August 20, 2012Dear Sir,The front page of The Royal Gazette last Monday, August 12, 2012, carried the story of the near drowning of my three year old grandson, and joy of my life, Oscar. Oscar’s mother Natalie, had just finished feeding his nine month old sister, Ophelia, on the beach, and handed her to me in the water, about 16 inches deep, and sat beside me. When we started talking, Oscar got off my lap, and walked around us twice. During his third ‘lap’, as he passed my shoulder, Natalie said, ‘Where’s Oscar? Oh my god. Is that him? Faster!’ I had already passed, (or rather thrown), Natalie the baby, and taken the two steps to where Oscar’s feet had gone out from under him, and he lay suspended, still afloat, less than six feet from me, face up motionless. As I lifted him, I squeezed his chest, but it was obvious he had inhaled his capacity of seawater, so I rushed him on to the beach, where Natalie began CPR. She started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but it was too soon — he was still exhaling foamy water. I was about to begin some heavier compression, when a 35ish black Bermudian hero, (the same words I used in my later statement to the police), who had seen the incident and knew the family was too emotionally involved to provide the cool response our baby needed, quietly knelt beside me in the sand, and said, ‘I know CPR, mate. I got this.’ That hero is name Kenny Williams.Thank-you brother. God bless you. Kenny also tried mouth-to-mouth after Oscar coughed, but it was still premature, as Oscar continued to exhale foam and water. Then he gave four or five weak coughs, and began to gasp and pant, and Natalie and Kenny took him up to where the ambulance was very prompt in attendance. I rinsed off Ophelia, who was busily getting covered in sand, oblivious to her brother’s plight, inches away. Her father Aaron and grandma Nell arrived, and took Ophelia up the hill, and 15 minutes later we were all at KEMH. A lovely lady wearing a green top helped me up the hill with the two strollers. She had been sitting up the bank, about 40 feet away, and saw the whole incident. She told me that when Oscar fell backward, he flailed his arms, and she thought maybe he could swim, but she stood up to call out, and by the time she got to her feet, I already had Oscar on the beach. God bless you.At the hospital, Dr Hammond told us that a panicking child could indeed inhale his capacity of water in a split-second, and in the next second, would sink, having lost the buoyancy of air in his lungs. A little later, Dr Perinchief, Oscar’s paediatrician, explained his condition and cautiously optimistic prognosis, and admonished the family to focus on Oscar’s well-being, and not to get sidetracked with the blame game. Thank you for the advice, and the hopeful news. But, Dr Perinchief, that is not why I shook your hand so vehemently. It was because of the great honour that was mine, to be in the presence of a man whose dedicated response to his vocation is well-nigh inspirational. God bless you, and the ambulance, police, hospital emergency, ICU nurses, and hospital staff who cared for Oscar for two nights and days.I believe that next to a life that brings glory to God, and demonstrates the eternal Life in the Lord Jesus Christ, there is no higher calling than the care of children. My mother, Edith, who brought her five children to Bermuda in the later 60s, to teach us by example the ‘Law of Christ — to Love one another’, used to say, ‘I have no time to hate, but these I despise, hypocrisy and lies, and anything that takes the light from little children’s eyes.’ Amen! I’m a white boy from Toronto, who integrated Berkeley Institute, Green House, Class of ‘68 or ‘69. (If you remember the 60s, you weren’t there!) I went back to Toronto with Nell, my black Bermudian wife of 40 years, in 1971. We returned with our two sons, Aaron and Andrew, to lay Nell’s mother, Eldine Smith to rest, on the day before Oscar’s incident. Perhaps Oscar’s great-grandmother’s lifelong strict and loving care of children, contributed to the miracle of Oscar being spared a watery grave. Thank you Bermuda, and God bless you all. We may be away, but you know where our heartbeats get their rhythm!ALAN CAVONToronto