River of Jordan

River musings from the shores of the Willamette River

Jul 20, 2022

I grew up daydreaming on the banks of the Jordan River on our family farm near Bluffdale, Utah. Our river was quite different than its namesake, the River of Jordan, the holy river for Christians where John baptized Jesus or for the Jews who crossed the Jordan to be delivered to the promised land. Our Jordan River was where we played amongst the cattails and where we built rafts, swam, and fished for carp and catfish. The river separated our fields from the railroad track where one time our favorite horse Amos was hit and killed by the train. We stayed on our side of the river mainly.

Our Jordan River flows fifty-one miles sending freshwater from Utah Lake, through the Jordan Narrows where our farm was and then along the west side of Salt Lake City, finally ending up in the Great Salt Lake, the great inland sea. Early explorers thought they had found a portal to the Pacific but alas, the Great Salt Lake is merely a big salt puddle left from the pre-historic Lake Bonneville. The other River of Jordan is similar in that it runs into the Dead Sea after 156 miles from the Sea of Galilee.

We loved our Jordan River, but it was hardly sacred. When I was young, raw sewage from Salt Lake City was pumped directly into the river, thankfully downstream from us. The river was eventually cleaned up but today its tree-lined shores have become camps for the homeless.

Carter Family

Just love the way the Carter family sings, “River of Jordan.” I’m charmed when they sing Jordan as Jer-don. Listening to the words I imagine a big celebration down by the shores of the river, a feast at the welcome table, the congregation singing with a heavenly choir, donning silver slippers, and then sitting down with the man himself, Jesus. Then the song ends abruptly. I always wanted to know what happened next.

Willamette River

an unusually tranquil morning on the river

As you know, if you’ve been reading my Boosts this summer Teresa and I are living on the banks of the Willamette River. For the first couple months we lived in a wonderful floating home on a moorage about a dozen miles north of the City of Portland. When it came time for our hosts, John and Carol, to move back, we relocated to a condo downtown, also on the river.

We are now living on the greater Port of Portland where big ships can navigate up the Columbia from Astoria. It is endlessly busy, mostly with recreational boats but this past Saturday night a large cargo ship docked directly across the river as we slept. Named the Petra, it flies the flag of the Marshall Islands. Coincidentally the ship is named after the ancient Jordanian city of Petra which is also called Rose City, just like Portland. We sit on our deck with Teresa’s new monocular which I call a spy glass and we make up romantic stories about the Petra and its world voyages. We still hold a dream of crossing the ocean on a freighter one day.

The Petra flying the flag of the Marshall Islands

The river here is wide and deep and is rarely as calm as our former riverside home. Portland is also called the City of Bridges because there are so many that cross the Willamette. We live on the edge of the Steel Bridge with its innovative rising deck built in 1912. A more traditional bascule or drawbridge, the Broadway Bridge, is a mile downstream. Our condo complex runs the entire distance between the bridges. The walkway below our windows goes for miles along the shore as the river flows through the City.

Our friends in Portland are so damn polite. When I wrote my last Boost claiming to live on the banks of the Willamette River, it turned out I had my geography wrong. It was a long time before anyone told me. When I finally consulted a map I found we were actually moored on the Multnomah Channel. Only a few miles upriver, the Willamette makes a right-hand turn on the southern edge of Sauvie Island before joining the mighty Columbia.

Going with the Flow or Crossing Over

This is my second Boost on the allure of rivers. Last time I sited a favorite poetic refrain by Eugene Ware, “No matter how long the river, the river will reach the sea.” That line and its metaphorical power speaks to me.

Flow has always been intriguing. Somehow, music is all about flow. We generally go with the flow and if we are fortunate enough, we don’t capsize too many times and find good fishing holes along the way. Sometimes we find ourselves fighting the current which can both be good or a waste of energy.

For many, the flow of the river is less important than how to cross to the other side. Recently a refrain from Juan de la Cruz came to my attention. Known as the Mystical Doctor, he lived from 1542-1591 and was a Spanish Carmelite friar. He was canonized in 1726. I was Cannonized at birth. De la Cruz or Saint John of the Cross is known for his mystical poems examining the essentials of the soul. By the way, don’t miss the animated film, “Soul,” for a lovely take on the subject.

I’ll end by citing his refrain and including a few photos of what we see out our window. Have a lovely end to your week.