck.
As she rapidly took on water, the Lots Ann
began to rock violently. Mr. Johnson made his
way forward with the white "disaster flag,"
handed it to me and said: "Wave this, Janet, so
someone might see us." I clutched the rail with one
hand and waved the flag with the other, but we
seemed to be all alone. And now the thought sud
denly exploded in my mind: we're going to sink!
Within seconds, one crisis piled upon another.
Mr. Johnson tried to maneuver the boat into the
wind to repel some of the waves, but the engine
went dead apparently flooded.
A terrible scream pierced the howl of the wind
as another big wave struck, carrying Mrs. John
son over the side. Without a life jacket, Mr. John
son jumped in to rescue her. Just as he left the
deck, the Lois Ann took another wave and rolled
over , on her starboard side and began to sink.
Terrible screams came from the cabin, where the
others had huddled in desperation.
Rolf and I plunged into the water. For the
moment I didn't think of my lack of a life jacket,
or of the fact that I was weighted down by a
heavy car coat and shoes. I saw two-year-old
Rodney Tayet struggling in his life jacket and I
started after him. Rolf got to him first and handed
him to Mr. Johnson, who was clinging desperately
to the bow of the boat. Rodney's father, Fritz
Tayet, without a preserver, was having a terrible
time in the water. Rolf tried to help him. I never
saw Mr. Tayet again.
I looked around and spotted only Mrs. Johnson,
who was managing to stay afloat in her life jacket.
Quickly I had a decision to make. Should I cling
to the bow of the boat, still nosing out of the
water, like Mr. Johnson, was doing? Or should I
. chance it to Mrs. Johnson some 50 yards away?
What if she wouldn't let me hang onto her?
Would I be strong enough to return to the boat?
I set out for Mrs. Johnson. I'm a good swimmer,
but I tire when I'm excited. In addition, my heavy
clothing, the cold water, and the high waves made
the distance seem like the width of the Pacific.
Mrs. Johnson was in a state of shock, but she let
me hold on. I peered through the storm around us,
hoping to see a boat coming to save us. There was
none. Now I turned to my last hope prayer.
Ours, is a religious family. My parents always
have taught my seven brothers and sisters and me
to pray when we need help or guidance. I've
never hesitated to heed their advice. And now I
was glad for that. I did not come to Him as a
stranger.
"Oh, God, please help me," I begged. "Please
don't let me die like this. Save me, please."
I prayed as hard as I could. Mrs. Johnson prayed,
too. The minutes dragged on until it had been
almost half an hour since the boat capsized. My
strength began to slip away. I lost my grip on
Mrs. Johnson and I went under for the first time.
. When I found her again I began to cry. Was this
God's answer, I wondered. How much longer could
I stand the angry waves lashing at my almost
numb body?
I repeated my prayer in a louder voice, almost
screaming to be heard above the roaring sea. I
closed my eyes momentarily in meditation, and
when I opened them again God's answer was
before me. A hand was reaching out for me. There
was a boat and a man a messenger from Heaven.
"Hang on. You'll be all right," the voice said.
"Give me your hand." Within minutes I was safely
on the South Seattle Shore. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,
Rolf, and little Rodney were saved, too. The seven
others were not.
At the hospital a kind nurse patted my hand
gently and said: "Young lady, you should never
stop thanking your mommy and daddy for teach
ing you to swim." ' .
I'm grateful they did, of course. But more than
that, I'm glad they taught me to pray.
7
LEONARD S. DAVIDOW President and Publi,ker
WAITER C. DREYFUS Viee-Preiident
' PATRICK I. OKOURKE Adverting Director
July tt, 15 j., ojMn, communications lo
Family Weekly, 153 N. Michigan Ave, Chicago I, III.
Address all communications about editorial features to
Family Weekly, 60 E. 56th St., Now York 22, N. Y.
Board of Editors I ERNEST V. HEYN Editor-in-Chief
BEN KARTMAN Executive Editor
ROBERT FITZOIBBON Managing Editor
RALPH J. FINCH, JR. 4 re Director
MELANIE DE ft OFT Food Editor
Jock ;. Kevin Brown, Honor Singor, Bob Driscoll,
row uppenneimor, Hollywood.
195.. FAMILY WEEKLY MAOAZINE, ,NC, 153 N. Michigan Av... Chicago 1. III. All right. d