A day to remember
The year is 1944, World War Two is still raging and I was living with my parents and sister in Garden City, New York. My father was building Klystron tubes that made RADAR possible. Gas rationing cards were required to buy only so much gas that your card would allow. For our week-long summer vacation, my folks had chosen Lake George in the northern part of the state. I was 9 years old and really excited about this camping trip because there were many islands in the lake. At that time you could just pick an island and pitch your tent. I recollect that we arrived on a Saturday. We rented a wooden rowboat with a five-horsepower outboard motor. It didn’t take long to have everything in the boat but we had also brought our dog by the name of Ditto. My sister sat in the front of our boat, mom and I sat in the middle board seat and my dad sat in the back keeping a well-worn outboard motor running. Lake George to my 9-year-old eyes looked as big as an ocean. We were perhaps a mile out in the lake and for whatever reason nobody was watching a Chris Craft speedboat coming in our direction and the people in the speedboat weren’t watching either. There was a loud bang as the speedboat knocked off the front of our boat. My sister was lucky that she wasn’t a foot further forward or it might have done her some real bone-breaking damage. As I was sitting facing my dad when the crash occurred I watched the outboard motor fly maybe 5 or 6 feet in the air then hit the water and submerge to the bottom of Lake George.
Jack Varian at Lake George 1944
We were a family where everybody knew how to swim. We all swam to the sides and as my eyes watched the speedboat turn sharply away I saw a hole In it’s side that a basketball would fit through. My mother who never cussed said “Come back here, you son of a bitch!” But to no avail as the driver was afraid his boat would sink. We’re all accounted for. Ditto was a few yards from me with a long chain hooked to his collar that was causing him to paw frantically. I swam over to him with paws going in every direction but I was able to unhook the chain and let it drop to the bottom. Ditto was also a good swimmer. As he approached the boat, my dad and mom grabbed him and pushed us into the boat. I can’t remember exactly how long we waited for help, maybe a half hour. Our rescue boat was big enough to take whatever was still floating and to also tow our rowboat to the dock where we had left an hour before.
Sigurd Varian, Jack’s dad, at Lake George in 1946
Four Varians and a soggy English sheepdog named Ditto looked a little forlorn. My mother looked around to see if there were any cuts or bruises. Then I asked Dad what were we going to do? His instant reply I will always remember “We’re going camping.” So that afternoon the boat owner lent my dad his car. Off we went to I believe Saint George just a couple of miles away. Mom bought groceries and some utensils while Dad and I bought a sleeping bag and some fishing gear. We rented a hotel room for the night. After breakfast at the local restaurant, most of the patrons knew that we were the family that had been hit by a speedboat and gave us congratulations all around for our pluck to still be going camping. We left the dock in another rowboat, a littermate to the last one. This time our trip was uneventful and by late morning we had located an empty island and in no time my mom had our salvaged wet sleeping bags drying on a couple of big rocks. The next morning just after breakfast another Chris Craft speedboat pulled up close to shore and a middle-aged man jumped into shallow water and walked over to my dad and introduced himself. Turns out his son was the one who hit us and he wanted to apologize for his son's carelessness. He said, “To make amends, how about I take you all for a day of seeing beautiful Lake George and learning how to water ski?” It was a wonderful day of seeing the lake but now it was time to learn how to water ski. Lorna went first and after a few belly flops, she was up and skiing. I was a little nervous at first but did not want to be outdone by my sister. I also did a few belly flops before I was successful. What fun, I skied enough until I felt like my arms were going to fall off. My dad thanked him for a wonderful day and I watched as they parted with a handshake. He turned out to be the president of a very big insurance company.
Jack’s Sister, Lorna Varian, at Lake George 1944
The third day a couple of my parents' friends arrived to spend the rest of our vacation on our island. They all wanted to know about the accident. As my dad told all about what happened and about the nice man who spent the day with us sightseeing and teaching us to water ski. I learned another lesson on that trip about being decent. One of my dad's friends asked my dad if he was going to sue him. My dad’s reply was, “Absolutely not.” Nobody was hurt and our new friend had paid the cost of groceries and a sleeping bag and we all had a great day. As our vacation ended I felt a little older and appreciated my parents for hanging together and showing me about not quitting and being positive parents.
See Ya,
Jack