Of Sam and the river
excerpts from Sam McKinney’s message to himself from the Columbia River
River says to me I will always run free. I am the wind, the tides of the moon, the rain of the sea & the sun….Now then if you want, follow me as you once did in your first boat, that summer of your youth when you first discovered me & yourself…And, river says, when all is over for you, join me in following around that great circle of life that is the rain, the tides, the wind…Now you are old, you have lost your courage, your sense of hope, your lust for adventures of the unknown. Return to me & I will help you to regain what you have lost…the sense of joy that my waters carry…on their journey from the mountains to the sea…I will be with you at every curve in every season, your companion to lead you through darkness & despair back to who you have been and can be again.
Yesterday, I spent the day with some amazing people at Kelley Point Park - where the Willamette River meets the Columbia. Friends and family of Sam McKinney gathered to celebrate his life. After a battle with leukemia, McKinney ended his life last December through Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act (see previous post). McKinney was a boat builder (you can see some of his boats in the background of the photo), author, historian and all around adventurer. I wish I had known him.
I was honored to be a witness this day. Although, what makes me sad is that these kind of intimate life experiences are happening everyday and most of the time we are too busy photographing meetings, events and whatever else the PR departments send out.
After telling some of their favorite Sam stories, the group went to the river’s edge to spread their friend’s ashes where he was most at home.
Comments
Comment from T.Brown
Date: August 7, 2007, 9:10 pm
Man, I wish I had known Sam too. That passage is so beautiful, as are your pictures, RF. I am SO happy to see still moments from you again (I mean, aside from Lady and Brubeck). The slideshow was just lovely. An honor to the day they did of him. Thanks for sharing.
Comment from Joel Davis
Date: November 17, 2007, 12:48 pm
That passage Sam wrote resonates with me as well. I know that exact spot very well. When I first came to Portland, on an early summer day in 1980, a family was picnicing there, drinking, playing, smoking, partying–and the son and Dad started bobbing in the current and the Dad got caught. I couldn’t get a boater to cast off, so I grabbed a kid’s air mattress and tried to get to him, but he went down a few yards in front of me. I dove down, but at about ten feet, the water turned icy and black and something told me this was a realm into which I could not go. I made it back to the shore, to the stunned family. The Mom had a bloody foot from running along the shoreline. I looked back from my blanket and saw them–the cooler, the family dog–all staring out at the river. The Dad’s big ol’ sneakers were still waiting for him, on the towel. I had my camera, but couldn’t find it in myself to make a picture. Yes, it was poignant and it was news, but it was way, way too close to the bone for me. The guy’s name was Charlie. I’ve always thought of that spot as Charlie’s beach, so it’s nice for me to see it as a quiet place again, where Sam took his rest. A touching tribute you made here, Rob.
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