In Georgia’s heart where waters glow,
A spring once shone with neon flow.
Radium Springs, a sight so rare,
With shimmering blue and glowing air.
At half past six on a warm May night,
Two Navy friends sought thrill and fright.
Donald Jaru, young and keen,
And Murray, twenty-eight and lean.
Though trained by force to brave the sea,
They dove for fun, wild spirits free.
Their gear homemade, no guides, no crew,
Just tanks and lights they waterproofed too.
In ’55, the sport was raw,
No safety laws, just risk and awe.
Yet danger called like siren’s song,
To places deep, unknown, and long.
That day, the spring called loud and clear,
Its depths uncharted, wrapped in fear.
The friends had mapped strange caves before,
But Radium held mysteries more.
With nods exchanged and minds aligned,
They left the sun and world behind.
They strapped their tanks, their fins, their light,
And plunged into the eerie night.
Seventy feet they dropped below,
Where sunlight fades and shadows grow.
A tunnel loomed, wide-mouthed and dark,
Their dive line spooled — a guiding mark.
They pressed ahead in pitch-black gloom,
A cave of silence, like a tomb.
Their lights could barely pierce the haze,
As swirling silt began to blaze.
Through velvet dark and muddy mist,
They ventured deep with clenched-up fists.
Then Donald felt a dreadful sign —
A bubbling leak from his air line.
He grabbed at gear in frantic grace,
But couldn’t see or find the place.
He tried to warn his buddy near,
But sound was lost beneath the fear.
He shook his friend with urgent plea,
Then turned and left reluctantly.
Back up the line, he kicked and flew,
And burst out in the glowing blue.
Above, he breathed with desperate air,
And fixed the leak with careful care.
Then down again with haste he sped,
To find his friend — alive or dead.
He reached the spot their line had led,
Expecting Murray up ahead.
But all was black — no friend in sight,
Just silt and void and choking night.
Two hundred feet, the line now ends,
And Donald knows he’s lost his friend.
He gropes along the cavern floor,
With panic knocking at death’s door.
Above him, silent, out of view,
Was Murray — heart still beating true.
They passed like ships through murky sea,
So close… yet lost in agony.
The silt concealed the final thread,
That might have led where safety bled.
And Murray, trapped in dark despair,
Could find no line, no light, no air.
Donald fled to bring back aid,
While Murray in the darkness stayed.
By dawn, the searchers swept the deep,
And found poor Murray, lost in sleep.
Just feet above the tether’s end,
So close to life, so far, my friend.
Disoriented, cold, and scared,
He’d swum right past the line they shared.
And so beneath that glowing tide,
Where radium’s secrets still abide,
A tale of courage, thrill, and loss,
Was paid beneath the waves — the cost.
Now divers tell with bated breath,
Of Radium’s strange dance with death.
Where glowing waters softly weep,
For Murray, lost in silence deep.