A canoe trip

...and the Iowa Legislature

Jul 13, 2023

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I was 11 on August 8, 1962, handling the bow of a canoe with another YWCA camper and our counselor in the stern. We were reaching the end of our float, and the plan was to grab onto a branch overhanging the bank of the Des Moines River and pull ourselves to shore.

A pack of canoes ahead caused a jam, and we kids were no match for the current from the dam just feet away.

I remember the canoe swinging around, causing our boat to head twirling backward toward the dam, and the feeling of the back of the canoe falling over the spillway as my end tipped up in teeter-totter style. The rushing waters swamped the boat, pushing me down, down, down. Nature's undertow was an unfamiliar, powerful sensation. The sight of our lunch provisions swirling above me is unforgettable.

I recall the foaming water and trying to pull myself to the surface with every ounce of muscle, going through the disaster as if in slow motion, detached in wonderment.

A newspaper clipping confirmed what I remembered. The page one story reported that the first man who tried to save me was trapped, and it took another to rescue us both.

The next memory was waking up lying on the ground, regurgitating water. I have no idea how long someone did mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. A crowd circled as the stranger worked to bring me to life.

I rarely think or talk about this incident. Still, it's been on my mind this week as I grapple with articulating my feelings about the Iowa Legislature's latest vote to take away a woman's freedom to choose whether or not to have an abortion. Children as young as 12 will be forced to give birth.

And, I remembered the feeling of the undertow, trapping and almost killing me.

Life is often a paradox. On that hot summer day in 1962, I boarded a silver metal canoe and learned to pull a paddle through the water. The water trail was an idyllic path in Boone County, where the river meandered through miles of Iowa countryside, a contrast for this city kid.

As beautiful as the day was, it was full of signs that could have been heeded and disaster averted. Sun-filled skies on a river do not ensure safety.

The underlying issue was an inexperienced crew navigating a strong river current, ill-equipped to grapple with unintended consequences -- like this GOP-controlled legislature.

Mature leaders know they must think ahead and practice situational awareness, constantly scanning the horizon for danger and weighing the potential for challenge.

Watching the legislature's actions this week reminds me of the aftermath of that canoe trip: forced birth will put women and girls in peril.

The state of Iowa is making national headlines and telling the country that it is not a safe place for women. The undertow is real.

High school students nationwide who once would consider many of our institutions of higher learning will not put Iowa on the list. We are now 'backward.'

Iowa will be a punch line for late-night comedians.

It is harder for businesses to recruit talent from out of state.

In addition to banning abortion, legislators are banning books in an era when almost everyone with a cell phone can access anything, including slop typed, without the benefit of a fact-checker, editor, or publisher.

There is much still to celebrate and adore about Iowa. We have innovators, dreamers, and doers here. As one who left for 20 years and returned, I am reminded that an individual can make a difference here by taking action. I still have hope.

The Iowa landscape is beautiful, just like that fateful August day. But the signs of impending disaster are all around us.

Women will die if they do not have the freedom to terminate a pregnancy.

Iowa businesses struggle to recruit employees to move here from out of state. Talent is the number one key to running a successful business, so some will relocate. This undercurrent is just below the surface, but it is real.

There is so much that is good and great about Iowa. It's not unlike that warm summer day on the Des Moines River before my near-death experience. I'm reminded of this on Sunday when the columns by my Iowa Writers' Collaborative colleagues are compiled. Beautiful stories are told while our challenges are exposed.

Do the folks steering the ship of state know how dangerous these waters are just around the bend and the depth of the consequences they impose by their decisions?

No.

For a comprehensive report on the actions of the Legislature this week, here is Laura Belin: