An Old Fashioned Drowning

The past few years, dozens of intrepid folks (ambulatory but with what I suspect are less than healthy mental faculties) rush into the water in the channel between East and West Caroga Lakes for the Polar Plunge on Jan. 1. They do this intentionally and with malice of forethought. I witness this event each year. Each year, even though I have Nordic genes and have been accused of preferring a roll in the snow to lying on a hot beach, I still marvel at the people voluntarily rushing into the ice water with screams of supposed delight and happiness. This particular year, the crazy ice water event connected to something sinister, and that's where it got sad, but interesting. Just the kind of thing they'd call me in on... and that's what they did.