Carl Jeter had walked out on the deck of his house to survey the flood waters of the Guadalupe River—and to be certain the level was no longer rising. His home had escaped the wrath of the river which had risen 26 feet in 45 minutes, taking 137 lives and causing untold millions of dollars in property damage. As he stood staring down at the debris rushing past him, he heard a faint cry. At first, he believed it was coming from the water; it seemed to be moving and his eyes couldn’t pinpoint the source—until he looked up and saw Devyn Smith clinging to a tree branch on the opposite bank.
Devyn and five other family members had pitched their tents on the banks of the Guadalupe the night before, looking forward to a fun-filled weekend at the campground in Kerrville. That fun weekend quickly became an unbelievable nightmare as the torrential rains pushed the river from its bed, allowing it to devour everything in its path. As she tried to escape, Devyn had been swept away by the current and carried 15 miles from the campground before she finally managed to snag a tree limb. Pulling herself to safety, she waited . . . and watched. When she saw Carl walk out onto his deck, she began to scream. And when he finally found her, he called back “I hear you! I see you!” Emergency personnel were summoned, and Devyn was rescued.
Now, in the interest of full transparency, I will tell you I can’t find a single source that credits those exact words to Carl Jeter, other than a story on Facebook that probably took a bit of poetic license in the telling . . . ‘cause we all know how Facebook is. What I did find was an interview with Jeter and Devyn’s uncle in which Jeter recounted his side of the experience. Once he saw her, he called out “Hey! I see you, I’ve spotted you! We’re gonna get you help. Hang on! We’re gonna get you outta this!”
Whatever Carl Jeter actually said, I cannot imagine the relief Devyn Smith must have felt when she knew she had been seen and heard. And isn’t that something we all want? To be seen and heard?
It’s hard when Life is swirling all around us and we’re caught up in its currents. It’s hard to take our eyes off the rushing water and look up to see who’s crying out for help. Most of the time, it isn’t as obvious as Devyn’s pleas. More often than not, the people we meet are struggling in silence. They aren’t going to scream for our attention. They aren’t going to give voice to their pain. That’s why, in my humble opinion (what is it they say, that and a dollar will get you a cup of coffee? Except it’s gonna take way more than a dollar these days . . .), we need to be saying those words to everyone we meet, “I hear you. I see you.” Maybe it’s just a smile and a hello or a few minutes spent in casual conversation. Maybe it’s a phone call just to check in when you know they’re struggling to keep their head above water. Maybe that’s all it takes to let someone know we see them and we hear them. And we want them to hang on.
I’m sure it probably seems like I’ve addressed this topic a great deal lately, but it also seems that more and more people are choosing what they believe is the path of least resistance when Life becomes too much for them. And sadly, we don’t always know who might be next because they hide their pain so well. Please, let everyone you come in contact with know they matter—that they’re important. Say it. Show it. Help them to feel it. It might only take a minute, but you never know who you might be rescuing from the flood waters.
About the author: Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth-generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926 and has worked with Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 45 years. Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.
