LASTING IMPRESSION
Dad’s invention was ice fun. Until it wasn’t.
Riding the ice into danger
Our family had so much fun skating on the river that Dad decided to give the old airboat a winter makeover. Down in his workshop, our dad, Bob Sprankle, sawed, pounded and painted, and fired and bent steel bologna hooks into skate runners for the boat. Our mom, Marian, sewed a canvas sail that was so heavy it took several of my uncles and cousins to hoist it up the mast.
One icy January day in 1960, we hauled the iceboat to Glendale Lake. The ice was deep green, buffed smooth by the wind. Dad and Uncle Ab pushed the contraption onto the lake, and Mom was in charge of the brand-new 8 mm movie camera.
Uncle Ab steered the skate at the front, while Dad worked the two on the sides and manned the sail. My younger sister, Pammie,
5, and I clung to the outriggers.
A breeze kissed the sail and it bellowed.
The boat eased forward and the relatives watching cheered. Oh, my goodness, it was fun! The wind picked up and we skimmed faster and faster across the ice. Dad was thrilled—one of his creations finally worked. The crowd ran along the shore, waving and shouting. We laughed and waved back.
Now we were going so fast my eyes stung and my cheeks burned. I glanced at Dad and his face was beet red. Uncle Ab shouted, “Stop this thing—we’re headed for the dam!”
“Turn the skate!” Dad yelled.
“I can’t. It’s stuck. Pull the brake!” Uncle Ab shouted.
“There is no brake!” Dad’s voice was shrill. “I forgot to build one!”
Pammie and I clung to our perches; if we let go now, we’d surely be angels.
“The dam, the dam!” Uncle Ab screamed. “Drop the sail!”
“It’s knotted,” Dad yelled.
Uncle Ab ferreted in his pocket for a knife. Out flew his keys, cigarettes and lighter. Finally, he tossed the knife to Dad, who sawed the rope, bringing the sail crashing down the mast. The boat slid to a stop inches from the dam.
My mom missed her calling by not working for the TV news, because she caught all of it on camera.
Every now and then we set up the old film projector and watch the home movie. We cheer when the iceboat begins its glide, we gasp when it soars away, and we sigh with relief when it stops just short of disaster.