She Kept Her Feet on the Ledge: A Former Kennewick Woman Pulls Three Swimmers Out of the Palouse
Two girls and a young man went down in a hidden hole in the Palouse River, and one rescuer after another failed — until Mrs. George A. Fairchild waded in and hauled all three to shore.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Mrs. Geo. A. Fairchild, formerly of this city, by her courage and presence of mind, saved three young people from drowning last week near her home in Palouse. The story of the near tragedy is told by the Palouse Republic as follows:
Only by the narrowest margin did Miss Bess Couey, Miss Mary Breed and Ray Batey escape drowning in the Palouse River, about a mile above town, Wednesday evening. The lives of the three young people were saved by Mrs. Geo. A. Fairchild at the risk of her own life.
The young people, accompanied by Mrs. Fairchild and Mrs. Snyder, had gone up the river to swim. The water is approximately five feet deep where they went in, but near the middle of the stream there is a big hole considerably deeper, of which they did not know. Miss Couey found herself out of her depth in this hole and was unable to swim. After going under the water once, she called for help and Miss Breed swam out to her rescue, but, because of her struggles, was unable to bring her to shore. Ray Batey, who was standing on the shore, recognized their plight and swam out to them, but the girls were by this time so thoroughly frightened and exhausted that they clung to him and he was unable to aid them, and the three could not have escaped had not Mrs. Fairchild plunged into the water and by some happy chance been able to keep her feet on the ledge surrounding the deeper water, and by catching Miss Breed's hand towed the trio into shallow water.
“the three could not have escaped had not Mrs. Fairchild plunged into the water and by some happy chance been able to keep her feet on the ledge surrounding the deeper water”
A swimming hole a mile above town, no lifeguard, and a rescue that worked only because one woman happened to find a ledge with her feet — the river as summer playground and hazard in equal measure. Small-town papers like the Palouse Republic traded such stories freely, stitching Eastern Washington together long before the internet did. Today's drownings in the Columbia and Yakima still turn on the same two things: a hidden drop-off and whoever is closest to the water.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.