The Associated Press recently reported that the LaPorte police found a 4-foot alligator swimming in Northern Indiana’s Pine Lake.

The reptile frightened two stalwart Indiana fishermen, whose little girl-like screaming was reported to police by a passing motorist. No one knows for sure where the animal came from, but authorities theorize the alligator may be an escaped pet, like one of those New York City sewer alligators from urban legend.

This news about an Indiana gator is somewhat unsettling. After living in Florida for many years, I convinced my wife, Diane, that one of the major benefits of coming to Indiana was the absence of alligators. But now the alligators apparently have migrated northward and no place is safe. In the past two years, gators have also been reported in lakes in Illinois, Massachusetts and even Wisconsin, Diane’s home state.

We just got one of those inner tube-like things, that you pull through the water with your boat, with riders hanging on to it. With your feet dangling in the water, it now seems too much like trolling for alligators.

Alligators got their name from the early Spanish explorers, who called them el lagarto, or “the lizard.” In Florida, there is about one gator for every nine residents, and more than 7,000 a year are destroyed under Florida’s nuisance alligator law.

A nuisance gator is one that is 4 feet or longer and is perceived to be a threat to people or pets. More than 20 fatal alligator attacks have been reported in Florida since 1948, when accurate records began to be kept.

People are often tempted to keep gators as pets. According to writer Peggy Robbins, alligators are known as the “yard dog of the south.” In the past, young alligators were often caught by residents of southern wetland regions. When they got too big, they were turned loose in nearby streams, and according to local belief, they would return to protect their home territory from intruders.

Diane’s Florida friend, Marie, often told a story about how, as a child, she would frequently catch the gator that lived in the pond on their property. Wrestling the writhing gator down, she would yell to her mother to get the camera.

Celebrities have always been interested in exotic pets. Roman emperors kept leopards and Michael Jackson and Elvis had chimpanzees — Bubbles and Scatter, respectively. At the turn of the century, the famous French actress Sarah Bernhardt kept an alligator for a pet, until it swallowed her beloved Manchester terrier and her secretary was forced to shoot it.

According to Diane, alligators in Indiana are nothing new either. Ed Howard, a descendant of the local Steamboat-building pioneers, kept two alligators as pets in the cistern of the Howard Mansion along Market Street in Jeffersonville for many years, until they died in the great flood of 1937.

Perhaps they got cold or maybe the hibernating gators were wrapped too tight in expensive rugs when they were carried up to the grand staircase landing, when the water started rising.

When we lived in Florida, several of our friends had run-ins with gators. One friend hunted down an alligator that was harassing his horses. He said the gator’s eyes appeared a horrifying bright red when he shone his flashlight across his pond at night.

Jim, a co-worker in Orlando, lived near a lake. One day he got a call from his neighbor, who told him that he needed to come home right away because his dog was being chased by a alligator. People who lived by water in Florida could go through a lot of

Chihuahuas.

A wildlife officer at the Suwannee River once told us that gators especially loved to eat dogs. He said the most foolish thing you could do, if you were tubing down the Suwannee, was to bring along your dog. It was like giving a written invitation to the gators, who would sometimes go after dogs and bite people by mistake.

Legend has it that American Indians trained their dogs to serve as decoys to distract gators, so they could safely cross streams.

While in Florida, I’ve seen alligators in bodies of water where we swam, but never when we were actually in the water. I once saw a large eel when swimming underwater in a Florida spring. People watching said I came out of the water faster than I had dove into it.

And once snorkeling on the Ichetucknee River, a huge river otter swam right by me. In zoos, I always thought otters were cute, but face-to-face in the wild, they just look like enormous rats.

Wildlife experts warn not to kill, harass or attempt to move alligators, since the potential for being bitten is high. In Florida, children had to be closely supervised when playing in or around water, and people could only swim during daylight hours.

Dusk and dawn is when alligators most actively feed. Diane and I once took a boat ride in Myakka State Park in South Florida and the tour guide said that when the sun went down, there were only two things on the lake — alligators and alligator food.

According to conservation officers, the most important thing is to never feed gators. This causes them to overcome their natural fear of humans and even become attracted to people. It is illegal to intentionally feed alligators in many states.

People should always keep a safe distance from gators of 30 feet or more. Although they often appear sluggish, alligators can easily run up to 30 mph.

Diane likes to jump off the diving platform at the lake where we swim. Personally that doesn’t appeal to me, because when I was a kid, I repeatedly heard the local myth about a boy who jumped off a diving platform in Carlinville Lake and landed in a huge ball of entangled snakes.

I had just about worked through that image, but now I have to worry about alligators — again. I can promise one thing, if I do see one, I will be the one screaming like a little girl.



Terry L. Stawar, Ed.D., lives in Georgetown and is the CEO of LifeSpring, the local community mental health center in Jeffersonville. He can be reached at tstawar@lifespr.com or 812-206-1234. Check out his “Welcome to Planet-Terry” podcast at www.lifespr.com/podcast.