Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe - Bonus Episode: The Boy Who Went Over the Falls

Episode Date: August 16, 2024

In this bonus episode you’ll hear my conversation with Roger Woodward, the boy who went over the falls. You loved hearing his remarkable story in our Niagara Falls episode (back in October 2023) and wanted to hear more. Roger and I had a great time catching up and I learned so much more about that momentous day.  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

From the Apostrophe Podcast Network. Hello, I'm Jess Milton, and this is a bonus episode of Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe. Welcome to the show. Of all of the shows we did last season, season two, the one we got the most feedback on was the one about Niagara Falls. There was lots to love about that show. There was music by my pal Danny Michelle and a conversation between me and Danny where we talked about some of our favorite memories on tour. I loved your comments about that. My favorite was the person who wrote in to say, I didn't know what a hug sounded like until I listened to this podcast. That made me happy

because I felt exactly the same way when I listened to the interview with Danny. I was like, oh, so that's what a hug sounds like. So there was music and there were audible hugs, but there was also the remarkable story of Roger Woodward, the boy who went over Niagara Falls wearing nothing but a life jacket. We received so many great comments and feedback from you about that story. Lots of you wrote in with your own memories of Niagara. It resonated, and I'm glad it did.

Roger's story was one of the very first stories I worked on on the Vinyl Cafe. And he and I have kept in touch over the years. I care about him. And I was glad to hear that you care about him too. After that podcast aired, Roger called me up. He'd listened to the show and he'd listened to Danny's music and he'd read a lot of comments on our Facebook page. And then he said, maybe I should come on the show too. I nearly fell off my chair with excitement. And so today, we're going to welcome Roger Woodward on the show. But first, some of you may have missed that

episode. So we're going to replay Roger's story. If you've already heard the Niagara story, you can skip ahead about 20 minutes. And if you haven't, well, lucky you. You get to enjoy this. From the Livery Theatre in Godrich, Ontario, back in 2004, here's Stuart McLean with Niagara Falls. Well, you cannot talk about the Great Lakes without talking about the greatest waterfall by volume in the world, Niagara Falls. When Charles Dickens saw Niagara Falls, he wrote that he seemed to have been lifted from this earth, to be looking into heaven. Of all the things that I know about Niagara Falls, there is one true story that lifts me from this earth to be looking into heaven. Of all the things that I know about Niagara Falls,

there is one true story that lifts me from this earth, a story that makes me think that I have looked into heaven. It's a story of Roger Woodward, the seven-year-old boy who, on July the 9th, 1960, was in a small boat that capsized on the Niagara River above the falls. Wearing nothing but a life jacket, seven-year-old Roger went over Niagara Falls and he lived. I think about Roger Woodward every time I visit Niagara Falls, every time I stand on the observation deck at Niagara and I watch the hypnotically and impossibly black water roaring over the escarpment. I wonder about him and what it could possibly have been like to

be in that water. Last week it occurred to me that Roger Woodward would only be 51 years old today and it occurred to me that if I really wanted to know what it would be like I could ask him myself and so I set off to find him. Turns out Roger Woodward lives in a small town just outside of Huntsville, Alabama. It turns out that he is semi-retired. And when I got him on the phone, I introduced myself and I asked if he minded talking about his remarkable adventure. Do you remember it, I asked. I remember it like it was yesterday, he said. I remember everything.

I asked if he would tell me his story, and he did. In July of 1960, Roger lived in a mobile home in Niagara Falls, New York. His father worked at the Robert Moses Power Plant as a carpenter. His father worked in construction, so the family lived where the jobs were. We were very much a blue-collar family, Roger told me. We traveled from one place to the next, from one job to the next. Roger told me that he has a sister, and her name is Diane. Diane's birthday is July the 5th, and to celebrate her 17th birthday in 1960, a family friend, Jim Honeycutt, offered to take Roger and Dianeanne on a boat ride. Jim had a small aluminum fishing boat. There wasn't room for Roger's mom and dad. July 9th, the day of the ride, was a beautiful

sunny day in 1960, and Jim and Roger and Deanne set off down the Niagara River from well above the falls. Deanne was in the front seat, her brother Roger behind her, Jim was in the stern, and there were two life jackets on board. Roger wore one of them. They tucked the other one under the front seat. Roger says he remembers moving peacefully down the river in that little silver boat, remembers passing under the Grand Island Bridge, which is only a mile upriver from the falls, and which many see as the safety point of no return. Roger had no idea of safety points, however. He didn't even know they were anywhere near Niagara Falls.

He didn't understand that just one mile ahead, the river he was traveling on would tumble over the falls. It would be a day later after he had followed the water over the edge before he understood that. So the little fishing boat passed under the Grand Island Bridge, the point of no return. And Roger says he remembers the faces of the people in other larger boats, says he remembers thinking they looked concerned, probably because such a little boat was about to enter such a dangerous part of the river. Ahead of them, Roger saw what looked like a small white island. It was, in fact, a shoal, a small piece of land

peeking up from beneath the water, and it was covered with literally thousands of seagulls. The little fishing boat he was in hit the shoal, and suddenly there was no thrust from the propeller. Suddenly they were in trouble because the current was picking up, and the boat was starting to drift in the current down the river toward the falls. Jim yelled to Deanne to get her life jacket on, and then he took out the oars and he tried to regain control of the boat. The waves, however, were getting big. Now, the average flow of the Niagara River at Queenston

is greater than the Fraser or the Columbia or the Nelson. And that little boat was hit by one wave and then by another, and then the boat flipped. Happened so quickly that Deanne had only managed to get one of the straps of her life jacket done up before she hit the water. Roger had his jacket done up, but it was an adult-sized life jacket, and he didn't know how to swim. And his head was throbbing. Later doctors would tell him he had a concussion. And so it was in this state, Roger, seven years old, unable to swim

and wearing nothing but a giant life jacket. And Deanne with her life jacket halfway done up, and Jim with nothing at all. And so it was in this state that Roger, Deanne, and Jim hit the rapids. Within seconds, they were torn apart. Within seconds, they had lost sight of each other. Roger wouldn't see his sister again for three days. He would never see Jim again. Roger still had no idea that he was heading towards Niagara Falls, that he was

tumbling through some of the most powerful rapids in the world. Roger says that this was the worst of it. He says his head was slammed against the rocks and that he was sucked under the churning water and shot back out again like he was being blown out of a whale's blowhole. Says he couldn't see anything. His sister, Deanne, knew that she had to swim with the current if she was going to reach the shore. And that's what she started to do. Battling against the strong water and the weight of her life jacket, feeling like she was swimming through peanut butter. And just when she thought she couldn't do it anymore, just when she thought that she was over, she heard a voice. It belonged to John Hayes. John was on land, on Goat Island, the island which separates the

American Falls from the Canadian Falls. John had seen the capsized fishing boat whisk by him, and John knew that if there was a boat, then there must be people too. That's when he spotted Deanne struggling to get to shore. Of all the people watching, John was the only one to take action. He ran down the riverbank to get himself in front of the little girl, and then over the roar of the Niagara River, Deanne heard John's deep, strong voice calling to her. Come to me, girl, he said. Come to me. The falls were only 100 feet away,

but his voice gave her strength, and she could see John Hayes reaching out, extending his arm over the barrier that was protecting him from the water. John reaching for Deanne, and now Deanne reaching for John, and they miss because she's moving too fast. So now John has to get ahead of her again to where he thinks Deanne will be.

He has to outrun the powerful water that is carrying this little girl along. He has to get in front of her, and he's running out of land himself. He runs down the bank, and he gets himself into position just feet in front of the big drop. And he folds his upper body over the safety barrier and he reaches out again, getting there just as Deanne comes flying by. He reaches way down and she reaches way up and she catches his thumb. John has her now, feet from the falls, but all he has is her cold, wet, slippery hand, and all that she has is his thumb. And John doesn't want to pull too hard because he's worried if he pulls too hard she might lose her grip. And he screams for help, and another man, John

Katrowski, a truck driver from New Jersey, runs up and the two men reach down and they pull Deanne up by her life jacket. And the first thing Deanne did was ask about her brother. Where's my brother, she said. And that's when John looked out into the river and he saw Roger Woodward's seven-year-old head bobbing up and down like a tennis ball. John leaned down and he whispered in Deanne's ear and Deanne put her hands together in front of her heart. What did he tell her, I asked. He said, you need to say a little prayer for your brother. You need to say a prayer.

So Deanne put her hands together in front of her heart, and she began to whisper a prayer, praying for Roger, who was still being thrown around by the rapids. He was panicked and terrified, unable to gain control of his own body and the paralyzing force of the river. Couldn't see anything. He still had no idea where he was. He just knew he was moving fast, just knew he was out of control. As you know, if you have been there and stood like I have and stared at the water, you know the Niagara River starts to flatten as it approaches the lip of Niagara Falls.

When we spoke on the phone last week, Roger told me he remembers that moment when the rapids ended and the water smoothed off. I was finally able to catch my breath, he said. I was finally able to look around and see where I was. What Roger saw was that he was moving swiftly towards the edge of an abyss. What he remembers is looking at the shore. A crowd had gathered on the riverbank. He could see them watching.

And the panic and terror that he had been feeling just seconds before turned to anger. Why weren't they doing anything to help him? And then seven-year-old Roger Woodward looked ahead, and his anger turned to submission. year old Roger Woodward looked ahead and his anger turned to submission. He was at eye level with the falls, just feet from the lip. He still had no idea it was Niagara Falls in front of him. He couldn't see the drop. He just knew he was approaching a void, a vast area of nothingness. And that's when he realized he was going to die. What did you think about, I asked. I thought about my dog, he said, and about my parents, and about my toys. Roger says he remembers wondering what his parents would do with his toys when he died. He said he didn't think of heaven or

hell because he had never heard of them. And then, he says, he felt at peace. And that's when he dropped over the edge of Niagara Falls. He told me when he went over, he felt as if he were floating, floating on a cloud of mist. He said it felt like he was suspended in the mist. There was no sensation of falling, he said. My stomach didn't jump into my throat. There was no smack when I hit the water, no rocks, no pain, just mist. Next thing he remembers is coming out of the mist and seeing the maid of the mist, Turbo.

Captain that day was Clifford Keech. When a Captain Keech's deckhands thought he spotted a child in a life jacket, and though they couldn't tell if he was alive, Captain Keech decided to take a risk. He steered the Maid of the Mist off course. Roger was now in the current again, so Keech had to anticipate where the rough water was going to take him so that he could be there at the same time. And he was. And they threw a life ring to Roger, but he missed it. So they tried again, but Roger was tired and bruised, and he missed it again.

On the third throw, it landed right in front of the boy. And he flopped his arms around it, and they towed him up and onto the mate of the mist. Roger remembers the nurse who looked after him at the Niagara Falls Hospital. He even remembers her name, Eleanor Weaver. She brought him chocolate milk, he says. It was Eleanor who told Roger that he'd gone over Niagara Falls. And yes, he's been back to the falls. A few weeks after the accident, Roger went out on the Maid of the Mist with Captain Keech.

He says it was the first time he realized the magnitude of what had happened to him. He says he was the first time he realized the magnitude of what had happened to him. He says he was terrified. A few months later, his family went to Atlantic City. It was Roger's first time on an airplane, and the pilot knew that Roger was on board, so it's a special treat. The pilot flew the plane over Niagara Falls. Roger said he became hysterical. I was afraid the plane would fall, he said.

I was afraid I was going to have to do the whole thing all over again. Roger's family left the Niagara area a year after the accident. Roger didn't return to the Falls again for 10 years until he was a freshman in college. He came back with his father and he says as an adult the Falls didn't seem as big as they did when he was a child, not quite the monster he had seen years before. After college and marriage and kids, Roger ended up in Farmington Hills, Michigan and he and his family used to spend their holidays touring the Great Lakes on their 42-foot yacht. He says he didn't often think about that Saturday afternoon so many years ago,

but sometimes, sometimes when he was standing on his boat and looking down at the water of Lake Huron, he would get a pang in his stomach, knowing that the water that he was floating on would flow from Huron into the St. Clair River and from the St. Clair River into Lake St. Clair and from Lake St. Clair to Lake Erie and then eventually, inevitably, become part of the violent rapids of the Niagara River and on its way to and over the falls. Mostly, he said, it didn't bother him a bit. Just sometimes. So, about half an hour ago, just as we were getting ready for the show,

we decided that, you know, we should phone Roger again, and we did. And he has been on the line listening while I read that. And he's with us now, and I think... Roger, can you hear me? Hi, Stuart. How are you? I just want to say thank you. Thank you. I sincerely just want to say thank you.

For 43 years, I've been asked to share the story, but rarely, rarely have I had an opportunity to hear it. Excuse me. You guys have done just such a wonderful job. With all of the craziness in the world, and especially around Niagara Falls, we were two children. We were victims of a tragic accident. A man lost his life. By the grace of God, my sister and I were spared that day. And I just really thank you for capturing

the spirit of the story, as I know my sister and Jim and I would want it shared. my sister and Jim and I would want it shared. I'm sorry. Please excuse me. It's amazing how, as I listen to you share it, and as I shared with you that I do remember it like it happened yesterday. And no, it's not a nightmare to me today. and no it's not a nightmare to me today I've been blessed and all I can say is that we're just very thankful that we survived

life is very precious it should never be taken for granted and it certainly should never be viewed as something to tempt God with and as the people of Godrich know and as the people of the Great Lakes know, the Great Lakes has its own history, and many people have lost their lives there, but what a wonderful, beautiful place that it is. We had the opportunity, while living in Farmington

Hills, to visit Godrich one summer. We decided to take a trip on Lake Huron, and we visited Godrich. We stayed at your marina. So I really feel like I'm there with you tonight. I've been there before, and you have a beautiful place, and I just wanted you to know that I had been to your community and found it to be a very beautiful place, and we had a wonderful stay while we were there. Roger, I don't know what to say to you except God bless,

and thanks so much for sharing your story and for talking to us today. Thank you, and God bless, and I really appreciate you contacting me and, again, the way that you guys have captured the story. I hope you all have a wonderful concert, and it's been a pleasure to be a part of it. Thank you. Bye-bye. Thank you. That was Stuart McLean with Niagara Falls. And now I am so happy to welcome my friend, Roger Woodward, onto the podcast. Hi, Roger. Hi, Jess.

How are you? Oh, I'm doing just great. Thank you. What was that like for you listening to that today? What did it feel like? listening to that today? What did it feel like? I think, as you can tell at the end there, when Stuart had me on the phone, I was somewhat emotional. And the reason was because I had always been the person sharing the story. I'd always be the person telling it. Stuart just had a way of putting me not only there in my thoughts, but I was there physically and emotionally. And when I tell the story, I'm concentrating so much on what I'm going to say or what I'm going to say next that I don't have that capture for myself personally.

And Stuart being the great storyteller that was, just does a marvelous job in putting you right there. And that's why it was so sensitive for me. Was it difficult to listen to? Like, was it traumatic? Did it feel good or did it feel hard? No, it didn't. It's not hard to listen to. I think, you know, I'm so glad that Stuart remembered nurse Eleanor Weaver Cass, who took care of me in the hospital. who took care of me in the hospital. And she was such a nurturing type person and just a perfect example of what a nurse should be like, in my opinion anyway.

But she certainly took very good care of me. But we went back 33 years later to do a documentary there in Niagara Falls, Canada. And Nurse Eleanor Weaver was there at the hospital during this documentary. And all the people that were still alive then were there for this particular documentary. And one of the things that she said to me while we were standing outside in the hallway there in the hospital, I'll never forget it. She said, you know, Roger, it's okay to talk about it because it's a part of your history. And there is a healing that takes place through talking about it.

And not only did she help me when I was seven years old there in the hospital, but as a grown man, 33 years later, she helped me once again to realize that when I hear the story, when somebody asks me about the story, I don't shy away from it as much today as I did for decades, or especially after talking to Nurse Eleanor Weaver-Kass. She helped me to understand it's okay. It's a part of my history. I can't take it away. I can't eliminate it because it's part of my history and my sister's history, and it's who we are. And it's just a's part of my history and my sister's history and it's who we are.

So, and it's just a small part of the history in Niagara Falls, but we're honored to be a part of it. We are, I have this, I think what you're saying is something that I believe deeply, which is, you know, I heard you say there, it's a part of who you are. That story is a part of what makes you. And I have this theory that we are all, all of us assembled in story. And that story is a huge part of who you are. Tell me about that. How did that day, how did that story change you? How did that story change you?

I think, well, my sons, we have three wonderful sons. They're all in their 40s now. One's 38, but otherwise they're all all under 40s, and they would tell you that I was very cautious as a father. And I think that the accident instilled that sense of caution, awareness. It made me really think before I did something. Did it change your relationship with your sister? What did it do for you and Deanne? I don't know if you've ever seen the photograph of my sister and I being united for the first time.

I have. It's an incredible picture. If you look at that picture, you know, as they say, a picture says a thousand words. And the love that was between my sister and I is just as strong today as it was back then. I don't think the accident made it any stronger because she was more like, she has been more like a mother to me than a sister because she's 10 years older, for one thing. And our mother experienced some really difficult illness

that lasted throughout our lives until she went home, until she passed. So therefore, my sister really took on more of a motherly role as opposed to a sister. And so just very special person in my life. And, and now, now she's 81. And so, you know, we're both getting up there in years, but I feel now, now I take a little bit more care of her today than like she did of me when I was not able to do it for myself back then, you know. When I think about your story there, I mean, there's lots of parts of it that I sort of revisit in my mind. But one of the parts that comes to me isn't about you. It's about Deanne and it's about her floating and about John Hayes. And there's a line that we heard Stuart say there.

I can't remember if we got it from you, if you told it to us, or if Stuart came up with it on his own. But he said there that there were a number of people watching on the shore, but there was only one who took action, and that was John Hayes. Did you or Deanne ever connect with him? I'm curious about why. I mean, that's a certain type of person, right? I think there's probably lots of reasons most of them forgivable why people

wouldn't take action I think they were probably in shock but he acted quickly and he acted thoughtfully and may have saved your sister's life where did you ever speak to him again did you ever get a chance to ask him things John Hayes, a remarkable man. He had been trained in police work. He was an officer. And so he had the wherewithal to think that when he saw the boat, if there's a boat, well, there's got to be people. And that started him in action to scan the water and to look. And that's when he saw Deanna's life jacket and my life look. And that's when he saw Deanne's life jacket and my life jacket. And that's when he went into action. And he started running down Goat Island, you know, right there to the point, Terrapin Point, you know, what John Hayes did. But then

on top of that, John Catraci, likewise, when Deanne had John Hayes' thumb, and she was 20 feet from the brink, and I'm not exaggerating that. Just 20 feet from the brink. Had she gone over, most likely she would have been killed because it was nothing but rocks right there at the base. And there wasn't a pool of water that she could have landed in because she's right on the edge. And he's afraid that he's about to lose his grip. And so he's got one hand on the guardrail. He's laying on the edge. And he's afraid that he's about to lose his grip, and so he's got one hand on the guardrail. He's laying on his belly.

She's got his thumb. He can't get a grip of her hand. And then all of a sudden, he's screaming for help. And then this other amazing man by the name of John Catraci, he jumps forward out of the crowd of people that have now gathered watching this all unfold, and he gets down, and he's able to grab a hold of the back of her life jacket. Now between the two of them, they can swing her over along the rock wall there and then pull her out of the water together. So I've always said that her rescue is every bit, if not even more so, amazing than what I went through.

It really is. And I love, I mean, he did, John Hayes did so many things right, right? Like from that initial, from noticing, you know, if there's a boat, then there's going to be people, to anticipating where she might be. And those words, which are so evocative, come to me, right? Like simple, clear, direct. right? Like, simple, clear, direct. But then the moment where he has her only by her thumb, he realizes he can't, he can't do it alone. And that to me is such a powerful moment. Like,

you know, he's helping someone, but when you're helping someone, you often can't do it. You sometimes need help yourself to help someone else. And he did. He realized it. He asked for help. And someone heeded that call. And, you know, like I think so many of us, even those of us who are prone to take action, we might not be able to stop ourselves in the moment to reevaluate if what we're about to do is going to work. Right.

And he did. And he saved her life. He saved her life about three different ways, with three different actions, each of which saved her life. Exactly. Remarkable man. He was, we all lost touch because of the nature of my father's work, which was heavy construction. We moved all over the place. And plus, my parents had this attitude that when we moved to Florida, my parents said, we're not going to talk about it. We're not going to tell anybody. I think that's when I started thinking about how I'm not going to tell anybody about the accident because my parents were not going to and I'm you know I'm in like fourth grade when we moved to

Florida so I'm just a young boy and I remember thinking throughout the years gee what do we do wrong you know we can't talk about it. I mean, my sister didn't talk about it for 33 years until we went back for the documentary I shared with you earlier. And John Hayes and John Catraci, Nurse Eleanor Weaver Cass, they were there. And we got to see John Hayes again for the first time in 33 years since the accident. And literally, I felt like I was interviewing my sister instead of the person conducting the interview interviewing her. Because I had questions because we had never talked about it before. What does that mean? Like, did you talk about it at all with her afterwards?

Please don't laugh, but I'm being very sincere with you. We didn't talk about it at all. Oh my gosh. I mean, my parents, they said, you know, look, we're moving to Florida. And part of the reason we moved to Florida was to get away from all the craziness associated with the accident. And there was a lot of it. And so when we moved to Florida, they made it. I mean, I remember the discussion. We're not going to talk about it. We're not going to tell anybody.

And my sister and I never talked about it. So, like, the whole point about Deanne catching John Hayes' thumb, I didn't know that. Oh, my goodness. Until we did the documentary, and while we're doing the documentary, I'm asking Deanne these questions, and then one of the other questions was, that always puzzled me a little bit, was Jim Honeycutt was a family friend that worked with my father on the Niagara Falls Power Project.

He would come over to our mobile home now and then, because that's where we lived, Sunny Acres Mobile Home Park. He would come over occasionally, and I knew him, you know, as a seven-year-old kid, just some guy that worked with my dad. That was the extent of it. But when I found out we were going to go for a boat ride, That was the extent of it. But when I found out we were going to go for a boat ride, wow, that was exciting because I'd never been in a boat before. And I had no idea we were going on the upper Niagara River. I had no idea where Niagara Falls was.

I'd never seen it before. All I knew was that we lived in a place called Niagara Falls, New York. Hold on. I've got to stop you there. You had never seen Niagara Falls I had never seen it I had no idea that's where we were going but one of the questions I asked my sister was David did was it ever did it ever cause you to pause for a moment and wonder why are mom and dad letting us go on a boat ride with this guy that they don't, they know, but they don't really know all that well. I mean, you know, I was telling you earlier about how cautious I was with our sons when they were growing up. I don't know if I would have let

my kids go with Jim Honeycutt, especially, you know, knowing what I do about boating today, because I became an avid boater, you know, I love the water, scuba diver, and all that stuff that associated with water. And, and I know how important it is, from a safety standpoint, to focus on the things of safety concerning the water and boating. Do you think your parents, like, I can't imagine, you're a parent, I'm a parent, I have a daughter who's six, so a little bit younger. I'm going to get emotional. A little bit younger than you were. I can't imagine what your parents, thank you. I can't imagine what your parents carried around for all those years. Do you think they felt guilty? What do you think it was like for them?

that was a different generation. We didn't have seatbelts. And I remember standing on the, you know, the driveshaft hump in the car, looking over the dashboard as my dad was driving his car, and I'm just looking out over the window and taking in lights, you know. And, you know, it was just a different way of living back then, you know. Hey, look, my parents thought they were doing everything right. So, no, I don't think there was any guilt there. But I do want to mention one thing, though, if I may, about Jim Honeycutt. Yeah. Because when we went back to do the documentary, there was one thing that I noticed. There was one thing that I noticed. We went down to the actual mobile home park where he lived and where he kept his boat and walked out to that very spot where we set off on the upper Niagara River above the Grand Island Bridge. as an adult with my sister there and as a father I'm looking downriver and I can

see the mist of Niagara Falls and I'm wondering what in the world were we doing down there and you know to this day I wonder did Jim Honeycutt really know where we were? And one of the rules about boating is to always, you know, always know where you are and always know the body of water that you're in. But like I said, my sister and I had no idea that we were on the upper Niagara River. We had no idea that we were anywhere near Niagara Falls. And I can see the mist from where we started out. And so people have asked me over the years,

well, do you think he was just trying to give you a thrill, or do you think he wanted to let you see, get closer to the falls? And, you know, we'll never know on this side of eternity. But what I do know is that Jim Honeycutt's last heroic act in life was to command my sister to put on the last remaining life jacket in the boat. I had on an adult's life jacket, and she immediately put on the last life jacket in the boat as he was manning the oars to try to roll against the current we were now caught in. And whatever we were doing there is irrelevant to me because in my eyes, Jim Honeycutt was a hero because he was responsible for his last act to probably save my sister's life. One of the things that struck me about you from the very first time I talked to you

was how you've chosen to tell this story, but also how you've chosen to internalize it. You know, you choose to see Jim Honeycutt as a hero. I'm not sure everybody would be able to do that. You focus when you tell the story on the others. Like this is a remarkable story that happened to you and to your sister. And yet the other people, the human beings, Jim and John and the other John and Clifford and Eleanor, I think you see this as as much their story as it is yours and Deanne's. Absolutely. Because it is.

I mean, it's not just about me by no means. I mean, all these all these wonderful people, you know, they played a phenomenal role. I knew that you didn't, when we first contacted you, you were reluctant to tell the story. But until right now, I didn't know, I don't, well, I didn't fully understand why. And this is the thing about stories, right? If you keep telling them and you keep listening, you keep learning more

about them. So I learned something new today, which is it's not so much that you didn't want to talk about it. It's that you had been told to not talk about it. And that's changed. I've been lucky enough to talk to you over the years. And I hear an openness in your voice and in the way you're talking about this story today that I didn't hear when I first called you out of the blue, however long that, you know, I guess, gosh, Roger, 19 years ago. So something's changed in you. Am I right in thinking that you find it cathartic to talk about it now and to tell this story and to hear it? Is that right? Oh, no question. There's a healing process in talking about it. And, you know, if you talk to people that have gone through traumatic experiences, whether it's in a relationship

or an accident or an injury or something that's life-threatening. And a lot of people have moments like that. It's part of the healing process to talk about it, get those things out of your chest. And you mentioned earlier that you're learning things that you didn't know by repeatedly sharing the story and talking about it. Guess what? So am I. I learned from it as well.

How did you first tell this story to your kids? Oh, that's a good one. You know, as much as I shied away from telling the story, Jess, I was a great show-and-tell topic at school. And even for my grandkids, you know, today so and there's nothing i enjoy more than being in a classroom with a bunch of kids and having the life jacket there with me and whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa like the life jacket oh yeah like the life jacket you wore when you went over niagara falls Oh, yeah. and then I have my grandson or my granddaughter, my only granddaughter, Ellie

I had her come up and we put the life jacket on her and she's waltzing around the room all proud, she's got the life jacket on and then I have all the kids come up that want to and then I'll put the life jacket on them as well. Have you ever put that

life jacket on again? I've tried to. I'm a big boy, Jess. I'm no longer that seven-year-old kid. I'm curious, was there a time when you're told the story and people thought you were making it up, right? Like if you'd never talked about it, was there ever time when you're told the story and people thought you were making it up, right? Like if you'd never talked about it, was there ever a time where you talked about it and people kind of rolled their eyes? Oh, sure, Roger.

Yeah, there were times that happened. Like I remember my old boss, he got such a kick out of the story. He found out about it and he didn't know about it until after I'd been working with him for several years. And he didn't know about it until after I'd been working with him for several years. And so from that point forward, every time we were in some kind of an event with other people, he would always tell the story like, Roger Woodward has a claim to fame. And I'm going to give you three choices. He was the starting pitcher for the Toledo Mudhens.

That's number one. He was a participant on Let's Have a Date, some show like that. I can't remember the exact name. Or he went over Niagara Falls. And then they would guess, and rarely would they guess Niagara Falls, and then I would always fall back on, no, I was the starting pitcher for the Toledo Mudhens. He would say, he went over Niagara Falls, and I said, no, Bill, come on, you're not doing that Niagara Falls thing again, are you? That's fantastic. I was the starting pitcher for the Toledo Mudhens. And on a humorous moment, since we found one here, I did end up on Trivial Pursuit, the Baby Boomers edition of Trivial Pursuit.

What did a wet seven-year-old Roger Woodward do on July 9th, 1960, is the question, and I have the card. A fellow co-worker and his dad used to play it all the time, so he gave me the card. Well, everyone listening to this podcast today will forever get the answer right to that question, Roger, because your story is one that anyone who hears it does not forget it. Anyone who hears it does not forget it. Thank you so much for coming on the show today. And thank you for your friendship. We've known each other now for almost 20 years. And I look forward to every discussion that we have. So thank you.

Oh, you're welcome. And thank you, Jess. I've enjoyed our friendship. And I'm so glad that you made that call that day 20 years ago. And I'm glad that you are working on the Vinyl Cafe backstage. I think this is great, and I wish you all great success with it. And thank you for having me. Thanks so much for joining us.

Thank you, Jess. Have a wonderful day. You too. That was my friend, Roger Woodward. I am so glad that I made that phone call, gosh, 19 years ago. And so glad that he shared his story with us then and now. We have to take a short break right now, but we'll be back in a minute with a sneak peek of what's to come next season. All right, that's it for today, but we'll be back here soon with more from Stuart McLean, like this.

Words had been, and in fact were still, coming out of his mouth, though he had no idea whatsoever what he was saying. He'd been too busy thinking about his spatula hands to pay attention and now he heard himself talking and his voice sounded peculiar to him. It didn't sound like his voice. It sounded like someone doing a not very good imitation of his father which is when he noticed he had reached the bottom of the page. He turned the page quickly so no one would notice his big, fat cartoon hands,

and he began reading at the top of the other side of the page, and he was a third of the way down before he realized that he had been there before. He turned back to page 5 instead of on to page 7. So he said sorry and he flipped the page over and started down page 6 for the second time, not noticing what he had done because he was too busy looking at the girl in the yellow sweater who had stopped nodding and begun to frown,

which is when Dave remembered what he was supposed to do with his hands. He was supposed to make gestures. And he thought, where are my hands anyway? And he began to pat himself down, looking for his hands the way he looked for his glasses. And he thought, isn't that silly? And that is the precise moment when his mind clicked over. Dave had been reading the words on the pages in front of him mechanically while he fretted privately about everything else. Now, unbeknownst to Dave, deep in his brain a synapse misfired some wires crossed

and he began reading his speech silently and speaking out loud the inner dialogue that was running through his head. You can hear the whole story and more on our brand new season

of Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe that's coming in a few weeks. The first episode will drop on Friday, September 6th. Until then, thanks for listening. So long for now.