I was sitting in the rear of a small flat boat in which my brother Chris, my father, and several other people were also riding. We were on Symmes Creek, in front of the Gallia County Farmhouse, and at first it seemed that we were flying; but finally it was clear that we were floating on the surface of the creek. As we floated along, I pointed out some large snakes in the creek; one black snake was almost two meters long.

Suddenly I noticed the boat was filling with water and was starting to sink. As I slipped over the edge of the boat into the water, my father and the other men did the same. I was concerned about the snakes, but I had no other choice but to go into the water. When I saw Chris also fall over the side into the water, I pulled myself around to him. I held his head above the water as we headed toward the shore.

***

I was standing on the front porch of the Farmhouse and my father was sitting in a chair near me. As we looked at Symmes Creek down in front of us, I suddenly heard the sound of a large engine. Looking across the creek to the road on the other side, I could see a large truck pulling a huge house boat down into the field on the other side of the creek. The truck pulled the boat to the creek and the boat was allowed to slide into the creek. The huge boat almost took up the whole creek. It was even taller than the bridge, and as the boat began moving toward the bridge, it looked as if the boat would ram into the bridge. But the boat stopped just before reaching the bridge.

I turned to my father and asked him if he had given anyone permission to put the boat in the creek; he said he hadn't. He didn't seem concerned. I asked him if I could go down and stop the men, and he said I could.

I walked down to the edge of the creek and found two men standing there. I hollered at them, but they couldn't hear me, and I had to walk right up to them. I stood in front of one man and I began talking. As I spoke, I poked him in the chest with both my index fingers. I asked him what he thought he was doing and told him he would have to get the boat out of there. I was upset that the men had come in there without any permission. Suddenly, as I was poking the man, he fell backwards into the creek.

I paid no more attention to the man, and instead, I turned my attention to a tractor being used to pull the boat. One man was driving the tractor, while another man was sitting on the side of the tractor. Suddenly the man sitting on the side of the tractor fell off, and the tractor backed up over him. The other man standing next to me said they would still have to continue with work even if the man under the tractor was killed. Nevertheless we both jumped down to where the man had been run over. We found him buried in mud and water. He was wearing a white tee shirt and was probably about 40 years old. He was thin and had black hair.

We pulled him up on the bank and laid him on his back. I pressed his chest to see if any water would come out. When a little water came out, I said, "Can you hear me?"

I thought he was dead and was I surprised when he said he was all right. But obviously he wasn't all right – the wheel of the tractor had run over him. I asked the others if they had any rope. I thought we could tie the rope around him and pull him out of there.

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