Prologue
Several members of the crew held ropes connected
to the raft to hold it in place while Lassie and I climbed on board.
The water was shallow and calm, but frigid in this bend of the Sonora
River, high in the Sierras. I wore a wetsuit underneath my clothes.
It was awkward, but it helped keep the cold out. The shot had been
carefully explained. It could only be done once. Lassie and I were
to navigate downriver towards the white water by means of a long
pole I used to push the raft forward. When we hit the current, we
were to jump into the rapids. I should act like I'm in trouble, fighting
for my life. Downstream, out of camera range, there was a safety
line across the water. All I had to do was go with the flow of the
water, then reach up and grab the line as I passed under it. My stunt
man, Whitey Hughes, didn't think this was a good idea; he wanted
to go in for me. Director Bill Beaudine disagreed. Sure, it was dangerous,
but they'd all be there if something went wrong. Besides, they only
had one raft and it would disintegrate in the rapids. "So do little boys," thought
Whitey. Beaudine insisted that everything would be fine. Since they
could only get the shot once, it had to be me out there, not Whitey.
I enthusiastically agreed. I was a twelve-year-old boy looking to break
the monotony of a film shoot. This sounded exciting. Beaudine ignored
the warning and decided to risk letting me do the stunt. Lassie used
a double.
I boarded the raft and pushed it along in the shallow water. The
double dog sat next to me, alert and ready. I felt like Tom Sawyer
or Huck Finn, making my way downriver. A few moments later, everything
changed. The water swirled around us in all directions. The dog and
I got the cue to jump and we leaped into the water. Even with the
wet suit, the water felt like pins and needles stabbing my neck,
my hands and feet. My wet jacket and jeans were heavy and difficult
to move in. My leather boots filled with water. I struggled to keep
my head up as I hurtled downriver. The raft hit a rock and splintered
in a hundred pieces. White water spun me in circles. I couldn't see
the cameras anymore. The shore rushed by. I tried to focus on the
safety line stretched across the river. If I missed that, I'd really
be…BAM! I slammed
chest-first into a sharp rock hidden beneath the water. Instantly,
all the air was knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe. I was swallowing
water. Panicked, I flailed my arms wildly. I went under. Out of the
corner of my eye, I saw two of the crew get in the water. I gasped
for air, weak from the fight. They reached out their arms and scooped
the dog out of the rapids as I sailed by. I went under again. "The
kid is great," someone said. "What a performance." I
couldn't hear them. Exhausted, choking, I went under for the third
time.