Losing Miss Tippy on Bankston Creek

Have you ever done something that seemed really exciting before you did it, but after it was over, wondered "what was I thinking"? I sometimes feel like I have a corner on that market. Second question. Have you almost lost your kids? I mean lost like can't get them back because of physical danger? Well for a while I may have had the corner on that one too. So here is another in a long line of "Boy that was close!" encounters.

We used to have a fiberglass canoe that we would take with us to go down the Current River, Jack's Fork River, Eleven Point River or for that matter, any river that we could float on. Kids named her Miss Tippy for obvious reasons. During the transition from Winter to Spring in the year 1994, brother-in-law John, son Chris (age 6) and myself decided to take advantage of the rain swollen condition of a local creek named Bankston Fork.

I don't think you will find Bankston Fork listed on any but the most detailed Sothern Illinois map, but it is a muddy little creek that runs for about 20 miles from its beginning to its eventual deposit into the Saline Creek which in turn flows to the Ohio River. That spring, the creek was out of its banks and into neighboring fields, making it floatable for nearly its entire length.

We loaded the canoe, paddles, seat cushions and the one life jacket (for Chris) and made arrangements to be picked up between Muddy and Harrisurg. Yes the name of the town is Muddy. We put the canoe in the water just outside of Carrier Mills with John in front, Chris in the middle and myself in the back.

There was a cold sprinkle falling. The temperature was in the mid 40's. Each time we came to a bridge John and I alternated positions. So after a couple of position changes, we found ourselves at the Dorris Heights bridge. Now, there was nothing remarkable about that bridge, other than the water was up so high, we had to take the canoe out and carry it around to the other side to put it back in the water.

It was my turn to sit in back and "steer". (this is where the spooky music should begin) As we steered for the fast water of the center of the channel, we were swept headlong into a Cedar tree. Trying to avoid tree without any forward motion allowed us to hit the tree and, well, tip over. The scramble was on! We did manage to regain our places in the then submerged canoe, but with only one paddle. We couldn't steer the canoe and it quickly turned back over again, dumping us back into the cold, muddy water.

I grabbed Chris so as not to let him float away. My heavy army coat did not help staying afloat. John eventually swam to the shore as I swam on my back pulling Chris closer to the shore. John, to his credit, ran along the shore and picked up a branch and extended it to me, but when he tried to pull us over, the branch broke. (very distressing) There were lots of eddies in the water and when hittng them, I would occasionally go under the brown murky water. Eventually John did get us pulled out.

We lay on the side of the creek shivering and trying to catch our breath. As we clutched the muddy bank, we watched Miss Tippy and our other gear float by. We discussed going back in to recover them, but instead, watched Miss Tippy float away toward the unseen Ohio River.

We walked back along the creekbank and eventually got a ride to make a phonecall. Help came and we made it back home. I wonder where Miss Tippy ended up. There are some things I don't undersand.