We were laying out a picnic on a big flat rock beside the Yuba River below the Bridgeport Bridge when a couple of kids came running down the bank and as soon as they saw us I guess they knew we would have had to have seen their father still thrashing and splashing and trying to swim.
He was swept away from a beautiful pool about a mile upriver, where the river grinds stone into sand and the sand can
suddenly slip away
and eventually the EMT's from Yuba City picked up the kids in their all-purpose hearse and ambulance and there are worse ways to die than drowning in the Yuba River below the Bridgeport Bridge, where the river runs fast and cold and clear.
Aboriginal man, aboriginal TV repairman, I worked most of my life in Melbourne and Sydney, telecine to kinescope, film into TV in the Menzies Hotel, ghost to ghost from the American studios, but I don't die into ghost TV, I don't die into America neither, I die into fire and stars and whispers.