I've already discussed two major ways in which people feared the Trinity River, in previous posts I described how people often assumed the worst about the creatures and crimes in the botttomlands, with tragic consequences. And much of the dissertation explores how floods dictated the rhythms of daily life. However, my students in my "Rivers, Politics, and Power" course reminded me of another way in which people have feared rivers, mainly through the risk of drowning. During my research for this dissertation I came across countless accounts of drownings in newspapers, journals, and legal documents. At a certain point, I stopped cataloging reports of drowning because the reports were so prevalent.
Over the last two centuries I believe that somewhere around a hundred people died from drowning in the Trinity River. They died running away from slavery. They drowned bathing in the river. They died swimming to ferries tied to the wrong side of the bank. In the 19th century they drowned on sinking steamboats and in the 20th century they drowned clearing snagged trees in order to make the river navigable again.
I pay close attention to these events in the first half of my dissertation. Because word spread about deaths in the Trinity, most people whether they were runaways, steamboat pilots, or stock farmers took precautions when crossing the Trinity. One of the things that stands out to me now, is how many of these deaths took place in the 20th century. As bridges were built across the Trinity and people moved away from the bottomlands, it seems there would have been fewer opportunities to drown in the river. Perhaps the fact that so many people nonetheless drowned in the 20th century meant that people who had no experience with the power of the river would have been less cautious or afraid. It also suggests the ways in which the Trinity retained its power, particularly in urban areas where it was generally hidden from sight behind massive levees.
As I mentioned in my recent Dallas Morning News column in November, the most common response I have heard from North Texas residents when I say Trinity River is, "oh, the bodies?" I had assumed that they were referring to the murder victims who had been thrown into the river, but this reflection suggests they have a broader understanding of the Trinity's relationship to death.
Writing a dissertation on a river forces you to pay close attention to language. Rivers are humankind's original metaphor, describing the constant process of change, including life and death. Like other rivers, the Trinity invites its residents to think in terms of allegories. Thus, the Trinity became a stygian river, not just because of the people who did die in the river, but also because they had been taught about the river Styx and were conditioned to think of certain rivers in this way.
Finally, I wonder how this long history of people unable to counter the power of the river played into opposition to the proposed Trinity River canal. If those drownings contributed to an understanding of the foolishness of trying to control such a powerful and unpredictable process. On the other hand, maybe these deaths encouraged the opposite response: we cannot live with such a dangerous river and it must be tamed and controlled.