Searching

Adeep dark sadness has gripped this community and much of the County in the days since Sandy Rutherford failed to return home from an afternoon of fishing on West Lake. It is now more than a week since he pushed his Zodiac out into the lake on a late autumn Saturday afternoon. The boat has since been recovered, but, as of yet, no sign of Rutherford. A fact that makes this heartbreaking loss even harder to endure.

Every day since, dozens of friends, family and those profoundly shaken by this tragedy head out onto the lake or scour the shoreline looking for him. It is hard going. West Lake has dropped its pretense as a summer playground by this time of year. Relentless winds swirl ferociously off Lake Ontario in the fall whipping up high cold waves on the lesser lake. The lush wooded areas surrounding West Lake soon acquiesce to the ceaseless torrent and pitifully release their foliage to the breeze. West Lake assumes a more severe and drawn demeanor in October. The rich pageant of colour is drained—replaced by only various shades of grey.

On Saturday, the winds and waves proved too blustery and treacherous. The OPP advised folks to stay off the water. Undeterred, more than 40 folks left their boats on trailers and instead trekked the West Lake shoreline one more time—sifting through matted weeds, fallen trees with hidden branches just below the water’s surface, deep thick muck and a biting wind—determined to find their friend.

On Sunday dozens of boats were back on West Lake. The heavy winds had faded but the water was still roiling. Unsettled. Some searchers are equipped with sonar equipment. Others bring finely tuned instincts. Some worked in coordination with a larger group of searchers. Others were guided by their own compass

A pair of fearless paddlers miscalculated the waves on the lake on Sunday morning. Their wee canoe was soon overwhelmed and the paddlers had to be plucked from the cold water by nearby searchers.

Meanwhile, others have gathered weeklong at the Rutherford home in Wellington, offering comfort, support and compassion. It is something they need to do. That must be done.

Many search through prayer—either collectively with friends by our side—or alone, silently through long sleepless nights.

There is an overwhelming sense of helplessness that compounds this grief. Our natural reaction to unfathomable tragedy is to stop—to step away from the merry-go-round of everyday life and let it spin on without us for a while.

We need this time to process and comprehend dreadful loss. We need the time to consider consider how we might carry on. We need time to immerse ourselves in the memories of those we’ve lost. And we need time to remember how good our lives have been, and the gifts with which we have been blessed.

But in this circumstance, time is consumed by a search. There is a powerful need to bring Sandy home. As long as he remains missing, many in this community will struggle to move on.

So they head out onto the water. They peer into dark coves, beat through tightly woven reeds and ignore personal discomfort as cold wind nips at their fingers and icy water fills their boots.

Each of the searchers is surely haunted by what they may find, but compelled, despite their misgivings, to keep looking, driven by a burning need to bring him home.

Some look for answers. An explanation. Some look simply hoping to find peace.

Along the shore folks stop to gaze out into West Lake. For 10,000 years it has looked much like this in late October. But now the lake looks different. Serious. Detached. Cold. I expect it may never look the same again.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca