Answered Question

As I step out of the B&B in Port Henry I can’t get over the colors, the vibrant greens with splashes of gold and rust fill the countryside. As a life long Arizonan I’m use to more muted shades of greens, beiges and browns, so this is a treat for me. Standing on the wrap around porch, I breathe in the scents of the trees and plants. And of course the smells that roll off Lake Champlain. It is beautiful here, and so vast, this is the reason I came, to see this beautiful lake and to see if I can finally unravel the questions I have.

I walk down the board walk and visit the quaint town of Port Henry, it’s Labor Day weekend. So the town is filled with tourists. I duck into a little country store called Champs. I smile at all the Champ paraphernalia; they have everything from huge stuffed Champ figures, coffee mugs shaped like Champ, to Champ key chains. If you don’t already know Champ is the U.S. version of the Lock Ness Monster. He was first spotted in 1609; the next reported sighting to hit the papers was in 1819. In 1873 a railroad crew reported seeing an enormous serpent, with bright silvery scales and since then there has been hundreds of sighting. In 1977 Sandra Mansi took a photograph of Champ while on vacation and so his popularity exploded.

I’m enchanted with all the Champ items, so I buy some stuffed animals, necklaces, and rubber figures of Champ for my grandchildren and for myself I buy a sweater with Champ embroidered on it, a book about their local legend and a thermos with a 3-D Champ embossed on it. I walk out of the store and the streets are packed, everyone is yelling for the Mutton Hollow Parade to begin. I watch for a while then head back to the B&B where I am staying. The only stop I make is at a cute little restaurant to have my thermos filled with hot chocolate. When I get to the B&B, I put my souvenirs away, put on my sweater, grab the book, a lounge chair and my thermos and head down to the beach.

It’s quiet here, as it’s a private beach and most of the tourists are at the festivities. But this is exactly where I wish to be. I sit down facing the lake, the waves are gently rolling with the light breeze, birds dip under the surface looking for a quick snack and a few boats glide through the water in the distance. It’s so peaceful and calming. But I need to stay alert, if I’m going to get the answers to my questions.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” I look up to see a gentlemen pointing to the sand about a foot from where I’m sitting.

“No, it’s all free.” I chuckle, I watch him as he sets his chair up. He sets a picnic basket between our two chairs and takes a seat. He’s a ruggedly handsome fellow. He reminds me of a lumberjack with his red and black flannel shirt and jeans. He has pale blue eyes and a scruffy beard. I noticed how his eyes twinkled when he smiled, then embarrassed I jerk my eyes back to the lake when I realize he was smiling because I was staring at him. 

“Hi, I’m Wade.” He says extending his hand.

Shyly I grasp his hand. “Kit. I mean my name is Kit.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He smiles again.

“Thanks, same to you.”

“First time in Port Henry?” He asks.

“Yes, it is, It’s beautiful. Do you live here?”

“I do, I own the B&B, your staying at.”

“Oh! Lucky you, to be able to walk out of your home to this everyday.”

“It is a blessing indeed, my family has been here since the first settlement was established.”

“Wow! That is amazing, I was born and raised in Arizona, and I’ve been there all my life. But the rest of my relatives come from all corners of the U.S. and beyond.”

“So are you a world traveler, then?”

I laugh out loud, “No, I’m a homebody, I don’t usually like to travel.”

“So then what brought you to Port Henry?”

“Something from my past, I want to learn about the area and of course there is Champ.”

“Ahh Champ, I didn’t take you as one of those crypto zoology types.”

“I'm really not, I just have some questions I’d like answered.”

“Must be some important questions to bring you here from Arizona.” He says and I can see the curiosity in his eyes, but I just smile at him and then look back out into the lake. “Well if you’d like I can give you some of the local history of the town.”

“I’d love that.” I reply.

“First things first though, I brought some snacks and pastries from our kitchens.” He makes up a plate for both of us.

He hands me a plate, it’s filled with crackers, cheeses, fruit and pastries. Then he hands me a glass of chilled wine.

“You’ve thought of everything!” I exclaim.

He smiles as he settles into his chair with his food balanced in his lap...

“So,” he begins “Port Henry originally was a tract of land set aside by the British Crown for the veterans of the Seven Years War. It was also called the French and Indian war and Guerro de le Conquete by the Canadians, which means the War of Conquest. It was a war between the French and British colonists. It started with a dispute over control of the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. The British colonists outnumbered the French by more than 15 to 1 but, the Wabanaki Confederacy; which was a collection of tribes, joined the French. The member tribes were; the Abenaki, Mi’kmaq, the Algonquin, Lenape, Ojibawa, Ottawa, Shawnee and Wyandot.  The French still lost and the British took control of the area but of course when the Revolutionary War ended, it all ended up in the control of the United States.”

“That is fascinating, so after the war your family settled here?”

“Actually, my Great, great, great, grandpap was a fur trapper, he was here before the war. He fought on the side of the French and even married an Ojibawa maiden. He figured since he had been here from the beginning he wasn’t going anywhere. The first settlement was built around his property.”

“If you don’t have a written history of your family, you should write one. History is a treasure that should be cherished.”

He chuckled, “Well that would be a great idea, but I don’t have the patience or the talent to write out a story.”

“I do, I mean I love to write, maybe I could do it for you.” I shyly offer. Wow! Where did that come from, I’m not usually an outgoing or talkative person. But I feel comfortable with Wade; he is so easy to talk to.

“Sure we can work out the details tomorrow, if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition.”

“I’d be honored.” I tell him. I sit quietly watching the lake and nibbling on my treats. “So do you know any history on Champ?” I ask breaking the silence.

“You mean myths?”

“You don’t believe in Champ.”

He sighs, “My family has lived on this lake for over 235 years, and we’ve never seen it.”

“Oh!” Disappointment tinges my reply. I look out over the lake, searching it for answers, that now I don’t believe I’ll ever find.

“You seem disappointed, why is this legend so important?”

I debate with myself, if I tell him he’ll think I’m nuts. Oh well, here goes nothing. 

“Let me tell you a story, from almost 56 years ago.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“In the early 60’s a young man was stationed at Plattsburgh Air Force Base, his pregnant wife and his 18 month old daughter came to New York to be with him. He worked in the silos. It was during the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Tensions ran high during this time. His wife didn’t care much for Plattsburgh, it was way to cold for her during the winters and the summers were too humid. But one day toward the end of summer, the temperature seemed perfect. They lived in base apartments on the shores of the lake, so they decided that they were going to have a picnic and spend the day on the beach.  Their daughter being rambunctious, was getting into everything in her excitement. So the young man scooped up his daughter and went down to the shore, his wife was going to finish preparing things in peace then follow them down. The young man and his daughter sat on the sand, making castles and burying their toes.” 

Wade studies the wistful expression on your face as you tell the story. 

“Soon a friend of the young man's walks up, the young man stands and they have a discussion about the tensions with Vietnam and get into a debate regarding the possibility of war. His daughter doesn’t pay attention, of course shes only 18 months old.” I laugh to myself and continue the story.

“The daughter giggles and sings herself a little song that only she understands, she is content playing in the sand. She hears a cooing sound and looks up to her father. He’s still talking with his friend so it wasn’t him. She continues to play in the sand when she hears the sound again. She wobbly gets to her feet and then toddles after the magical sound.” 

“Her mother comes down to the beach, struggling with the picnic basket. The young man sees her and runs to help.

“Roy, where is the baby?”

“Right over by the dune, playing in the sand.”

“Where Roy! I don’t see her.” His wife starts to panic. The young man runs to where the baby had been, yelling her name with every step. People on the beach hear the panicked parents and join in the search. After a few minutes the young man looks toward the lake. Terror rips at his gut, did his daughter drown because of a moments inattention. But as he looks at the lake, the sun shines off a little golden head. It’s the baby! But she’s is probably a quarter of a mile out. He barely can see the bobbing head as he races into the lake. He screams her name as he struggles to run through the waves, as the water deepens he starts swimming. His daughter keeps bopping in the distance, moving farther out. As he draws close he unbelievably hears her giggles, relief floods him, she’s alive. He pushes himself harder to get to her, finally he gets close enough to grab a hold of her, he cradles her to his chest as he treads the water. Slowly he swims back to shore with one arm wrapped securely around the baby. God has certainly blessed them with a miracle. Once near the shore his wife runs to them and takes her daughter in her arms. People on the beach come over and congratulate them on their good fortune. They hear the word Miracle spoke by many. Once home they exam their daughter, she laughs and grabs at their faces. They marvel that her hair is barely wet. They realize it is a miracle, indeed that she’s safe and unharmed. How did she get out so far? How did she never submerge? How did she stay afloat out in the deep water? They had no explanation, it was a miracle and that’s all the needed to know.”

*****************************************************************

When I finish, I stare at the lake again, silently begging for answers.

“Was that a true story?”

“Yes it is.”

“So how do you think the baby survived?”

“I believe God was watching out for her without a doubt.”

Wade stared at me in confusion, “What does the story have to do with Champ?”

“You know that God used a whale to teach Jonah, he used frogs, locust and flies during the plagues of Egypt, he gave speech to a donkey so he could communicate with Balaam and he had ravens feed Elijah.”

“And?”

“I think he used Champ to save that baby?” I whisper staring at my feet, he’s silent for too long so I glance at him to see if he’s laughing.

“But Wade wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t even looking at me; he was staring in open mouthed shock in the direction of the lake. 

“Wade! Are you alright?” I get up and kneel in front of him; he says nothing but continues to stare at the lake. I slowly turn around, a creature that looks exactly like a plesiosaur glides toward the shore. I stand and walk toward the water as the creature comes forward; I walk out till the water laps at my knees. The creature lowers its head, I extend my hand and it pushes it’s snout into my palm.

“Hello old friend, it’s so good to see you again.”