CANADIAN HENLEY CHAMPIONS 1951

This photograph was taken after Charley and Joey won the Canadian Henley in 1951. I saw this photograph for the first time only a few weeks ago. Charley was proud to discuss it with me.

In looking at my dad and Charley, I am reminded of the time Charley first taught me how to scull. It was 1993 and I had only recently discovered my family rowing history. After my dad died in 1992, I found a gold medal in my mom's jewelry box. My mom described my father's rowing life with his brothers, Charley and Richard, for the first time and the national titles they'd won. I was curious to learn more about my dad and his brothers. I called Charley and I recall he was excited at the prospect of having another McIntyre competing.

In our first discussion, without ever having seen me in the boat, he spoke about the prospect of making the Olympic Team. Wow, I thought, he's making a big leap to think I'd be a world class rower simply because I'd had success in swimming. For me, the rowing years were best described as a sentimental journey. It was a time for discovery about a man I barely knew, my father, and the beginnings of a beautiful loving relationship between my dad's big brother and me. I barely knew Charley when all of this rowing business began. In fact, I remember feeling uncertain as to whether I should refer to him as Bobo or Uncle Charley. The latter felt more comfortable to me, so I went with it.

The first day we rowed together, Charley elected to put me in the bow seat. We covered a lot of ground that afternoon. First, it was all about the hands and how to hold the oar, followed by a discussion of the sculler's catch, swing, rhythm, and timing. Mostly, though, it was about the catch. Follow my lead, he said, as I soaked up his instruction like a sponge. After a while, Charley suggested we go back to the dock and change seats. As we pulled away from the dock, I could not help but feel like my dad was watching us. There I was having a row with "Bobo", as I dared to sit in my father's seat. It was a spiritually powerful experience for me.

I recall we were out near the "locks." I was in awe of the Alaskan fishing boats everywhere. They seemed gigantic! I remember looking up, marveling at the size, as a fisherman hung over the side and snapped a photo of the two of us. It was my first day in the boat with my Uncle Charley. It was a perfect day and one I will always remember.

Charley loved to row with his brother Joey. Just an hour before he died, I encouraged my Uncle Charley to look for Joey. I was sure my dad would be coming for him. The water is flat in heaven, I said, and Joey is waiting for you. Your rhythm is perfect and your speed unmatched. It's time to go.......

I hope my talk of rowing comforted Charley in his final hours with us, but my biggest hope of all is that my dad did come for my Uncle Charley and that they rowed away together on calm heavenly waters.

Shannon McIntyre Woods