The Little Boy that Stuck His Thumb in the (Levee)

I recently read an article about Dutch folktales, and much to my surprise, learned that the famous story about the little boy that saved the town from the encroaching sea is not a Dutch story at all, but an American invention by the author of Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates. This story was part of my “Children’s Bookshelf of Great Literature”. T and I found that we both had the same set of stories growing up and we have my old one on our family bookshelf for the kids.

If you are unfamiliar with the legend, here is a brief synopsis:

A little boy coming home from a neighbor's house late at night stops in the woods near the massive dike that is holding back the sea from overcoming his industrious little village. As he pauses to pick up a stone, he hears a trickle of running water and soon finds that the dike has a small hole in it. The brave little boy knows his duty to the town and immediately sticks his finger (usually his thumb) into the dike to prevent the hole from growing larger and breaking open a great inlet for the sea. Though he is tired and hungry - and chilled to the bone by the frigid water that has made him thumb grow numb and swollen - he does not leave his post 'til a pastor spots him on his way home from town the next day. The boy is a hero; but in true Dutch fashion, not someone to be idolized ....only an example of what we all should do.
Even though this is an American story (fictionally told to Hans Brinker and his classmates one day in school), there are at least 2 statues honoring the “little boy that did his duty” in the Netherlands. Both are the work of City councils trying to make a bit of coin and give the American Tourists something to look at after they buy their wooden shoes and look at the windmills.

One of the reasons that this story has never taken hold in the Netherlands (except for the tourist statues) is that our understanding of what a dike is (a stone or concrete wall) differs from the reality of giant sand dunes and sluice gates that hold back the sea in Holland. Water walls similar to the ones described in the story are found alongside some rivers or by a lake – but never the ocean.

I’m not usually a “current events” blogger; and perhaps I’ve waited long enough since Hurricane Katrina to avoid sounding like a trend following purveyor of self-righteous glurge. Still when all the mess was happening in the 9th Ward, I couldn’t help but think of the little boy that did his duty. There has already been enough (rather bigoted) commentary about the actions and reactions of the residents of New Orleans to the catastrophe and I don’t mean to rehash that. Instead, as I usually do here on the dashboard, I’ll wonder aloud how I would have reacted in the midst of flooding – assuming for some reason I was still in the city when the levies broke.

How do I determine my “duty”? How far would I have gone to help myself, my family, and my fellow man? My company let us know that if we had specialized skills that could help during the first few weeks after the disaster, we could make arrangements with the company to take leave (sometimes – even paid) to go and help. I know of a few that went to help loved ones or participated with their family members that were already on the scene helping with relief groups and other NGOs. It bothered me a bit that I never once considered going or asking myself if there was anything I could do.

My limited knowledge of engineering (which would fit nicely in a pocket-sized first aid kit) tells me that there was nothing that a single person or several hundred persons could have done the night of the hurricane to keep the levees from breaking. Still, the haunting faux legend of a little boy and his thumb shames me.