City Pool

                                 Photo of abandoned Gary pool by 

travisdewitz.com

 

It was so hot. The sidewalks were hot. The streets were hotter. But the reward was so very worth it.

We walked, a rag tag group of pre teens, towels draped over our shoulders, thru the neighborhoods in our swim suits on our way to the public pool. It was at least a mile, maybe closer to two, with not a breath of air.

 
The Gary, Indiana suburb of Glen Park was a pretty nice place back in the day. Mowed yards, sidewalks and tall yard trees that provided just enough shady spots to keep us going. We dashed from one shade patch to the next past the big brick houses and detached garages. Dogs barked listlessly and went back under their porches. It was just too hot to get very excited.

The clunky window air was the only relief at the house, unless you counted the cool blast from the refrigerator when I opened it to steal a quick breath of cold. Just the idea of the cool pool water made us move a little faster.

The last 1/4 mile to the pool was a stretch of sizzling black pavement that made our cheap rubbery flip flops stick if we didn’t pick up our feet fast enough. Go too slow and we could feel the heat thru the thin pink soles.

 

The sound of the screaming kids, splashing, and an energetic life guard whistle punctuating the uproar drew us. 

We paid to get in, I think it was a quarter, and were given a numbered square wire basket for our ‘valuables’. I had a watch. An actual real watch with a second hand. It had been a Christmas/birthday gift and I loved it. I wore it everywhere. It went in the basket with my glasses. 

Some wet benches were available for those who had to change. We didn’t dawdle too long in the steamy ‘girls side’ with tiny windows up high on the walls, we were ready for that cool blue water.

Every square inch of concrete was wet. Peeling blue paint decorated the block walls of the pool office. Towels were laid out on the wet concrete as if it was a beach. An elevated life guard throne gave the muscular bronze teenager who sat there an air of ultimate authority.

As hot as it was, I could never just jump in. I had to gradually submerge myself an inch at a time into the cold water. Funny, in just a few minutes the water no longer felt even cool. 

It was wall to wall kids of every color, size and shape. 

Like a soup of kids simmering in the sunshine. Thankfully the babies with their saggy wet diapers had their own pool. 

Swimming lessons never helped me. I remember as a little girl begging my mother not to let water get on my face when she rinsed my hair. I couldn’t stand the feeling of water in my ears. I guess I can’t say that it never helped me. I did learn to put my face in the water and kick my feet. But the coordinated swimming movements coupled with actual floating were beyond me. I didn’t float. I sank like a stone. But I could splash and squeal when the boys splashed us. 

There wasn’t really any room for real swimming anyway. Except for one place. 

The diving well was in an ‘L’ off of the main section of the pool separated by a very official floating rope. The bigger kids waited in line for their turn to jump off of one of two boards into the ‘deep water’. The big splashes when someone did a cannon ball would send water shooting onto the concrete pool deck all around. 

It was so impressive! We watched them. Envious. But, they were just jumping in. Nothing special. No big trick to that. We tried jumping in from the side of our kiddie section of the pool. I did it! I went under water and got my face and ears wet and it was just fine. Felt kinda good.
 And someone said, “I bet we can jump off the low board and it would be just the same.” 

“Oh no, that part of the pool is way too deep!” 

“But, it’s not even that far from the edge, we can make it to the side.” 

“What, are you chicken?” 

 And so it went, until we had meandered over to the deep side of the pool.
“Are you in line or not?” the teenagers asked.
“Move out of the way if you are not going to go!”
And so we moved forward in the line.
It was my turn. I could feel all the eyes upon me as I struggled with the thought. All I could hear...”Go on!” “Don’t be a sissy” “get out of line if you aren’t going to go, you are holding up the line” “Chicken!”
 And so I reached for the rungs of the stainless steel ladder that would take me up onto the board. I climbed. I was on the board. I walked out to the end...and realized I was on the high dive!
“Go!” someone yelled. And I jumped... I sank like a stone all the way to the bottom of the pool. I could see the sparkle of sunlight on the pool surface. But it was so far away. I was going to die.

In a moment of incredible clarity, I realized that the side of the pool really was very close. So I crawled. I crawled across the bottom of the pool towards the side. I looked up and could see the bottom of the pool ladder. What luck. If only I could reach it. I was just tall enough to grab that bottom rung. I pulled myself out of that pool just as the darkness was closing in.
I broke the surface, coughing, choking and gasping for air. But I made it.

 
And no one noticed.

When I went to get my basket to go home, my watch was gone.