A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 7

Mike Gnure and Lauren Ambryln were driving home from a party around midnight on highway 2 on a muggy August evening listening to Bruce Springsteen on the radio. I include this fact only because it was one that Lauren reiterated to me several times when I interviewed her a few weeks later. Whether she was attempting justify or validate her memories I cannot be sure. Perhaps she thought that I needed more evidence. Either way, Lauren assured me that she was listening to “Glory Days” when their vehicle blew a tire nearly at the intersection of 2 and 163. At this juncture both roads were largely long stretches of darkened pavement stretching off into the countryside. Farms dotted the roadsides. Just before the intersection the Portage River empties into Erie about a quarter of a mile to west.

Lauren managed to get the Dodge Journey over onto the shoulder and pulled to a stop. The road was largely deserted with only an odd set of headlights appearing every five minutes or so. Lauren got out to change the tire. Mike got out for moral support [she says this with a chuckle]. The air seemed thick and a strange glow was cast by the headlights catching off the vapor rising from hot asphalt. She had gotten all the lugnuts off save one partly rusted individual who stubbornly clung to the bolt. Putting all of her weight behind against the wrench and fighting off Mike’s attempts to help she had just felt the first twinge of the nut moving when the flash of headlights behind them appeared. The semi was probably still about a mile away but in the darkness of the countryside the headlights carried. Mike, (who Lauren is quick to describe as “not her boyfriend”) pushes at her should to and mumbles something about looking in front of them. She responds. About 300 feet in front of them, illuminated by the headlights of their car is the outline of what appears to be a man standing naked in facing them.

At this point, Lauren assures me that she never believed any of the “Mud-man stuff”. She is quite adamant about it actually but the image of this man whose face was obscured by the enveloping night and what may have been a thick beard. The whole affair lasted only seconds but still is etched in her memory. She says that she still can’t drive down an empty road at night without fighting off trembling. What seemed to strike her most pointedly was how still the man stood. She described it as being like “one of those aliens in the movies who just stand so unnaturally still. He didn’t move. It was like he wasn’t alive.”

The moment lasted only a few seconds. The flickering headlights marked the approach of the semi from behind them. Transfixed as they were at the pale motionless figure they hadn’t turned to watch the truck’s approach. With the screeching of tires their trance was broken. They turned just in time to see an SUV attempt to make a quick right hand turn off of Lakeshore drive. In spite of its speed, the vehicle ended up turning just in front of the semi, the driver of which tried to swerve to avoid it. In spite of the semi’s best efforts the two collided and the awkward angle of the cab and the friction of the road caused the truck to flip, mournfully slowly, onto its side.

Both Mike and Lauren describe the scene as essentially soundless as if they were floating in a vacuum. They could however feel the vibration as the truck tumbled onto its side. The SUV scraped along like a child’s toy before breaking free and tumbling into a roadside ditch. As the semi buckled in its unnatural slide it began to burn. It was about a quarter of a mile away when an explosion ripped through the semi sending shrapnel screaming through the air. A piece embedded itself in Lauren’s car’s bumper. In silence of the night the air rippled with heat. And there was calm. Lauren had never imagined a scene of such wreckage could be so serene. In the movies there were always sirens and police cars and screaming. Here, in the stillness of the night, in the immediacy of the moment, there was only light and heat.

In that moment, both Mike and Lauren felt the man’s eyes leave them. Neither could relate how they knew, but as they watched the wreckage of the crash and indeed the very lives of two drivers slip away they felt a sense of relief. The just knew that he or it was gone. Lauren looked first to confirm her suspicion. Mike ran to get his phone from the passenger seat. As Mike called for help, Lauren stared into the starkly empty night, the beams of her headlights illuminating a path in the darkness, empty and foreboding. All at once their ears were opened to the sounds: the sickening crackle of flame, the groaning creak of metal warping and bending, and the strains of The Boss ringing out into the night.

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 6

Of all the largely sensational (and most likely fictional) reports that came out of that next spring the most interesting is that of Colleen Dupree. Dupree was a 48 year old bank teller who would often frequent the Erie waterfront on her lunch breaks. In May of 2017 she was out walking the same shoreline (at roughly the same place on Magee Marsh as the initial report) at about 11:30am. As she walked the length of the berm she noticed a man walking towards her from the far end of the dike. This was not altogether interesting in any conventional way. The stretch of trail was heavily used by hiker, bikers, and birders. The man looked “very trim,” was not wearing a shirt, and sported a full black beard. At the onset Colleen took him to be a runner out on his lunch. There were often those who ran any number of routes through the area and besides, she had no objection to trim shirtless men.

As the man approached, Colleen offered a brief greeting. She could not remember if she had said “how are you doing?” or if the man had simply answered as if she had. The stranger hesitantly said, “I’m doing fine,” then added, “What brings you out today?” The words seemed to slide off his tongue like syrup escaping slowly a bottle. Colleen took note of that even then. The two were not standing beside each other. Colleen explained that she often liked to walk along the shore on her breaks. It allowed her a chance to get away from the concerns of the day. She had a bit of an anxiety problem, she explained, [in our interview she admitted that she rambled a bit both out of her own character flaw and also because the man was remarkably attractive] and here she could focus on her breathing and calm herself.

Reluctantly, the man looked out at the vast great lake with its sweeping aquamarine surface stretching out toward the horizon and said, “It can, it can. It can be an escape for the mind. It allows us to get away from the busyness of it all. We’ve trapped ourselves you know. We’ve trapped ourselves in the busy-ness and we’re starving to death.” With that the man trailed off, seemingly embarrassed that he had spoken so much. The pair exchanged pleasantries and each proceeded on their way. After a moment, Colleen, who has no recollection why she did so, turned to look at the attractive man. However, he was gone. Surely he could not have reached the far end of the berm even at a run. Either he had climbed down the embankment toward the marsh or towards the lake. Surely that must have been it, she conjectured. Colleen gave little thought the encounter and likely would not have reported it at all had it not been for the aforementioned article in the Toledo Blade. In hindsight, she too called in her story, though for certain, it did not bear very much in common with the initial bigfoot-like story that had been the impetus for the whole affair. Still, to this day, Colleen Dupree claims with absolute certainty that the shirtless man she had spoken to was indeed the Ohio Marsh Man.

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 5

As we now know, Prince Tovar went missing in August of 2016. It appears as though he discarded nearly all of his possessions. Though we do not know the exact sequence of events, it would seem that he made his way down the Detroit River on foot. He began to camp along the banks and at some point began consuming various herbs and fish (as per the coroner’s report of his stomach contents) in an attempt to survive. We do not know how Tovar, who did not enter into his journey with any specific knowledge of bush craft or edible wild plants, was able to survive, yet survive he did. He made his way down to the mouth of the Maumee River and sometime in September made a home of sorts in the Cedar Point National Wildlife Refuge.

From examining the remains of his camp it seems he stayed there for the better part of two months camping at the base of a fallen tree on an embankment near the open marsh. Interestingly, a spare set of clothes was found in a waterproof luggage-style bag. Apparently, as the weather cooled, Tovar made frequent trips into Toledo to scavenge food and other supplies to help him survive the winter. Though he kept the clothes for visits into the city, he seldom wore them in the marshes for the reports (disreputable as they are) almost invariable say that he wore shorts of some type without a shirt. Perhaps this was some deliberate act of de-humanization or perhaps it was simply a practicality since he was frequently submerged in his trips. Looking back through the gaze of history we can be tempted to draw any number of conclusions to his particular inclusion and preservation of the clothing, seeing it as some last vestige of the sophistication and culture that defined him as a young man at the height of his profession. Such conjecture, as interesting as it may be, is just that, conjecture.

Tovar improbably survived the winter in spite of his inexperience in wilderness survival and the bone-chilling wind and that come in off Lake Erie. His tiny alcove, more or less a pit in the upturned roots of a fallen tree, shielded him from the icy spray and afforded him some level of comfort. Few ventured out into the marsh during the dead of winter and his camp, being below ground level was hidden both from observers on the marsh-side and anyone who might approach from Erie. Even his fires, kept small, largely went unseen from shore. It seemed Tovar had been unnaturally blessed with good fortune in choosing such a location. Luck, it seemed, guided much of his existence over the course of the winter. 

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 4

Though the stories of the “Marsh Man” lingered throughout the summer, most relegated them to the realm of crypto-zoological curiosities that often clog the pathways of the internet. Due largely to the vast quantity of reports that, to greater or lesser degrees, were unverifiable, no greater investigation had occurred beyond the Fish and Wildlife Service’s initial survey. Increasingly fantastical calls came in from all along the coast of Lake Erie from Detroit to Cleveland. 

The morning of September 21^st was unseasonably warm. By ten o’clock, it was already a humid 83 degrees. It seemed that the summer refused to cede its throne to autumn. Hunters gathering in the Point Moulliee State Game Area in southeast Michigan to hunt waterfowl could move freely in shorts and t-shirts. The game area, constructed to both recreate the coastal wetlands (similar to Magee Marsh and others along the Ohio side of the lake) and to dispose of contaminated soil from harbor inlets, sat in the shadow of the Fermi II nuclear reactor. The cooling towers dominated the horizon to the south and seemed to glow in the rays of the sun.

Security officers Andrew Benhollow and Amanti Johnson were on duty that morning and manning the displays which contained feeds from the various cameras on the south side of the facility. These videos (which can be obtained via the Freedom of Information Act) continually cycle through the various angles throughout the complex. Specifically, the station occupied by officers Benhollow and Johnson contained the cameras facing lake-ward. There is a security perimeter around the plant indicated by floating buoys. It is not altogether uncommon (especially in the height of summer and during hunting season) for watercraft to unintentionally cross the security cordon. In these cases, a loudspeaker announces the trespass and (firmly) suggests an immediate retreat. As this does happen quite frequently, the two officers routinely scanned the lake for any irregularities.

At approximately 10:43am, Officer Johnson noticed an object floating in the water slightly beyond the plant’s perimeter. It appeared at first to be a log or capsized boat. Johnson zoomed in and saw that the object was instead partially clothed man swimming, or rather treading water about 500 feet out in Lake Erie. He alerted Officer Benhollow to the man who appeared to be in no distress and actually seemed to be looking in the direction of the towers. At 10:55, the officers placed a call to the Coast Guard upriver in Detroit. Though there appeared to be no immediate danger (the man was calm and seemed in good physical condition) the Coast Guard dispatched a vessel to intercept the man.

Just as Amanti Johnson was hanging up with the Coast Guard (10:58am, to be specific) alarms began to sound throughout the facility. There was initial a great deal of confusion (to be expected) but what came to be known was that the facility had suffered a partial meltdown. A steam explosion led to a primary pressure boundary fail. Debris from the failure was projected into the cavity below the nuclear core. Automatic water sprays were activated to keep the pressure down and the corium successfully cooled and returned to a solid state. In the end, less than 1 millisieverts of radiation (less than a chest X-ray or CT scan) was released throughout the complex.

Though obviously dangerous and costly, the ensuing chaos ensured that all attention was paid to the evacuation and containment efforts. The Coast Guard vessel was forced to turn back due to the risk of exposure. The figure spotted by Officers Johnson and Benhollow disappeared from cameras shortly after the first alarm sounded. Due to the need for secrecy and internal policing, the officers’ report was not made public until a reporter from the Detroit Free Press asked individuals about their experiences with the near-disaster. Once the article was published in November of that same year it gave a sense of legitimacy of the “Marsh Man” reports.

Anecdotally, I have been told that NEA officials, working in conjunction with the local branch of the FBI conducted their own search for this mystery man in the wake of the incident. No statement confirming this was ever issued. We can only speculatively question the intentions of the NEA/FBI in searching for the swimmer. 

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 3

Prince Eduardo Tovar, in spite of his regal designation was born to a thoroughly middle-class family in Monroe, Michigan in 1988. He was the first of six children to Maria and Steven Tovar who were both employed by the Monroe School District. The oldest by five years, Prince spent most of his adolescence taking care of his five younger sisters while his parents were away at work. Though the school year brought its share of turmoil and Prince had to balance, even at a young age, the demands of school and surrogate parenting. The summers however, were a different animal. Released from their obligations as English teacher and nutrition consultant, respectively, his mother and father made it a point to take their brood on at least one vacation a year.

In 1998, Prince found himself hiking with his father in the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone National Park. Buffeted by mountains and carpeted by sage, the valley seemed the most idyllic place the young man had ever found himself. The pair hiked for an hour in silence as the stunned Prince lacked the words to describe his experience. Back at the hotel later that night, a still shaken Prince ducked out amid the cries of his younger sisters and made his way down to the lobby. There he found an empty room and an abandoned grand piano. Though he had done little more than pluck away at a few keys over his lifetime, the boy sat and began to tap away making rudimentary melodies. To an outside observer, the results would have been little more than controlled chaos. To the young Prince, the instrument was a revelation; an outlet for the unexpressed thoughts and emotions.

Years later, Prince would explain to his college newspaper: “When I heard the sounds coming out of that beautiful, old instrument I felt I knew what human hands were meant to do. Even now, when I hear a performance, I feel we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing. We’re creating when all the rest of the world is destroying. We’re touching upon the work of the Creator rather than wallowing in the filth of earth.”

The even touched Prince and when they got home he implored his parents to let him take up the piano. Though it meant adjusting their work schedules, they made it so that their son could not only have a place to play, but even to procure the services of an instructor for a season. The boy himself was a revelation. After a rocky start due mostly to attendance issues, he quickly established himself as the star of the music program. His skill only increased as he progressed into middle school and later high school. By then of course he was already well on his way to college preparation. Never and outstanding student he made it his personal quest to finish high school with good enough grades to further his musical and academic progression. By the time he graduated in 2005 he had raised his GPA to 3.4 and was accepted to Wayne State.

If Prince’s discovery of music had shaped his adolescence, it was in college that his talent and particular determination began to shape his future. He spent the majority of his time at Old Main in the practice rooms though, it should be noted, that he did have a inner circle of friends he spend considerable time with. He was not what anyone would describe as a loner. Rather, he possessed a rare combination of determination and affability rare among highly focused individuals. He enjoyed other disciplines in particular finding interesting in philosophical and historical interests.

It was performing where his heart lay however. His performance of Chopin’s Barcarole in F sharp major, Op. 60 at his junior recital was something of a coming out party as it invited numerous alumni and dignitaries of his caliber. One such visiting dignitary of was Claudette Marais of the Philadelphia Orchestra who passed along her approving review of the young pianist to colleague Leonard Slatkin of the Detroit Symphony. Though they would not meet for a full year later, Slatkin kept a keen eye on the young musician and upon his graduation, offered him a contract for the 2009-10 season.

We may here summarize the next few years of Mr. Tovar’s life as it was a period of adjustment and flourishing. In the confines of his life as a performer Prince found purpose and direction. He also found an inner voice that found its outlet in the musician’s strike of 2010-2011. Though he persevered through it, emerging from it as not only one of the most talented in the company (he had nearly always been that) but also one of the most vocal. A natural leader, he developed powerful and forceful demeanor that married inexplicably with his naturally modest personality. It was a strange mix to say the least but in this remarkable man it was nonetheless true. Friends who knew him at the time spoke to the fact that while they tended to respond to his words, they never felt bullied, strong-armed, or even particularly resentful. Prince Tovar simply was, in their estimate, of the most humble yet commanding people they had ever known.

Readers will of course know that sometime in late summer of 2016, Prince Eduardo Tovar disappeared. Following several days of absence, police, having been contacted by friends and fellow performers, entered his apartment in the Sugar Hill Historic District to find it largely empty of personal belongings. Remaining was a strange effigy of a man made out of clothing arraigned in the outline of a well-dressed professional (shirt, tie, pants, shoes, etc.) and his vast collection of vinyl records. Even linens and window dressings had been removed. Police, family, and friends could make little sense out of the strange leavings. There were no signs of distress or struggle and because of the state of his affairs, none was expected. The investigation into Tovar’s departure was kept open though no new leads were found.

Over the years, many of those who knew him claimed to know why the young, seemingly well-balanced musician would disappear. We will recount the primary two theories posited here supported by some of those who knew him best.

The first comes by way of Rebekah Saille, a fellow student at Wayne State who kept up with Tovar after their graduation, meeting every few months with a group of former classmates. “Prince really was disturbed by all the disruption in the world,” Saille told investigators in the months after Tovar’s departure. “He didn’t know how to deal with it all. He felt like he should. With all the terrorist attacks in Europe and racial injustice here he felt like there was something that he should be doing. It really troubled him. Sometimes when we got together it was all he could talk about. He was desperately trying to find some way to rationalize his own life within the context of so much suffering worldwide.” When asked how this might have led to Tovar’s disappearance, Rebekah conjectured, “Right before he left [note that she never said ‘disappeared’] it was when Belgium got hit with that string of attacks in Brussels, the one at the EU. I know how those kinds of things had affected him before. I think that was it, that was what pushed him over the top. He felt like he had no choice, that he had to do something.”

When pressed on how she could be so certain of Tovar’s motivations and indeed his actions, which at that time were still very much uncertain, Saille could offer no logical explanation.

Another explanation was given via an email received only several months ago. Delivered anonymously, a source who wished not to be identified contact this writer to set up a meeting. Sitting at coffee shop in downtown Monroe on a sunny June day, the source asserted that Tovar’s flight and subsequent actions were not taken as frustration to the state of the world but rather a rejection of the state of his own soul. “He couldn’t live with himself. That’s the part that nobody knew. To everyone else he was this immensely talented musician- a celebrity really, in the arts world. Everybody knew what he was and no one knew what he was.” When pressed for details, the source declined but continued. “He couldn’t live with the darkness in himself. Sure, he was troubled at the darkness in the world, but what he couldn’t escape was the darkness in himself. He always saw music as an escape, as the purest form of beauty. It was what we were made for- to create beauty. I think for a long time that music was enough pacify himself, to justify his actions. Music was his way of atoning for his sins. Eventually though something pushed him over the edge, some action he took and in the end the music wasn’t enough anymore. He had to take extreme action.”

We will never know the true reasons Prince Tovar took the actions that he did. The truth lies buried with him now. We are left with only conjecture and speculation as to his motivations. Whether the history we now know was the result of feelings of impotence to affect change in a rapidly destabilizing world rife with violence and oppression or whether it was some kind of personal penance over past misdeeds hidden from the light to this this day we cannot ascertain. We have now only the myopic gaze of history. We put our trust in proofs as much as Tovar put his trust in beauty and the act of creating. Will our faith be found wanting as some claim Tovar’s was? These are questions for philosophers and speculators. While we still may, we deal in ink and fact.

Until September 4^th, 2020, Tovar’s disappearance was a deeply troubling mystery for the arts community in Detroit and for those who knew him. The pain lingered. The mystery endured. It was not until that tragic day that the fate of Prince Eduardo Tovar was known to the public. It was not until that day that his own story found its conclusion. Yet even with the finality we now possess, there are deep mysteries and questions that linger. 

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man Part 2

The first reported sighting of what would come to be known as the “Marsh-man” occurred in the spring of 2017. A couple out for an evening stroll along the path at Magee Marsh on the shore of Lake Erie, Ohio’s northern coast witnessed what appeared to be a partly clothed adult male cross the pathway about a quarter mile ahead of them. The figure emerged from the lake’s rocky surf and descended again into the marsh immediately opposite. Though initially startled, the couple approached the spot where the figure disappeared. The reeds and other foliage did indeed appear disturbed and (according to them) the birds seemed unnaturally quiet. The couple reported their sighting to the Toledo Blade (who quite naturally disregarded it out of hand) and later to the Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization who dispatched a “qualified” investigator to survey the scene. Field investigator August Richards, who met with the couple (who opted to have their names withheld) two weeks later, reported:

I met with the couple two weeks after their encounter. The marsh had changed slightly due to spring growth but remained largely the same. On the lakeside of the path the shoreline is made up of broken concrete slabs. To Southward marsh side there are patches of open water interspersed with various cat-tails and other reeds. The water at its deepest point in the marsh is only 5 feet seemingly too shallow to support a full grown subject submerged. Still the couple maintained their story with few alterations even after several weeks of distance.

It was not until a second report was made nearly a month later that the Ohio Fish and Wildlife Service viewed the incidents with any credulity. In the second report, a group of five birders in town for the spring migration were walking the boardwalk in the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge only a few miles down the coast from Magee Marsh, around dusk. As they were making their exit of the refuge, they decided to take one last look over the coastal plain from one of the observation towers. Looking northward, they saw what at first appeared to be a deer struggling in the weeds. They broke out their binoculars and found that it was not a deer but rather a full grown man pulling a partially submerged log from the marsh. Lit by the crimson glow of the sunset he appeared to be covered in blood due to the water dripping from his body. As the birders watched, the man struggled with the log for nearly a minute before, apparently growing anxious from the exposed nature of his position, turned and made his way in a slight trot down the embankment and behind a row of cottonwoods. Had they not witnessed the entire scene, they might have thought the man was simply a jogger out for a twilight run, for he wore a pair of seemingly clean shorts. The observers waited another twenty minutes until the light finally fled completely but caught no further sight of the strange man.

When the Blade was informed of the second report they sent their own reporter to shadow the Fish and Wildlife Service’s own investigation. The search yielded nothing but the absence of evidence did not stop Blade reporter Laura Kirsch from penning a story with the headline: “Mystery Man Stalks Maumee Swamp.” Though buried on the fourth page of the Lifestyle section, the article, no more than a short synopsis of the first, more fantastical report, was widely enough read to generate a dozen similar reports over the next two months. Thus the legend of the Ohio Marsh Man was born.

A Plain Account of the Ohio Marsh Man - Prelude

Much ink has been spilled recounting the curious case of the so-called Ohio Marsh-man. Most of what has been recorded has, of course, been sensationalized, which is to be expected considering the state of media in an increasingly decentralized digital world and the already sensational nature of the incident. We will attempt, here in these pages, to compile the most accurate and unbiased account of these remarkable and tragic events. There will, by necessity, be elements to which there may be no definitive answer. In these situations we will rely upon the most likely scenarios and embellish with conjecture as little as possible. We believe that there is in understanding the depth and nuance of this story, rather than simply its oddity and controversial elements, we can learn more about this polarizing individual and, perhaps, ourselves.