CALEDONIA — It”s an oasis on a sweltering day. With a dearth of water-based options in the Golden Triangle, it”s no wonder people flock to the Buttahatchie River to play on the rope swings at the Lawrence Bridge.
On a given afternoon, someone is always there. On the weekend, the place is crowded; the wait in line for the swings is sometimes as much as 10 minutes.
“People chill out in the water all across the river,” said Thomas Kimbrough, 20, of Sulligent, Ala. “It”s always packed out. We come out here every day and stay the night on the weekend.”
It”s a place where teenagers go to share cigarettes, and if they”re lucky, sip beer an older sibling or friend has provided.
“Ain”t nothing but a bunch of rednecks!” Kimbrough grinned as he stepped up to the swing.
The main attraction is a tree with a thick, knotted blue rope. Most of the time, people swing out over the river and just drop, but sometimes the more acrobatic participants do flips or dives. When people are feeling especially daring, they”ll leap for the rope, arms outstretched, and see how many riders they can fit on the swing at one time. On a good day, five people can ride together, but only if the top two climb as high as they can.
The rope disappears into the leaves of the tree, but even the branches, nearly 60 feet off the ground, are a staging area for the most fearless daredevils to jump into the water.
Adam Morgan, who calls himself Crazy Cat the River Rat, scampered to the top of the tree to fix the rope. Then he prepared to jump.
“Do a flip, Crazy!” yelled Kimbrough.
“I don”t do flips,” Morgan said. With that, he was in the air. He hit with an explosive splash that sent water onto the leaves of the branches he had just left.
“Did you hit bottom?” asked Cody Gant when Morgan surfaced.
“No, ”cause I know how to land,” Morgan said proudly.
“Is the tree higher than the bridge?” Gant asked.
“Yeah, but I”ve seen you put water on top of that bridge,” Morgan said.
There are other ropes farther up the river where the bank falls off steeply. The swings are nothing more than thin bits of rope connected to rusty handles. But the risk is worth it; the ropes sling the riders out far into the middle of the river, where they have to let go from a stomach-tickling height.
It”s also a place for the older folks to meet for a smoke and a drink and reminisce about the times when they themselves were young enough to fly through the air and smack the water.
“I taught my son how to swim out here,” said Anthony Morris, who lives in Smithville, and has been coming to this section of the river since he was about 9 years old. “You”ve got a new generation every year that comes through here.”
At this particular part of the river, there are few rules.
“This is one of the few places you can go to swim like this,” Morris said. “Everywhere else, you”ve got to have a boat.”
It”s also one of the few places where people cook out and bring their own alcoholic beverages.
“We”re lucky to have a police force that lets us drink a beer,” Morris said, and his friends raised their cups in agreement.
Mix alcohol with the desire for admiration, though, and the result is a potent recipe for both amazing stunts and boneheaded disasters. Occasionally, there have been serious injuries, or worse.
“People have drowned,” Morris said. “I”ve seen it.”
But for the most part, people have a good time without incident.
“This is where everybody”s at,” said Kim Murphy, of Sulligent, Ala. “It”s just good company. Every time you come out here, you see somebody you know.”
One such regular is Buddy Howell, of Amory. His long, curly hair is on its way from blonde to gray. He wears a Confederate flag pendant next to a cross made out of nails. His skin is reddened from many afternoons spent under the sun.
“I”ve been coming out here since I was about 2 or 3,” he said. “I”m 50 now.”
Howell has seen plenty in his day. He remembers a time when the banks were littered with glass and trash. He”s seen the way the water has shaped the banks. He”s seen people jump, dive and flip off the Lawrence Bridge.
“You will go to jail for jumping off that thing,” Howell said. “Since those kids drowned, I heard it”s a $2,500 fine.”
But no fine can trump an opportunity to impress — not at the river. Howell got up from his camping chair in the water. He downed his beer and set off for the bridge.
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