Woody cruiser

Jerk

As a kid, I loved to swim and spend time at the Abilene swimming pool. Most years, we bought season passes, and almost every day during the summer months, I would walk halfway across town to the pool. Of course, that’s when it was perfectly safe for kids to walk unaccompanied by an adult without fear of being abducted or worse. During my first week or so at the pool, I would almost always develop a sunburn, which would eventually turn into a dark tan. I never even thought about using sunscreen or suntan lotions.

It was an ordinary, scorching hot day at the pool when a terrifying incident left a lasting impression on me. It was all due to a class-A jerk, the local bully. I must have been in the fourth or fifth grade. There I was, minding my own business along the pool’s edge, bobbing up and down and periodically going underwater in the five-foot section of the pool. I was just doing what kids do at that age in swimming pools, and no, I wasn’t peeing.

I went underwater, and to my surprise, a hand grabbed the back of my neck and began to hold me under. Who the hell, and why, is someone holding me underwater? I thought whoever was doing this would surely let go soon. So I held my breath for as long as I possibly could.

Thoughts poured through my mind. Why doesn’t he let go? I’m going to drown. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I instinctively opened my mouth, gasping for air but sucked in water instead. It was an awful feeling, helpless and suffocating. Panic set in. I felt like I was only moments away from death. I began to struggle violently, attempting to pry off his hand on the back of my neck as I fought to escape. All the while sucking in water.

He finally released me, maybe because he figured I wasn’t worth going to prison for. When I rose out of the water, I instantly began forcefully ejecting water from my mouth and slowly began to breathe again.

I remember seeing the person who attacked me walk away. I knew who he was, but I only remember his last name, McMillon. He was an older kid, well-known as a bully, and for some reason, he had it out for me and, I bet, probably others.

I feel like after that incident, I know what it’s like to drown. It’s awful, probably right up there with burning to death. But you know, even after that, I still loved to swim. I’ve never had a fear of water, only heights! I was too stubborn to let fear take away something I loved. ❦

Displacement

I loved diving off the top board at the swimming pool. I would jump as hard as I could on the board to get enough spring to propel me through the air and into the water. For just a few seconds, it gave me a feeling of flying. When going off the board, I would usually dive or do a Preacher’s Seat ( hitting the water in a sitting position ), producing a tall vertical splash if done right. Underwater, I’d hear a loud ka-boom from the instant water displacement.

There were always splash competitions with the guys to see who could make the highest splash. We sure had a lot of fun!

There was one guy, however, who was untouchable as far as splash size was concerned—and everyone at the pool knew it. He was the legend, the king of water displacement. His name was Charlie Baker. Even his name seemed ideally suited for swimming pool folklore.

Charlie was an upperclassman in high school while I was in junior high. He was big, real big, probably well over three hundred pounds. He had a light complexion with reddish hair and wore a light blue buttoned shirt with the sleeves cut off. He wore thick black-rimmed glasses with a tight-fitting elastic strap around his head to keep them secure.

I didn’t know Charlie personally, I only knew his reputation: his ability to disrupt water severely. As far as I know, Charlie never bothered with the lower diving boards. He would usually be seen in line, sitting on the pipe railing, waiting for his turn on the high board.

I only saw Charlie perform a few dives: the Belly Buster, which I think would be painful, and a vicious Cannonball. His cannonball, on impact, generated multiple shockwaves of water covering the length of the pool and ejected barrels of water skyward. Swimmers bobbed up and down as the tidal waves reverberated throughout the Olympic-sized pool.

Bravo! Charlie, you are a big splash in Abilene swimming pool history! ❦

Demented

Warning: Sexual content! For mature audiences only. May be offensive to monkeys.

When I was a kid, the swimming pool’s concession stand was on the building’s roof. The old building was constructed of stone and concrete. There were stairs on both sides of the main entrance. From the roof, you could see the entire pool while you were eating snacks.

One beautiful sunny day, my buddy Mike and I ate snacks on the roof. Mike was at the far right corner, looking out over the pool. Directly below him was the smaller toddler’s pool. Out of the blue, he motioned for me to come over to where he was crouching behind the three-foot concrete wall that lined the top of the building. He gestured to me to be quiet with his index finger over his mouth. Keep your head down he whispered as I walked over to where he was. “Look, look down!”He said. I slowly raised my head above the ledge, not knowing what I was about to see. My attention was instantly drawn by movement through the front windshield of a parked car directly below us. I think the white and burgundy vehicle was an older model Oldsmobile. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. What kind of lustful, demented fancies were being manufactured in this noble citizen's head while he looked out across the swimming pool? You guessed it, he was spanking the monkey in earnest.

Somehow, he realized we were looking down at him abusing his monkey and decided to go to higher ground.❦

Abilene, KS, Swimming Pool

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