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The River: Sometimes there are dreadful and sad memories, especially when the River claims its own


By Capt. Don Sanders
Special to NKyTribune

(The riverboat captain is a storyteller, and Captain Don Sanders is sharing the stories of his long association with the river — from discovery to a way of love and life.)

Nearly fours years have flown by quicker than our family cats can find the kitchen at the first sound of a can-opener since NKyTribune editor, Judy Clabes, surprisingly invited this washed-up river rat to begin writing a river column for her online newspaper. My first written words were, “Where shall I start?” Today is no exception. Two hundred-some weeks later, as I sit at the computer, I am asking myself the same question.

Nearly fours years have flown by quicker than our family cats can find the kitchen at the first sound of a can-opener.

But not long after I began scouring my favorite social media’s river groups, a disturbing notification quickly caught my eye: “The Coast Guard is looking for a man who fell overboard from the AMERICAN QUEEN steamboat on Wednesday, December 1st, near Mile Marker 229 of the Mississippi River.” Immediately,” according to reports, “the AMERICAN QUEEN launched their rescue boat, but “despite a full day of searching, remained missing after sunset.”

Unfortunately, no further developments are known as I hunt and peck around my computer keyboard. By the time you are reading this, more will surely be revealed.

Little wounds a vessel’s spirit worse than to lose a colleague to the very element that supports and fosters the lives and lifestyle of every worker onboard — the River. Such is the dreadful memory I carry of the loss of Richard Bedard, a deckhand who mysteriously disappeared while on duty on my watch during the early hours of Sunday, April 30, 1972, as the DELTA QUEEN plowed upstream past Old Graveyard Slough near Reelfoot Lake, at Tiptonville, Tennessee. It’s a mean, empty emotion to find a deserted chair on an open deck only several feet above the angry surge swollen by upstream rains. After thoroughly combing all the standard and secluded spaces fail to find a missing person, the ill-feeling worsens.

The Coast Guard is looking for a man who fell overboard from the AMERICAN QUEEN steamboat on Wednesday, December 1st, near Mile Marker 229 of the Mississippi River. (Photo by Madison Berry)

The DELTA QUEEN’s Log Book for the 30th scarcely notes: “Crewmember Bedard reported at 4 AM. Has not been located onboard.”

Bedard’s demise was not reported to the Coast Guard until the QUEEN arrived in Louisville, Kentucky for the “Great Steamboat Race,” an event it missed due to the steamboat’s slow struggle breasting the surge of the Lower Mississippi.

Anyone reading my early tales of decking aboard the Steamer AVALON may remember that I was assigned the oarsman’s role aboard the two-man rescue boat we frequently launched to fetch a “jumper” from the grips of the Mississippi. Such emergencies infrequently occurred whenever a well-liquored patron decided to plunge over the side – often to the coaxing of equally inebriated friends. Harry Ricco, dancefloor Watchman and rescue boat commander, and I saved several sots from a watery farewell as Harry steered and gave commands while I manned the stout, oaken oars.

Tragedy visited another riverman on the Upper Ohio River at Montgomery Lock and Dam, near Pittsburgh, this past November 22nd, 2021, when deckhand Kevin Robert Childers, 42, accidentally drowned while working on a tow near the lock. Whenever a river family member perishes, especially in the line of duty, shock, and grief from the calamity resonate like a tolling bell sadly along the length and breadth of the river from the source to the sea.

This past November 22nd, 2021, when deckhand Kevin Robert Childers, 42, accidentally drowned while working on a tow. (Photo by Rivermen & Riverboats)

My heartfelt prayers join others within the fluvial community for the comfort and peace of the families, crewmembers, and friends of those who unfortunately lost their lives on the rivers they served.

While we recall the memory of the deceased, this past November 30th was the 26th anniversary of Captain Roddy “Roddy” Hammett’s senseless, cold-blooded murder in New Orleans. Of my generation of steamboaters, none was more unique, or talented, than he. Ironically, Roddy died on a day that had happier connotations in the steamboat world: November 30th also celebrates the anniversaries of Mark Twain’s birth and the launching of the hull of the Steamer MISSISSIPPI QUEEN.

Roddy was a Watchman onboard the boat when I returned to the DELTA QUEEN in January 1970 following a four-year stint in the U. S. Air Force. Saying we immediately became friends is a misnomer, as he revealed later once we struck a fast friendship that lasted throughout his lifetime. Two months before returning to the venerable steamboat, I lived in Seoul, Korea. Like most GIs, I packed my return baggage with souvenirs of the “Hermit Kingdom.” Among the treasures were several brass Buddist temple bells that rang in the wind employing a brass fish hanging on a short length of chain attached to a four-posted clapper.

Upon my arrival aboard the DELTA QUEEN, Captain Ernest E. Wagner assigned me the tiny room immediately on the left when entering the Officers’ Quarters on the Sun Deck, starboard side. All around the almost-cell-like cabin, I hung the bells of varying sizes. Whenever the QUEEN entered a lock and finally laid against the cement land wall, the bells responded in voices equal to the severity of the contact of the steel hull with the concrete bulwark. It wasn’t long before Roddy poked his head into my room and expressed his admiration of the jingly, brass temple bells. Still, the air remained chilly between us.

This past November 30th was the 26th anniversary of Captain Roddy “Roddy” Hammett’s senseless, cold-blooded murder in New Orleans.

Within two months of my return to the DELTA QUEEN, Roddy resigned after accepting a berth on the excursion steamer, the BELLE OF LOUISVILLE, in Louisville, Kentucky. With the QUEEN preparing to depart New Orleans, Rod was standing on the tarred wooden wharf waiting to see the boat leave before he caught George Cate’s United Cab to the airport. That’s when the idea struck to give Roddy a departure gift he would enjoy, or perhaps, even treasure.

So, I ran to my room up the many flights of stairs, removed a small temple bell hanging overhead, enclosed it in a ball of wrapping paper, and hurried back to my station on the bow. By now, all the passengers were aboard, and all visitors were ashore. Soon the deck crew stowed the gangway. Then, with the aft lines gone, Captain Wagner started backing the stern away from the tall wooden pilings supporting the wharf where Roddy Hammett stood standing close to a bollard ready to remove the eye and toss the backing line down onto the bow once the Captain gave the order.

“HEY RODDY,” I yelled up to where he was waiting. “CATCH THIS.”

Saying we immediately became friends is a misnomer.

Carefully I tossed the paper ball containing the brass bell so that it flew about as high as Roddy’s chest for an easy catch. I could see that he was unsure whether to catch the surprise or let it fall back into the swirling waters of the Mississippi.

Some years later, Captain Roddy Hammett remembered that day on the wharf in New Orleans and disclosed: “I didn’t know what you were hurling my way, and I was about to let it fall back into the river — but something told me to grab it. Later, when I unwrapped the ball of wrapping paper and found the brass Buddist temple bell — well, I knew then that you were alright.”

Of course, I was delighted that Cap’n Roddy caught my surprise gift which broke the ice between us and opened the door to a friendship lasting until that fateful day, November 30, 1995, when the river senselessly lost one of its finest stars.

Also, see this Capt. Sanders story about fond and sad happenings on the River.

Roddy resigned after accepting a berth on the excursion steamer, the BELLE OF LOUISVILLE, in Louisville, Kentucky.

Captain Don Sanders is a river man. He has been a riverboat captain with the Delta Queen Steamboat Company and with Rising Star Casino. He learned to fly an airplane before he learned to drive a “machine” and became a captain in the USAF. He is an adventurer, a historian and a storyteller. Now, he is a columnist for the NKyTribune and will share his stories of growing up in Covington and his stories of the river. Hang on for the ride — the river never looked so good.


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9 Comments

  1. Beverly Craig says:

    Thanks for this informative article Don. Keep writing!

  2. Ken McLemore says:

    We oft need to be reminded of the fragility of life aboard a vessel. Thanks Cap’n! So sorry for the loss of your friends!

  3. Cornelia Reade-Hale says:

    Thank you Capt Don for honoring our lost river comrades named & unnamed. You bring the poignancy to full measure without over drama. My dad lost his first mate off the tow just a few days before the man was due to retire. It haunted dad until the day he went to the Great Steamboat in the sky.
    I especially love your tribute to “Roddy” one of the dearest river men I’ve known. He was my first ‘river rat pal’ as we lock hopped the Delta Queen in our teens. I love that story of the bell which I’d not heard from either of you but I knew there was a strong bond. Thanks for bringing the full measure of river both life
    & death to focus in such great detail. God Bless all.

  4. Ronald Sutton says:

    Despite Many of us making our Living Here, the Rivers, Lakes and Oceans are Not Our Friends. They will Kill Us for even the slightest mistake, like the poor Deckhand. I must take this opportunity to Mourn Capt Roddy and his senseless death. A memory; I brought a Lady to ride the Natchez, bought Tickets and Boarded. Ran on to Capt. Roddy on deck; he not only went got my $$ back, but invited us to make the trip in the Pilot House on the Lazy Bench,

  5. John Edward Dahlgren says:

    Just remember when the waters reclaim one of their own, they are as much home as they are when on dry land. Thank you for the remembrances.

  6. Ginnie Rhynders says:

    Once again, I am reminded that not all river stories are full of romance and sunsets. Although sad, it’s important to remember the real-life events that occur all too frequently. Thank you, Sir.

  7. June Wiley says:

    A timely telling of the dangers on the river and the streets of New Orleans. Let this not detract from our praying for the current crewman lost to the river once again. Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family and the families of all who have lost their lives while working for the steamboats…..God Bless all!!!

  8. Robby says:

    I’m sure the person that fell overboard is gone but not forgotten sad it happened so close to Christmas

  9. Cap'n Don says:

    Thanks, again, everyone, for your insightful comments. As Captain Rip Ware reminded, “Sometimes, ya haf’ta take tha bitta with the sweet.”

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