MAJ. BRENT RASBERRY
412th Theater Engineer Command
U.S. Army Reserve
Vicksburg, Mississippi
It was a typical summer family weekend spent on the Amite River. My family and I had taken out the boat and stopped at a sandbar — a common gathering spot where people tie up their vessels, eat lunch and unwind. That weekend, a close friend of mine came out on the boat with us. Like me, he was a confident swimmer who often swam laps at our university pool for exercise. Neither of us expected to be humbled by the river that day.
Looking across the narrow stretch of water, we saw a rope swing and decided to swim across. There was no boat traffic at the time, and the swim looked like a quick out-and-back. I made it to the far bank quickly and turned to see my friend stopped and treading water in the middle of the river. Then, unexpectedly, he slipped below the surface.
At first, I did not think much of it, assuming he was playing around. When he resurfaced, there was fear on his face. His eyes were wide, and he was gasping for air. Then he went under again. That is when I knew it was not a joke.
I shouted to my family, who were still eating on the sandbar, and swam toward him as fast as I could. My family also sprang into action, firing up the boat. By the time I reached the middle of the river, my friend was in a panic. He latched onto me and pulled me under.
Most people do not realize how fast a swimmer in distress can turn into a drowning risk for their rescuer. My friend is 6 feet, 4 inches tall and weighs 225 pounds. I am 5 feet, 7 inches tall and weigh 175 pounds. It does not take much for a panicked person to overpower you in the water. Fortunately, I had basic lifesaving training and remembered what to do: get free, come from behind and keep their head above water.
Underwater, I managed to break free from his grip and swam a few feet away. I talked to him, calming him down enough to perform a tired swimmer assist. I swam behind him, wrapped my arm across his chest and performed a sidestroke, towing him backward. By that point, he had gone limp, completely exhausted. Seconds later, my family arrived with the boat and pulled him onboard. He was safe but shaken, and so were we.
Here is what I learned that day, and what everyone should take seriously: strong swimmers still drown. My friend was in great shape and was a confident swimmer — yet a short swim in the river almost took his life.
We often assume that the ability to swim is enough. It is not. Conditions in natural water are unpredictable. Currents, fatigue, cold and visibility all play a role. The water in the Amite River is brown and murky. Once someone submerges, you cannot see them, and every second matters. Fortunately, I saw what happened and reacted fast. Without that, the story would have ended very differently. That is why water safety is not just about knowing how to swim. It is about being prepared.
- Wear a personal flotation device (PFD): We were not wearing PFDs for that short swim. That was a mistake. Even if you are just jumping in for a few minutes, a life vest can buy you crucial time.
- Get proper training: A short lifeguarding course taught me how to support a panicked swimmer. Those skills made the difference between two survivors and a double tragedy.
Every time I head out on the water, I recall that moment. I think about how quickly things escalated and how important it is to stay ready — not just for myself, but for those around me. The water does not care how strong you are. Panic can overwhelm the best of us. Wear the vest. Get trained. Stay alert. Do not ever assume it cannot happen to you.