I knew Riley around 45 years ago at summer Camp but remember that he was from New Madrid, Missouri. I remember because he was, even at about 12, so accustomed to people saying “where”? that he would quickly add – “largest city on the Mississippi River….before the earth quake”. A subsequent earth science course confirmed the magnitude of the upheaval which reportedly rang church bells in Boston. So quick was he, at so young an age, with New Madrid highlights that I figured he was sure to end up mayor or at least head of the Chamber of Commerce.
Riley’s other memorable feature was generally being armed to the teeth. Back in those days you could get actual Army surplus from the Army Surplus store; bayonets, machetes, all manner of smaller cutlery. Riley was sawed-off early and if he had actually carried a saw no one would have noticed. I do not remember if he marched around Camp so equipped but if he did it didn’t matter; that’s what summer camp is for. I do know he was always fully armed when ever we went into the field.
One such trip took us to a Tennessee state park for an overnight camp out. Being the nature counselor, after camp site set up, I formed an expedition of the willing and off we went to see what was happening along on the lake’s shore.
Not much was happening until we came upon a fair sized hole in the bank at water level with a fresh mud cloud coming out of it. I alerted the group, opined that it was likely muskrat or snapping turtle activity, and was about to move on because sticking one’s hand in fair sized fresh holes is way too sawed-off. Then Riley must have moved because the sound of clanging metal reminded me we were better prepared to deal with this opportunity than was typically the case. I says, “Riley, let me see your bayonet”. I recall him pleased to share because I suspect he was probably operating under some sort of official “use it and lose it” personal weaponry injunction.
So we start sounding the hole, from the lake end, with the bayonet. It goes easily in as we follow the hole progressing landward. We followed the easy dirt toward the base of a big tree and then we got a “thud” sound from a half depth plunge and the bayonet starts shaking back and forth as if someone were on the other end. I says, “Riley let me see your hatchet”. And down, and around, we dug to a very big, very surprised, snapper. So big in fact that he was too heavy to carry safely by his tail far enough away from my leg. As we wanted more than a “you should have been there” tale back at the camp site a new transport method had to be invented. A kid on each leg was not going to last long and dragging him seemed a little harsh. So (and I still have trouble believing this but it’s what I remember) I hoisted him, his top shell to my skull top, his head to my back, and off to our encampment the proud hunting party marched.
The turtle weighed in at a bit over twenty pounds. Somebody came up with a bath tub for outside the Nature Hut and there the prize resided till Camp’s summer end. I dropped him off in a nearby river and that was that.
I fudged slightly on this story and tracked Riley down with Google. He was still in New Madrid and went way past the Chamber of Commerce from the stand point of the Missouri historical establishment. What I didn’t do was ask him what he had in his pockets. However I predict with high certainty, Riley is rarely without the biggest Swiss Army knife ever made and a leatherman tool (ah technology!) very close at hand. The fundamental things really do apply as time goes by.
ML
5/18/07
