Christmas Eve Drama

  After a week of frigid temperatures froze the Charles River and discouraged outdoor social gatherings, an unexpectedly warm Christmas Eve afternoon enabled six Esplanade friends to gather on an eighth-floor terrace overlooking the river, toasting  the Yule with Prosecco.  The festive mood was suddenly broken when Jane Hilburt-Davis spotted a small white dog running on the thinning river ice. We all rushed to the railing. We saw a family on the wooden dock at the edge of the river near the east end of the Esplanade. Shockingly, one of them, a teenage girl, repeatedly threw a stick far out on the ice for the dog to retrieve.  It was so obviously dangerous!  Further out, the ice had already yielded to open water.    And then, just as we had feared, the dog broke through the ice and into a dark circle of near-freezing water. Her attempts to pull herself out the water failed, again and again.  Her  front paws, pushing down on the ice to try to raise her body up, would break away the edge of the ice, extending the hole and plunging the dog completely back in, 25 yards from the shore. 

        One of us. Jane Hilbert-Davis, called 911 to plead for help.  More people gathered at the edge of the river, rooting for the dog, even as her desperate but ultimately futile efforts to pull herself up left her increasingly exhausted. It seemed inevitable that the dog would drown. It was dreadful to watch.  After what seemed like an eternity, a police cruiser arrived on Cambridge Parkway and an officer went down to the dock. But what could he do?   From the Esplanade, German Holguin rushed out, carrying a life preserver attached to a long rope. Descending onto the dock, he hurled the life preserver out, but it stopped far short of the tiring dog, whose Sisyphean efforts were becoming less and less frequent. 

        But suddenly, like the blast of a bugle and cavalry charge at the end of a 1940s movie, a police boat miraculously appeared from beyond the Science Museum. It charged through the thin ice toward the struggling dog, then slowed as it approached her. With one officer at the wheel, another leaned far over the prow, extending his arm until he could grasp the dog’s collar. To the cheers of the crowd on the shore, and our little gathering on the terrace, the officer lifted the dog up and into the boat. It then then pulled up to the dock, and dog was lowered onto it.  Her belly was scraped raw by edge of the ice but safe and seemingly sound, shaking itself and spraying icy water on its foolish but grateful owners. Up on the terrace, we had even more to celebrate.

Bob Kagan

Susan’s version

It all began in the late afternoon of this unexpectedly warm Christmas Eve.  Six friends were gathered on the eighth-floor terrace overlooking the Charles River, happily toasting the season with Prosecco.  The mood was suddenly interrupted when Jane Hilburt-Davis spotted a brown speck on the icy river.  We sped to the railing to see a dog sliding across the ice to retrieve a stick thrown out on the ice by a young girl for her pet to retrieve.  Realizing that a disaster was in the making, Jane called 911 to plead for help. As expected, the dog fell through the thawing ice and began her valiant struggle to return to shore.  With each stroke she placed a paw on the ice ahead of her to gain traction, but the melting ice gave way, and she became increasingly desperate.  After what seemed like an eternity, a police cruiser arrived at the scene, and the officer emerged to survey the situation as the drama increased.  Shortly thereafter, a miracle occurred – from the direction of the Science Museum a police vessel came speeding through the ice, pulled up alongside the seemingly grateful animal – a rescue completed and a growing crowd breathing a sigh of relief.

Susan Barron