I’m about to share with you a firsthand account of a near-death experience my brother, Jim Vogel, had 14 years ago while kayaking through Clifton Gorge in John Bryan State Park. I’m so thankful for the words he wrote about his experience soon after the events took place, which will make up the bulk of this two-part blog. Thank you, God, for protecting my brother that day … and thank you Jim, for being willing to share your story.

Let me tell you, when you genuinely think you are about to die, it does something to you that I can’t describe. It forces you to think about what really matters in life. I distinctly remember thinking about never getting to see my family again, and it horrified me. I have never been the same since that moment.

– Jim Vogel

The story I am about to tell was a turning point in my life. Up to this point I had lived life with very little fear of death and limited forethought as to the consequences of my actions. I was your typical daring young man with few inhibitions. When I think now about the unnecessary risks that I took up to that point, it truly surprises me that I had not perished. From climbing 300-foot cell phone towers to solo flying a powered parachute to seeing how fast my Chevy Nova or Honda Valkyrie would go, I pushed the limits and walked away unscathed.

But I was nearing the next phase of my life. Within 6 months I would be married and within a year and a half, I would become a father. Looking back on this now, I believe this was God’s hand telling me to slow down, think about what I was doing, and be careful. That life was not just about me, and that I had a larger purpose. All things aside, this was one of the most impactful moments of my life, and I think of it often. It changed how I thought about things and made decisions moving forward.

This day was April 6, 2010.

During this time I was working as a full-time police officer for the Wapakoneta Police Dept. Monday and Tuesday were my days off, and this just so happened to be the same days off as my brother, Robert Vogel (Bobby), who worked as a police officer in Kenton, Ohio. We had a lot in common during these days and were close. That summer we had taken a number of kayaking and canoe trips in the area and were looking for adventure.

For the last year or so, Bobby had been talking about taking a kayak trip to Georgia to go kayaking on the same river that they filmed the movie Deliverance on, the Chattooga River in Georgia. (We ultimately did go rafting down the same stretch where the film was shot and even met the young man who filmed the famous dueling banjos scene, Billy Reddin.) In preparation for that trip, Bobby mentioned going to a river with rapids to get some practice. Bobby had researched local waterways and read that there were level 2-4 rapids on the Little Miami River near Yellow Springs, Ohio. I was up for anything so we decided the next day we would make it happen.

The trip began on a familiar stretch of highway down S/B I-75 to Dayton and then E/B onto I-70. 20-30 miles east, we got off the interstate and drove 10-15 miles S/B on State Route 72 to a tiny little village called Clifton. It was a quaint little area with a covered bridge and a historic grist mill. We scouted the area and stopped for a few moments at the bridge in Clifton to check out the river. The river didn’t look too large, but it was flowing pretty fast, and the rocks cascaded up each river bank. We would soon learn what a gorge was (just think the Grand Canyon, but on a much smaller scale).

We found a place to get in the river a few miles east of Clifton on a back road that the Little Miami River flows under. We parked our vehicles, got ready and were on our way. On the drive down there, I had on a pair of knee-high waterproof boots, but I had also brought some tennis shoes. I had on a large vest with a bunch of pockets, which carried my .357 off-duty revolver, my wallet, my phone, and a few other things. It was getting warm out when we were getting ready to put in so I decided to leave my vest in the car, and I also decided to put my tennis shoes on instead of wearing the big heavy boots. (I later found these to be wise decisions.)

I had not done a lot of kayaking, but I had spent a fair amount of time in a canoe. Bobby and I practically grew up on the St. Marys River and had canoed down the Auglaize, Maumee, Mad, and Miami Rivers scores of time so I felt like I knew what I was doing. We normally didn’t wear life jackets as we were capable young men with intermediate swimming/floating abilities. However, this trip felt a little different and with what we had read, it seemed prudent to put life jackets on. I am forever thankful that we did.

The first couple of miles were pretty boring. The river was about the size we were used to and there was nothing extraordinary about it. The scenery was pretty, but the river was docile.

After what seemed like 3 or 4 miles, we began to see more houses and knew we were getting close to Clifton. Upon approaching the village, we heard water rushing and quickly saw that there was a waterfall up ahead. I paddled over to the side of the river and stepped out of my kayak to look at it. 

It was definitely a waterfall, about 15-20 feet of one. On the side that I was on there were rocks that gradually sloped to the river downstream, but in the middle, it was a straight drop off. The water was moving faster as well. We kept going down the river, but now we hardly had to paddle, just maneuvering with the paddles to steer the kayaks through some rapids.

So far this was fun, a little challenging and more difficult than any canoeing or kayaking than I had ever done, but it was fun and didn’t seem too dangerous to me. I did wonder to myself how much worse it was going to get.  

We went through another rapid and then another. They were getting more forceful. On the third rapid, we both ended up out of our kayaks. The trouble we were having was that in the rapids, the water was rushing and waving about and would just flow right into your kayak. Once your kayak is filled up with water, then you virtually can’t steer the thing. After this happens you end up falling out.

At this point I looked in front of me and saw that Bobby had his kayak behind a large rock just before another rapid. His kayak was perpendicular to the rock and was being forced against it. I stopped behind him to help, but it wasn’t long before the river was pushing me past him.

Concerned his kayak would break, he was still trying to get his kayak free, which we eventually did. The tone was changing from this being a leisurely kayak trip to something more intense.

At this point we were in the gorge, which meant that we were surrounded by slippery rock walls sloping straight up about 30-40 feet. In the past on the rivers we had navigated, the river banks were lined with trees and roots that you could grab onto to pull yourself out. This was a completely different scenario because there was nothing to hold onto and nowhere to go.

After a little ways we saw a decent sized rapid ahead of us. Bobby was in front of me, and it didn’t take long before I saw that he was out of his kayak holding onto it being washed down the river. He told me later that the water was rushing into his boat and this tipped him over. I somehow made it through this rapid without falling out of my kayak. Bobby was able to find a spot in the river to stop and empty the water from his kayak. As I went past him I didn’t feel like I could stop, so I kept going. I went around a bend and another raging rapids up ahead.

If there had been time to panic, I might have done so, but I was in the thick of it so I clenched my teeth and faced the storm; I really didn’t have a choice. 

I entered the rapids and it didn’t take long before I lost control of my kayak and fell out. My kayak and I were being swept through this rapids with absolutely no control. I reached out to hold onto my kayak, but it had turned upside down and there was nowhere to hold onto.

About midway through the rapids, I caught a glance of a waterfall up ahead. I quickly thought to myself, “Oh shit … this isn’t good.”

All I could do was try to keep myself from hitting my head on the rocks. I knew if I got knocked out and went over the waterfall, it would be over. I was getting swept through the rapids like a feather in the wind, absolutely no control. My legs and arms were banging against rocks as I tried to keep myself composed and stay above water. Then before I had a chance to think, I was at the falls, facing a 10-15-foot drop. (I later learned this area is called “The Narrows” because it is the most narrow point in the gorge. The entire river must flow through a 4-foot wide section of the rock.)

As I was swept over the falls and started falling, I remember hearing a loud crack and my first thought was that I had just knocked myself out. Then a moment later I was underwater. I hadn’t even had a chance to hold my breath so I began sucking in water on the way down.

After being underwater for a moment, I noticed that everything was black. I distinctly remember thinking, “What the hell, am I in a cave?” I was trying to get back to the surface, but I didn’t know which way was up. I couldn’t see any light anywhere. 

I still don’t know exactly what happened. It was either pretty deep or I got disoriented under the water. I tried like hell to get back to the surface, but I couldn’t find it. I was swallowing water and literally fighting for my life. After a few seconds of seeing nothing but black I thought to myself, “This is it … I’m going to drown. This is how I’m going to die.”

Yes, I’m going to leave you on a cliffhanger – for the rest of the story, stay tuned for Part Two.