On a warm July night in Pascagoula, Mississippi, a routine stretch of time near the river shifted into a life-or-death emergency that would test endurance, judgment, and courage. The setting was the Pascagoula River near a quiet boating area in Moss Point, where the waterway meets an I-10 boat ramp and the darkness can blur the line between pavement and open water. At about 2:30 a.m., a vehicle carrying three teenage girls traveled down the unlit ramp and plunged into the river, turning a calm shoreline into a scene of immediate danger.
Within minutes, a 16-year-old high school student named Corion Evans stepped into a role that would alter the outcome for everyone involved. His choices in those moments—made without hesitation and under extreme pressure—led to four people reaching shore alive, including a police officer who later found himself in trouble in the same water he had entered to help.
The ramp where the incident unfolded sits where solid ground transitions directly into the river. In low light, the path can appear continuous, and on that night the driver of the car followed navigation directions that suggested the route continued straight ahead. The vehicle rolled off the end of the ramp, hit the water, and floated roughly 20 feet from shore before beginning to sink. The river at that point is deep and known for strong currents, conditions that can overwhelm even confident swimmers.
The three passengers managed to escape the car and climb onto its roof as it settled lower in the water. From there, they shouted for help into the quiet night. The distance to shore, the movement of the river, and the gradual loss of buoyancy created a narrow window for rescue.
Evans was nearby when he noticed the commotion. He heard the voices and saw the outline of the vehicle in the river. Without stopping to weigh options, he kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, set his phone down on the bank, and ran into the water. He had been swimming since early childhood, a background that gave him familiarity with moving water and the confidence to act, but the Pascagoula River is not forgiving. The current tugged at him with each stroke, and the surface concealed the force beneath.
Reaching the stranded car meant pushing against that pull, yard by yard. The girls were still on the roof, trying to keep their balance and conserve energy. The task was not simply to reach them, but to bring them back safely through water that could drain strength quickly. A friend of Evans, identified in local coverage as one of the Bradley brothers, also entered the river and helped from behind, providing support to keep the girls above water and assisting with the long swim back.
The rescue unfolded one person at a time. Each trip required focus and stamina, and each return toward shore demanded careful timing and steady effort. The river did not pause, and neither could they. One of the girls later described how close she felt to losing consciousness, saying Evans saved her “right before my last breath,” a phrase that captured the urgency of the moment and the narrow margin separating rescue from tragedy.
By the time the third girl reached the bank, the situation seemed to be stabilizing. Emergency responders were arriving, and attention turned to ensuring everyone could be brought out of the water safely. A local police officer, Garry Mercer, entered the river to assist with the remaining efforts. In the confusion, one of the girls panicked while he was trying to guide her, and the movement caused him to lose his footing. He swallowed water and began to struggle as the current pushed against him.
Evans, already exhausted from multiple trips across the river, heard the call for help. Instead of staying on shore, he turned back toward the water and swam out again. The same current that had challenged him earlier now stood between him and a second rescue target. He reached Officer Mercer and used the same steady approach he had used with the girls, guiding him back toward shallower ground until the officer could stand and move under his own power.
When the last person reached the bank, the immediate danger finally receded. Four people—the three teenage girls and Officer Mercer—were alive because of a series of rapid decisions and sustained effort in difficult conditions. Paramedics examined everyone on scene and transported them to a local hospital, where they were treated for water inhalation and exhaustion. All were later reported to be recovering.
Evans felt the toll of the night as well. Repeated swims against the current had drained his energy, and the adrenaline that carried him through the rescues began to fade. Even so, he remained composed as the full scope of what had happened became clear.
In the days that followed, the community recognized the actions that changed the outcome of the incident. At a city meeting, Mayor Billy Knight and the Moss Point Board of Aldermen presented Evans and Officer Mercer with Certificates of Commendation, acknowledging their courage and the risks they took. Police Chief Brandon Ashley also spoke about the significance of the teenager’s response, saying, “If Corion had not assisted, it could have possibly turned out tragically instead of all occupants being rescued safely.”
The attention placed Evans in a spotlight he had not sought. He described his decision in simple terms, saying he “couldn’t just let them die.” The statement reflected the straightforward reasoning that guided him into the river, even as the circumstances demanded far more than ordinary effort.
The incident highlighted several realities about emergencies near water. Boat ramps and river access points can become hazards when visibility is low and navigation is unclear. Strong currents and cold water can sap strength quickly, making even short distances dangerous. In such environments, seconds matter, and the presence of someone willing and able to act can change everything.
Evans’ background as a swimmer played a crucial role. Years of comfort in the water allowed him to judge distance, pace his effort, and manage the physical strain. That preparation did not remove risk, but it gave him tools to respond effectively under pressure. His friend’s decision to enter the river as well added another layer of support, turning a solo effort into a coordinated push toward safety.
The rescue also underscored the unpredictable nature of emergencies. Even trained responders can encounter sudden trouble, as Officer Mercer did when the situation shifted in the water. The willingness of a civilian to re-enter danger to help a rescuer illustrated how quickly roles can reverse and how teamwork can bridge those moments.
Beyond the immediate facts, the night left a lasting impression on the Pascagoula and Moss Point communities. Residents shared messages of support and admiration, and the story circulated as an example of how ordinary people can step into extraordinary circumstances. The river returned to its usual rhythm, the ramp reopened to daily use, and the physical signs of the incident faded, but the account of what happened remained.
For the three girls, the memory includes both fear and relief. The image of their car slipping into the river and the effort to stay afloat on its roof stands alongside the sight of someone swimming toward them in the dark. For Officer Mercer, the night carried a reminder of how quickly conditions can change and how assistance can come from unexpected places.
For Evans, the experience became a defining moment early in his life. At 16, he demonstrated a level of composure and determination often associated with far more seasoned responders. The recognition he received did not change his explanation for acting, which stayed rooted in a simple sense of responsibility toward others.
The broader lesson extends beyond one riverbank. Water safety education, clear signage at access points, and awareness of how navigation tools can mislead in certain environments all play roles in preventing similar incidents. At the same time, the event showed the value of preparation and the impact of decisive action when prevention fails.
Courage in emergencies rarely looks dramatic in the moment. It appears as movement toward risk rather than away from it, as focus when panic would be easier, and as persistence when fatigue sets in. On that July night, those qualities were visible in every trip Evans made across the Pascagoula River and in the support offered by others who joined the effort.
The certificates presented by city leaders served as formal recognition, but the true measure of the night lay in four people walking out of a hospital rather than being counted among the river’s victims. The outcome rested on a chain of actions that began with one teenager noticing a problem and choosing to respond.
Years from now, the details may blur—the exact position of the car, the number of strokes it took to reach shore, the sequence of shouts in the dark. What will remain is the example set by a young person who acted when action mattered most. His words, “couldn’t just let them die,” capture the directness of that choice, while the community’s response shows how deeply such moments resonate.
In a world where headlines often focus on conflict or loss, this episode stands as a reminder of the difference one person can make. The Pascagoula River continued to flow the next morning, and life along its banks returned to routine. Yet for everyone involved, the memory of that predawn rescue remains a marker of what can happen when skill, resolve, and compassion meet at the edge of danger.