The thing I remember the most was the drone of the tires along the surface of the 401.

Nothing else. No radio. And certainly no chatter.

A day before, a noisy bunch of PECI grads crammed into a specially-rented mini bus. We were eager to get to the destination, throw off the day-to-day shackles of life and celebrate the end of the school year.

Less than 24 hours later, there were no words. No stories. No discussion about summer jobs or what post-secondary life might look like.

Those authentic and enthusiastic little conversations amongst young people that provide a momentary glimpse into the soul? Silenced.

My mind raced in perfect time with the wheels of the bus. What had just happened? What could I have done differently? I swam out to try and retrieve my fellow graduate Tanya Fox, who was struggling to keep up with the current in the Rouge River a little northeast of Hawkesbury. I wound up missing her grasp by mere inches.

And then, I nearly slipped away, sucked below the surface of a raging torrent. I popped up like a cork 50 metres down river amidst jagged rocks and roaring white water. Jamie Lawlor, Barkley Vanhecke and Jamie Lavender pulled me off the rock was I clinging to just off shore.

I should have been dead. Tanya was missing and some had a faint hope she would wander out of the west Quebec woods no worse for wear. Others had started to steel themselves for the news that was to come later that week.

What was waiting for us in the parking lot of the Prince Edward Community Centre when we arrived home to our families? Minus one passenger. One classmate. One friend whose spirit had been ripped away in an instant of horror? What was to be said? What could possibly be said? Who would say it?

The unique siren of the Prince Edward County Fire & Rescue truck, the one that pulls the emergency watercraft, is burned into my brain. I can differentiate its song from the OPP and an ambulance. Last week, when I heard it approach the Gazette office at 100 Main, I already knew what was happening. Alertly, as she always does, Karen Gyde popped from her perch to let me know what I already knew — the rescue boat was heading west. In a hurry.

I checked my social media messages. A source who keeps me apprised of chatter on the police and fire rescue band had the details.

“Call just came in for a water rescue at Outlet Beach. Haven’t heard any details yet. But you’re about to hear sirens if you’re in the office. Three-year-old unaccounted for. Last seen in the water.”

A pit the size of a softball had already developed in my stomach. “Come on God, after last week, you owe us one,” I muttered silently as I headed off to the scene.

By now, you know this one had a happy ending. The child was found and reunited with her parents. But while the crews and OPP were at Sandbanks, another call came in. Two males in their late teens or early 20’s went into the waves at Outlet and were missing. OPP were on scene and quarterbacked the search efforts. PEC Fire & Rescue crews assisted. A pair of volunteer first responders in rescue boats made strategic passes along the beach.

Eventually, one of the swimmers was located a few hundred yards down the shore. The current and the waves had carried both men well beyond the eyesight of their friends.

Their slightly bewildered look when they saw the rescue response made it clear they could swim and weren’t in any immediate danger.

But the fact of the matter is this. We are in the middle of what is already a tragic, high-alert summer in Prince Edward County. Three dead. A number of close calls. If there’s even a sniff of an emergency situation in our waters, you can bet every OPP and Fire & Rescue member available will rush to the scene, eager to avert another tragedy.

Not every drowning victim will be saved on beaches with lifeguards. We know that. But what lifeguards will do in every case is start search-and-save efforts sooner. While a frantic parent is trying to tell a 911 dispatcher where they are and what’s going on, a team lead has already relayed that information and first responders are already on the scene.

While inexperienced bystanders are running out into the water for uncoordinated searches, life guards have mustered, moved swimmers out of the water with three quick whistle blasts and started their grid search. Life guards will save the second required to turn a tragic call into a close one.

Another idea is for the province to subsidize rescue infrastructure near these high capacity beaches and swimming areas. For example, what’s stopping the Ministry of the Environment, Conservation and Parks from identifying the need here and collaborating with the County on a satellite Fire and Rescue building on Sandbanks property? I can think of a location near the park’s main entrance where a truck and a rescue boat are no more than a five-minute drive from East and West Lake and Lake Ontario. Perhaps some of the Municipal Accommodation Tax could staff it with First Responders trained in water rescue operations? For two months in the summer. July and August. Maybe throw in some Visit the County-sponsored multi language messaging in the park?

I want everyone coming to Prince Edward County for a swim to feel safe when they enter the water. And I want them all, no matter what language they speak, to know the waters are deadly when dangerous conditions like rip tides and undertows are present.

I want swimmers and their families to have more of a fighting chance should the worst case scenario suddenly occur.

And I especially want them to return home with their families, motoring down the 401 and dreaming about coming back. Because I’ve experienced the opposite. It’s a nightmare without end.