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One day, while on lifeguard duty at Virginia Beach, I saw a man named Jack and his son swept out to sea, struggling in deceptively calm waters. As he strove for shore while keeping his son afloat, raw panic flashed in his eyes. The beach seemed to recede with each desperate stroke. Jack’s gaze met mine, a silent “HELP ME” radiating across the waves. If they drowned, the fault would be mine.
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How had I let this happen? From my tower, I’d assessed the hundred or so swimmers, categorizing them as either fit and unlikely to struggle
