When Steve Zmuda heard sirens and learned there was a shark attack incident on the beach, he started calling his friends. What he never expected was that the swimmer in question was his own daughter, 17-year-old Charlize Zmuda.
Steve recalled the time he learned the news every parent dreads. “I said ‘Is it a fatality… do we know them’ … ‘Steve I have to tell you, It’s Charlize’ … I said ‘you’re joking’… I screamed, all the neighbours came running out.”
Steve desperately tried to reach his wife, Rene. However, he couldn’t gather the strength to tell her that their daughter was the one killed in the shark attack.
“[Steve] couldn’t talk and I didn’t know what was going on … I screamed at him ‘just tell me!’ … not for one second thinking it would be…,” Rene Zmuda told the Daily Telegraph.
“I knew it was bad because he couldn’t speak… but in my head I was like ‘where do I need to be?’”
At that moment, Rene rushed to the ambulance because she needed to see her daughter herself in order to believe.
Related Posts
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
On 29 September 2025, Stacey gave birth to her first child, a son named Axel, at home. The delivery itself was successful, but shortly afterwards she experienced “an…
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
Chronic constipation can have serious negative health effects if ignored. Our digestive system breaks down the food we consume, allowing the body to absorb essential nutrients. During…
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
My husband has never been a “party guy,” but still, I wanted to organize a little celebration for his 40th birthday without him being aware of it….
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
It began with something small — or so I thought. After eight years of marriage, my husband, Ethan, mentioned he couldn’t sleep because I’d started snoring. He…
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
When I was sixteen, I thought I understood what cruelty looked like — until the night an entitled parent mocked my grandmother in front of everyone. My…
admin
·
November 5, 2025
·
Our little café isn’t fancy, but it’s filled with heart — mismatched chairs, warm laughter, and the lingering scent of cinnamon that seems to hold my dad’s…