REGULAR GUY GOES MISSING WHILE SHOVELING A PATH TO DRIVEWAY!
[The Egan Cabin at Rainbow Lake at time of search. Aerial photo from Channel 7 News Drone7]
[Photo credit: Google search]
Rainbow Lake, NY (AP)
Only days after a lone ice fisherman had turned, basically into a snowman, another winter-related incident occurred on a lonely loop road in the town of Rainbow Lake. A regular average man (name is being withheld pending further investigation) vanished only yards away from his front deck while shoveling his way from his front door to the safety of his, as yet, unplowed driveway.
This following a major snowstorm that dumped nearly 20″ of snow the previous night.
This photo was taken by his wife shortly before the tragic event.
[Photo credit: Mariam Voutsis]
His wife spoke to state police Search & Rescue: “I don’t know. One minute he was there and the next minute, he wasn’t. I thought he wandered off to take some pictures for Facebook,” she said while taking another sip of her fresh cappuccino mocha.
“Oh, I see you like a sprinkle of cinnamon in your coffee,” said the Trooper. “What else can you tell us?”
“Sometimes I don’t use cinnamon, I just take it neat.”
“No, I meant about your husband, ma’am.”
“Well, he kept complaining about how he had no place to put the new fallen snow.” The Trooper looked out at the piles of newly fallen snow. The tiny crystals twinkled in a sun that was struggling to break through the cloudy sky, as gray as a wet sidewalk in Schenectady. “He spoke to me through a crack in the front door. He told me that every time he would heave a shovel-full of snow onto this giant pile on the deck, much of it would slide back, forcing him to shovel the same place all over again. Poor guy. He has a bad back, you know?”
“It’s unfortunate but most men his age have back problems. Does it affect his golf game at all? I’m looking for suggestions to lower my handicap.”
“Oh, heavens, we gave that up years ago. Those little white balls kept getting lost in the snow.”
“You can paint them red, ma’am. Besides golf is a summer game.”
The wife looked out over the mound in the driveway (which was her Honda CRV, she hoped) and pondered this comment. “Summer? like in the season?”
“Yes, ma’am. The time when people swim, fish, take walks, go camping, sit on the beach…things like that.”
“Well, the search dogs are getting a little tired. They don’t like deep snow. I best be calling off the search for now.”
The Trooper surveyed the yard and the front deck.
“Sorry to have to say this ma’am, but from the looks of this accumulation, we may not have any luck in locating your husband until late-May at the earliest.”
“I’ll probably be in New York City then, so here’s my contact number. Don’t hesitate to call if you find something.”
“Rest assured. And thanks for the cappuccino.”
[Happier days at Rainbow Lake. Photo taken by Pat Willis]