It was last August. We were on vacation, having driven from our home in Washington, DC, to New Hampshire. We wouldn't see friends — it would be just me, my husband, and our two kids out for a nice week away. We had walked about half a mile to a popular place called Diana's Baths, near the town of North Conway, where the water falls off a series of flat large rocks. The baths were full of families, so we made our way to one of the upper levels of rock to keep our distance (距离).
Both where we sat and down below, the water fell into small pools, where kids in swimsuits were playing. I watched as some younger parents nervously asked their toddlers (学步的小孩) to keep away from the rocks' edges (边缘), feeling thankful that our kids, at six and eight, knew how to be careful. But I was still worried as I saw my two boys jump between the rocks.
"No running," I said again and again. "Stay away from all those edges."
But I soon relaxed, and we were all having fun, playing in the pools. My kids were laughing as my husband put his head under the running water. Then, seconds later, every fear I'd ever had rose to the surface.
I turned and saw my son Wyatt sitting down between two rocks in a fast-moving stream (小溪). I shouted at him to get out. He shouted back something that I couldn't hear, and then he disappeared over the edge.
My husband was already running down the rocks. I finally saw that Wyatt was sitting up — he was alive. My biggest fear was erased. As I held my younger son, Jed, close, I heard a woman shout. "That child just went over the waterfall! He fell on his back, straight onto the rocks."
It was about 12 feet from the top of the waterfall to the pool below.
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While everyone else looked on from a distance, too afraid to help, this woman didn't hesitate.
The rescue team came.