Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - Part Six

    Jim drove us to his home in the outskirts of the city. There were two rooms laid out for us to use, with one bed in each. We split the rooms between girls and boys.
    To this day I do not know how he could have planned it that well or how Jim anticipated the arrangements, but there were two dozen daylilies in vases in the room Ma and I shared. Jim said it was his little secret to keep, but it is easy to figure out that Pa had something to do with it.
     Those flowers were as pretty as a rainbow. He was persistent enough to find different blooming lilies in the colors of red, yellow, pink, purple, and melon. The room smelled gorgeous, it was clean, and all the linen smelled fresh. From the very start I felt right at home.
     His house was small. A two story, three bedroom home. I figured at the time, the size of the house was due on account of everyone living so close together in the city. Homes were built on small plots of land and sectioned off in blocks. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't expand your property line because every inch was laid out ahead of time. No space left on either side of your property. It wasn't anything like the rural area I came from. This was all new to me.
    Then, when I heard how much Jim had paid for his piece of property, I thought he was crazy. It cost more than our small farm in North Carolina. And we had at least ten times as much land as he had.
    What he did have, considered at the time, as all the modern conveniences. He had electricity coming into the house for lighting and running a refrigerator. He had his milk delivered in the morning, twice a week, to his front porch no less. The privy? It was actually inside the home. Running water was pumped in from the outside on pipes to the wash basin and the ceramic bowl of the toilet.
     I was surprised, being so young, at how amazing technology could be. But I also thought how extravagant it all was. My family and I were happy enough without it. We didn't need modern conveniences to enjoy life. We always had each other.
     I can laugh at how that sounds now in 1971, but coming from Little Pigsty, North Carolina in 1934, we were still priming a hand pump for water and digging holes for outhouses down hill and down wind.
     That evening Mama insisted on cooking a meal for everyone. So she whipped up some fried chicken and baked potatoes, with me helping her on the clean up.
     Afterwards, Pa and our host sat down alone at the kitchen table. They wanted to study a map Jim had purchased ahead of time of the Niagara River leading up to and after the falls.
     The rules stated that you could not add rudders or paddles to direct your barrel down the river. So Pa and Jim agreed that it would be a good idea to know which way the currents would flow. In that way, you would have at least a general idea which side of the falls you would be going over.
     Of course, Pa would be launching from the United States side of the river. The rules stated that the starting point must be at least 900 yards up river from the edge of the falls, on our side of the border.
     The key, again both men agreed on this, would be to get a really good push from shore at the very start of Papa's ride down the river. If he didn't, there was the possibility of his barrel riding along the bank. Which could lead to his craft running up on the embankment and being beached on land. Then Pa would have been disqualified, since you can only be pushed out into the river the one time.
     There was also the chance while riding along the bank of the underbelly of the barrel getting scraped by rocks underwater. Maybe puncturing a whole. Then Pa would have had to abandon ship. That would end his one and only chance at success. Or, if dumb luck played a part in Pa's quest for the prize money, his barrel might get intertwined by the occasional branches from trees that hug over the river's edge.
     If that wasn't enough for them to worry about, then there are the different size islands in the river which affect the currents by squeezing the rushing water tighter together. Effectively creating formidable rapids in those areas that a trained rafter might have a hard time passing through unscathed. And that's with the help of a rudder and oars at his disposal. My Pa had neither.
     Once you are in the rapids, there is little you can do to help your situation. The current will bounce you around inside your barrel like fresh butter on a hot griddle.
     The closer you are to an island, the rapids act more aggressive. It's that simple. If you can get to the middle of the river, you have a better chance of not getting hurt while you bounce around inside your barrel. The water flows faster there, but steadier than closer to the islands. Also, the preferred way of going over Niagara's edge is on the left side of the falls. There the basin is as deep as the falls is high. That way there are no worries of going deep underwater and hitting the bottom and cracking your barrel open like an egg.
     Finally, there was the contest's rules. One stipulation stated; At the time of a Contestant's turn to barrel roll one Niagara Falls, every effort must be made to go around the left side of Goat Island. If by chance there is a tie at the end of the year and one Barrel Roller transverses the falls on the left side Goat Island and the other Roller the right, the Prize Money will be automatically awarded to the Roller who around Goat Island on its left.
     The promoters wanted to make sure the V.I.P.s got a good showing. They had set up a grandstand to seat the dignitaries so they would have the best view of the river, the falls, and anyone barrel rolling. Since the left side of the island has a wider edge to go over than the right, the organizers felt most rollers would go over on that side anyways.
     I had no idea of all the things that went into planning his roll until it came time for my Pa to take his turn. Then I realized what was involved and what could have happened to him. I became really frightened for the first time and began to cry.

     This is,

Saying I Couldn't Write For The Last Couple Of Days Because Sometimes Life Happens

Jim Hauenstein

And,

“Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.”
- Allen Saunders -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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