Mark Dansak

We finally tossed my dad’s ashes into the river. I debated admitting this publicly, but after checking the books I understand that we didn’t break any laws, so here we are.

Family and friends gathered at Horseshoe Bend where the rock piers of the Miller Covered Bridge, now vanished but for these old supports, provide a stately entrance to a promising journey. Within seconds our daughter Emma capsized in her kayak. I shared a canoe with my uncle Richard, and after a ridiculous show of going nowhere, our friend Joseph hollered, “What are y’all doing?” We were backwards in our seats. Once we all got facing the right way and settled into our respective boats two bald eagles swooped down from the trees. They turned and led us onward, our guides for this important mission. 

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