I am not a native born Philadelphian, but one of the many New Yorkers who have moved to the city, though I do like to claim credit for being first, long before Philadelphia became the 6th Borough, long before Brooklyn emptied out into Northern Liberties and Fishtown.
As a consequence of my migrant status, I aggressively sought out information on my new city, even buying a travel guide to the place, so that I could learn all about my new home. You see, my younger sister and I both attended school in and around Boston, I at Harvard in Cambridge, and she at Boston University in Boston proper. I always regretted that I never quite owned the city of Boston the way my little sister did.
I was not going to make the same mistake with Philadelphia, even if I only stayed the two years I had originally planned to stay here. 23 years later, and I own this city. Despite that, there is still more to learn and room for new experiences, and I often speak of drilling deep into Philadelphia to see what lies beneath, a statement with new resonance after a recent incident…
One of the things that the locals told me when I started my life here was that the Schuylkill Expressway, Route 76, is called the “Sure Kill”. It is not a designation I’ve heard lately, but it rings true, from the death of schedules that occurs in traffic jams to the much more tragic deaths of people that occur there, as the two lane highway leaves little room for error, and people drive rather impatiently, the American way. One thing is certain, this road is seldom an Express way to anywhere, except frustration.
Of course, the Schuylkill Expressway has that name because it runs alongside the Schuylkill River, Philadelphia’s interior river, much like the Thames in London, except dirtier. Another thing I learned after I moved to Philadelphia was that the Schuylkill was a famous dumping ground for the bodies of organized crime victims, and sadly, bodies still wash up on its banks throughout the city, despite the general improvements to life in our City of Sibling Love.
This increased safety and stability is, in part, because of the development along the Schuylkill. No longer the bleak, grey railroad yard where Rocky Balboa famously ran on his way to the Art Museum steps, it is now a charming overwater park and running trail.
And running is the name of the hip game. Since moving from my boring, original Northeast Philly neighborhood to West Philly… like oh so many New Yorkers.. I have begun running a nice long loop on both banks of the Schuylkill River. It an 8 Mile loop, though much more gentrified than what exists inside 8 Mile Road in Detroit. I have the Samsung Health app on my phone and a Fitbit on my wrist, so onlookers can see that I am very serious about my running.. Even though I barely do it as I used to do it, and have experienced a sharp decline in my stamina over the past two years. I even have one of those phone wallet cases to protect my phone in case I drop it as well as to keep my IDs, my plastic, on me. The latter are in case I drop myself from pushing too hard, as I have been known to do.
As the temperatures warmed up I, of course, began running much more, and trying to regain everything I had lost. This means I push myself hard, though I depend upon a friend for motivation, a much slower, even for me, friend.
This friend and I run a few miles from the Falls Bridge down towards the museum and back, not the same loop I had made myself Facebook-famous for running (well Facebook-famous among my friends). It is much shorter, 4 or 5 miles tops, and at gentle intervals.
I had been trying to push myself harder on that one day when the temperatures climbed above 60 for the first time on a sunny day in 2021, and I told my friend that I was going to “run it out” at the end, and meet her at the parking lot. There is a small parking lot on Kelly Drive, East side of the river, a notoriously cramped one, but nonetheless useful. So, I took off, briefly considered turning on my Samsung Running App or activating my Fitbit, but decided just to run hard to the end and not worry about my time. It was a bit more than a mile that I ran, and hard, for me. I don’t have the data, because I didn’t “do the things” as it were, to track it, but I figured I would have been disappointed with the results anyway. Either way I hoofed it out to the parking lot and arrived panting hard. I decided to go down by the Schuylkill River. Just north of the Falls Bridge, the river bank is still natural, so it is a sort of beach, albeit with dirty brown sand. One New Year’s Day I had seen a Bald Eagle up a tree on that bank, so I figured I’d relax and watch the ducks, or geese, or whatever was there while I waited for my friend to catch up and finish her run.
As I walked down to the river, I noticed the river was muddy, but the sun was reflecting the opposite bank beautifully. As I got lost in my view of the reflected opposite bank, lost in the reflection like some modern day Narcissus without the self-love (maybe even a bit of self-loathing at my diminished stamina), the muddy ground gave way, and I stumbled.
The phone case wallet is a bit old, and wasn’t holding the cards very snuggly. I discovered this as all of the cards flew out of my wallet, forward, and landed in the river..
I immediately lunged for them and discovered the whole bank was soft, as I lost my footing and tumbled completely into the river.. I managed to snatch a couple of cards floating on the surface, but a few began to sink, as my clumsy fall began stirring up the bank and muddying the water further. I looked for the cards and saw one at my feet and reached for it, but could not reach it; I had to move in deeper.. Although the bank of the river is shallow at that point, the riverbed is not, and before I knew it I was shoulder deep in the Schuylkill River, desperately grabbing at the card buried straight up in the bank in front of me. I snatched it out, and then realized that I had my phone in my other hand, dipping in and out of the river. The Fitbit was on my wrist, also dipping in and out of the water. Basically, I had several hundred dollars worth of electronics getting as water logged as my soaking sneakers, shorts and shirt already were.
I scrambled up on to the bank, which was not easy since the mud was soft, and tossed my phone, Fitbit, and the cards up on the bank. They were all covered in mud. I knew there were more cards in there, which meant that I would need to stay in there.. Or better yet, climb out and wait for the water to clear up so I could see better.
I struggled out of the river and sat on the bank observing my now-red, ice cold hands.. I then realized that I was sitting with my sneakered feet in the river.. Dumb… I took the sneakers and socks off and put them with my muddy pile of electronics and began my vigil. A friendly kayaker came over to inquire, so I explained my dilemma. He told me what I already knew, that the water was very cold, and I continued my vigil. The water did settle and I was still very cold, despite the 60-something degree temperatures. As I looked into the clearing water, I was heartened to notice the flow of the river was slow, so hopefully nothing had flowed down river, though I kept my eyes down river too.
I noticed a card stuck in the bottom of the river, right where the water dropped down steeply. I resolved to get it, because it might be a credit card. I didn’t remember exactly which cards were in my wallet case, after all, because such details usually merit little scrutiny.
I reentered the frigid water and positioned myself above the errant card, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to open my eyes in the water, or even see if I did open them. After all, this was the Schuylkill River, the drain of a dozen industrial towns like Norristown, Pottstown, and Reading. I saw the card below me, grabbed my breath and dove down to the bottom of the river, some 7 feet down.. I opened my eyes and was pleasantly surprised that I could see through the murk to the bottom. I thought of the ducks and geese who live on river surface, and the poop they must frequently deposit in it, as I reached my hand towards the white card sticking up from the bottom. I was able to snatch it, and then I swam to the surface and to the bank, crawling up on the bank to see my prize… a used up Aldi gift card…
I later learned that water was only 41 degrees, as opposed to the 62 degree air.. Yeah.. water warms up much more slowly than the air.. I mean, yeah.. I know this (most of us do), but had never had to experience that reality. I went into that chilly water three times, and it felt very much like the 41 degrees it was reported to have been.
To this day, I am not sure if I lost a credit card that I have yet to remember, or if my multiple polar bear plunges were successful. The chill lasted two weeks, and the phone and Fitbit dried out quite well. It was a piece of good luck on top of the bad luck.
In the days that passed I examined myself for evidence of superpowers, tumors, Schuylkill blindness, etc. so far so good. I did not see the famous three-eyed Simpsons fish either. My friend had arrived during all this and panicked when she couldn’t find me. Ironically, she was worried that I had drowned in the Schuylkill and would wash up as one of those infamous bodies down river.. She was partially right, the good partial, as my body did emerge from the Schuylkill- very much alive.. Philadelphia continues to surprise, and bodies CAN make their way out of the river on their own.
After reading this story to friends, Chad Frame awesome suggested a funnier ending line: And I turned to my Fitbit and it said “Great swim/ Another lap?” Thank you, Chad for bringing additional levity!
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