When I taught a class called Recreational Leadership at Christian College, I scheduled a skating trip to Jacobs’ lake. One student from Hawaii and several Southerners had never been on natural ice. We planned the trip at class time on Tuesday, and we’d skate two days later. The ice was thick, and the Parks and Recreation Department had opened a local lake for skating. However, the sun came out on Tuesday afternoon, thermometers soared and, instead of a skating lesson, I had an opportunity to teach those future recreational leaders something about accident prevention and safe rescues. That’s why we loaded an ax, a long rope, a whistle and six plastic milk jugs of water on the bus that Thursday morning.

The ice on Jacobs’ lake that day had a strange honeycomb pattern, like fingernail-size hexagons, all over the surface. I chopped to test ice thickness at the shallow end of the lake. The slivers that popped out as the ax chopped through were the size and shape of pencils -- an indication that the ice was rotting in spite of being five inches thick. However, it was firm enough to support us, and the water was only about knee deep below.

We used the milk jugs as markers in a line parallel to the shore, and no one was to go beyond that line. We talked about how buoyancy of insulated clothing sometimes allows one to tip his head back to breathe, when in the water. We warned that creeks with flowing water were more dangerous than lakes and ponds.

Then we practiced imaginary rescues. First we took turns coiling and throwing the rope as lifeguards do and enjoyed being dragged over the smooth ice.

We also practiced self-rescue techniques. One blast of my whistle and the skaters went down flat on the ice in spread-eagle position. They’d then roll to safety. Or they could get on their backs and scoot to shore by digging the heels of their skates into the ice. We made a human chain, as in swimming, except we held to ankles instead of wrists because we were stretched out, flat down on the ice.

In skating, all of the body weight is borne where two tiny blades contact the ice. In the flat, spread-eagle position, that same weight is distributed over a larger area so weak ice is less likely to break. We looked around for some on-the-spot equipment such as a wide board, log, wooden ladder or far gate on which a rescuer could safely approach a drowning person. Yes, Jacobs had a wooden farm gate in sight. I explained that gates can be lifted off their brackets, without the use of tools. Makeshift devices can save lives when sophisticated equipment and rescue teams might arrive too late.

The drowning rate is high in Missouri and in other central states because ice freezes and thaws several times during a winter. It doesn’t thaw for months in northern states, and ice is rare in Southern areas. It’s essential that responsible adults be there when children are on natural ice if the drowning rate is to go down. Think of it as children perceive a frozen pond.

Boys might view it as a hockey arena. They might pick up a stick and knock a rock all over a pond as if they’re scoring a winning point. Girls might see themselves in sparkling costumes -- ballerinas, dancing and twirling like national champions. Is it any wonder that they forget the dangers? Each drowning is one too many.

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