They did not know each other. I was taking the picture of my Uncle Marty when that lady appeared. My uncle asked her what was wrong when he noticed her right after the picture was taken. She said that she couldn't find her son. I looked left and then right down the beach and then out into the water. I saw my uncle running as the lady continued to wander nervously. She began to cry. I ran to the edge of the water as a wave pulled away. The sand sunk beneath my heels. My uncle brought her son back from down the beach. The boy had walked and walked away from where his mother had been sitting. The boy was carrying a red dump truck in his left hand and a handful of sand in his right. My uncle looked like a superhero as he handed the boy back to his mother.