BFRO #4959: Nightime sighting at a Lake Milton marina

📍 Location

📝 Description

Lake Milton, Ohio: Summer 1972 About the time my siblings and I were entering that turbulent period known as our "teens", my family had the great good fortune of having moved into a house flanked on either side by a pair of brothers-in-law who proved not only to be good friends with one another, but very best of neighbors to our family as well. These two men, Mr. J. and Mr. R., had married a pair of sisters decades before and, having seen their own children off to raise families of their own, took a genuine interest in my family and we children in particular. At a time when myself and my siblings were finding it increasingly difficult to redefine our relationships with the adults who were our parents, Mr. J. and Mr. R. taught us that it was possible to be good friends with an adult. They provided a certain balance and perspective during a period when tensions within our family were almost excruciating and we found it hard to talk with our parents, proved by their behavior that we children were worthwhile people in our own rights, took a sincere interest in who we were and who we were becoming, and exemplified the true meaning of being neighbors and part of a larger community. These two men displayed a sincere interest in our various interests, in our developing values and judgments, and they shared their own with us; treating us with a respect that we had not yet earned, and giving us the opportunity to develop a respect for them (and by derivation, our parents), as well.They were, in short, a God-send to our family and their value to us, as people, cannot be overstated. One of the ways that Mr. R. shared his interest, was by involving us in boating. Mr. R. was a carpenter by trade and one of his most prized possessions was an absolutely beautiful, '50's vintage, wooden boat. During the winter, Mr. R. would have his "Anderson" up on blocks in his garage and there he would perform loving maintenance to the machine; replacing any pieces of her hull which might have been damaged by the previous summer's boating, fixing any loosened hardware, tuning up the boat's engine and varnishing her hull. Unlike some adults, who don't want 'some kid' to so much as touch one of their expensive toys, Mr. R. would allow us to participate in his repairs and refinishing; teaching us the skills required to work with wood, hand tools, and varnish. Even more important than providing a concrete display of the trust that he placed in us, he fostered in us a respect for other people and their property that was regrettably lacking in the majority of our peers. In addition, he rewarded our assistance by taking us 'out on the lake' with him, giving us the opportunity to learn to water ski and teaching us the importance (and the joys) of responsible boating. In the process, he taught us to rely on one another's judgment, since one cannot pilot a boat and watch a skier at the same time, and once he had managed to teach us to handle the boat safely, he allowed us to exercise our judgment by commanding the boat while he was skiing. In all respects, it was a wonderful arrangement. Myself and my siblings learned a great deal about ourselves and others, the rewards of work carefully and skillfully done, and the thrill of water sports and of piloting a well-maintained machine. For his part, Mr. R. found a great deal more opportunity to do what he loved and an eager group of youngsters who would accompany him whenever he wanted to head for the lake. From May to October, Mr. R. kept his boat docked at a small marina on Lake Milton, about a mile south of the dam and two miles east of the small town of Diamond, Ohio in Mahoning County. The marina was located on the western shore of the lake in an area surrounded by dense woodland punctuated by small farms and was accessed by a two-lane, tar and asphalt, road that followed the western shoreline. Once inside the marina, a gravel driveway allowed access to a number of permanent docks along the shoreline; doubling back past the parking lot of the bait shop at the south end of the marina and running north for a hundred yards or so along the western shore of the lake. This driveway was separated from the paved roadway by an embankment that rose from mere inches at the southern end of the marina to about ten feet in height near the northern end where Mr. R. moored his boat.The marina was set in a very sparsely populated area (in what we considered "the country"), at least twenty miles from any of the larger population centers, and was normally thought to be perfectly secure; despite the fact that the marina was completely unattended after sunset when the owner of the bait shop would lock up and go home. So, it came as a bit of a surprise when, one evening in late July, Mr. R. came to see my parents about borrowing their eldest son in order to catch whoever had taken to vandalizing the property. According to Mr. R., somebody, "probably local kids", had found themselves faced with summer boredom and had ta

🔍 Circumstances

Sleeping on a boat, hoping to catch 'vandals' who had damaged boats and property at the marina.

🌤️ Weather Conditions

Summer, 1972, mid to late August.

ℹ️ Additional Details

Summer, 1972, mid to late August.

🔗 Sources (1)

👥 Community Contributions

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