The Chattooga River Flows Deep With Grief

A FATHER'S DETERMINATION complicates a tragic situation in Georgia: Should the needs of nature be set aside for a family whose daughter drowned?

CLAYTON, Ga. - Trapped below the surface, she waits and waits, while a roaring river and a raging controversy swirl above her head.

Six weeks have passed since 16-year-old Rachel Trois and her boyfriend stepped into the Chattooga River, two teens on a hike through the Blue Ridge Mountains, trying to hopscotch across the same rocks and hurtling rapids featured in the film "Deliverance."

Suddenly, Rachel slipped. The river swept her downstream, slid her over a 6-foot drop, then pulled her under. Her boyfriend slipped, too, but Rachel's body probably blocked him from a fatal whirlpool, enabling him to swim ashore.

Rescuers know exactly where Rachel is: 8 feet below the river's froth, in a rock formation that gargles the current like a gaping mouth. But reaching her has proved too great a task for even the most rugged river men. Most are ready to call off the effort.

Rachel's father won't let them.

"I have a very simple thing I want to do here," says Joseph Trois of Leesport, Pa. "I want to get that girl out of the river."

His determination has complicated an already agonizing situation. Rescuers want to help a grieving father. But they don't want to help the Chattooga claim another life. Rachel was the river's 35th victim in the past 29 years.

Also, the Chattooga is protected by the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. One of the last free-flowing rivers in the South, it's a natural wonder that drops through a gorge at 180 feet per mile in some spots. By congressional mandate, it must be maintained "in free-flowing condition."

Already, one temporary dam has been built as part of the rescue effort. Should a bigger dam be built, some in this river town say the rights of future generations and the needs of nature will have been set aside for the sake of one family.

First, they had to find her

The first step was obvious. Rescuers hovered above the spot where Rachel was last seen, May 29, while dogs and underwater cameras determined precisely where she was.

"She's in a 10-foot cone-shaped hole, feet first," says Henry Gordon, head of emergency preparedness in Oconee County, on the South Carolina side of the Chattooga, which forms a border with Georgia. "She's wedged in there. And there's a tremendous amount of pressure flowing on top of her."

In a steady rain, the river rising and crashing all around them, divers made four tries at dislodging Rachel. The current was so fierce, it tore the masks from their faces.

Following standard procedure, the rescue team pulled back and waited for the water to fall. Maybe next week. Maybe next year. "The river will let us know when we can get her out," says Dave Perrin, a guide for 20 years on the Chattooga. "The river has always given up its dead."

But Trois wouldn't give up his daughter. He found a New Jersey company, Portadam, which volunteered to dam the Chattooga just long enough for divers to grab Rachel. The idea was furiously debated among rescuers.

Trois reached out to the senior senator from South Carolina and asked him to pressure the U.S. Forest Service, which oversees the river. Sen. Strom Thurmond, R-S.C., whose 22-year-old daughter died in a car accident six years ago, wasted no time.

Do whatever it takes, he told Forest Service officials.

Despite the danger, despite concerns for the river's pristine condition, Forest Service officials permitted the dam. But the dam not only failed, it nearly led to disaster. While stretching the metal-and-fabric apparatus across the river, rescuers were swept away. As the dam gave, one man was hurled against the rocks. Another went barreling toward the whirlpool that got hold of Rachel.

"He had to go sit in the woods, he was so freaked out," says Buzz Williams, a former river guide who now heads the Chattooga River Watershed Coalition, which tries to fend off man-made threats to the river.

Aside from the wisdom of risking more lives, Williams questions the legal right of Forest Service officials to alter the river.

"The Wild and Scenic Rivers Act says the river shall not be altered. They went down with a jackhammer and drilled 20 holes for this dam. I think both a third-grader and a federal judge would agree with me: That's altering.

"It's not so much that drilling these holes is a big deal," he says, "except I know where this is going to lead. It gives purchase to those who argue we need to alter these places. . . . Where does this end?"

Days ago, Williams got a letter from Thurmond. If the river is so unsafe that rescuers can't reach Rachel, the letter said, maybe it's time to declare the river off-limits.

Williams shudders. Only through access, he says, can people learn about the river's beauty and fragility.

What's next isn't clear

Forest Service officials haven't said what the next step will be, whether they'll wait for the water level to fall or make another attempt soon.

Portadam is ready to try again, with a taller dam, and many locals say the company should be given free rein.

Trois works at it every day: phoning senators, rescuers, whomever.

"My girl is in the water. We want her out. That's as simple as I can make it.