It was a dark night along the Missouri River, dark and quiet. A crime was going to be committed that need never have happened and likely would have never been uncovered until judgment day, had it not been for a group of grown up boys looking for treasure.

In 1856 the steamboat Arabia was heading up the Missouri river. Back in those days the river was wide and flat, also pretty muddy, and just perfect for a boat with a shallow draft. On board were folks heading out into the wild west to seek their fortune. It really was the frontier, too, with Indians and folks wandering about who were less than law abiding. Also in the hold were trading post goods, the sort of things manufactured back in the east all but impossible to buy out in the middle of nowhere.

At the time, folks on steamboats thought fuel was just a matter of pulling over to the bank, cutting down a few trees, and moving on. People didn’t think about the fact the stumps would die and then, unable to hold the soil, fall into the river. No, the walnut stump that formed a snag ahead of the Great White Arabia was uncharted and unexpected – and punched right into the hull as she steamed right over it.

The ship sank slowly, and without the loss of life. All except a mule that the owner said he had untied and tried valiantly to coax into the foamy, black river but the stubborn thing just wouldn’t save itself and went down with the ship. The passengers used the undamaged lading boats and everyone was ferried ashore safely, where they hiked down the riverbank to the small, newly established Kansas City and caught another boat. Insurance was paid, the shipwreck sank down into the river mud, and that’s the end of the story.

But that’s *not* the end of the story. A group of starry eyed Midwestern boys, er I mean men, always dreamed of finding treasure one day like they’d read about down in Florida. But Kansas is a long ways from there, so what to do? Well, the Army Corp of Engineers “fixed” the muddy Missouri. Boats with deep drafts couldn’t use it, so they narrowed it down, dredged out the mud and maintain it to this day. Over the course of time the river moved a few miles over – leaving a certain steamship buried 35 feet below a cornfield for these guys to dig up in 1988 (at a huge expense to themselves) and cart off to a museum in Kansas City that rivals any other museum of similar type. It was truly a time capsule, and except for cotton everything preserved almost perfectly. Rubber, glass, wool, iron, wood, everything. Imagine having a river-going Wal-Mart sink with all the items intact. What a fantastic find!

So what was the crime? One of the things also preserved was a certain mule. Clearly and solidly tied to the ship, in spite of what the handler (who collected the insurance money for it!) claimed. Instead of some sort of heroic effort on his part to save the animal, the man simply left it there to die, unwilling to risk his own life.

I bring this up because sometimes in the most fantastic, unbelievable ways the truth comes out. People LIE (the crime) but eventually it catches up with them. They think they got away with something, they believe no one will ever find out. But it is funny how someone just happens to run into you when you think you have all your bases covered coming out of wherever you were (a bar? a restaurant with a woman not your wife? ) and you get caught. In this case, a well preserved anchored harness still attached to a pile of mule bones.

You know, even if people don’t catch you in a lie, you won’t get away with it. God will know and in the end he will reveal all the things you have done. If you don’t’ repent, it won’t be the river that ends up being called Missouri.

Randy