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Kokomo Kootsie
4/25/2002
Nibbles- Bits & Pieces
The Old Swimming Hole
Down a graveled, one lane side road, that meandered past our country house, was the Wild Cat Creek. It came out from town, back of Vale Avenue, and wandered wantonly further and further away into the country, until it found a deep, deep hole, an old gravel pit, where it rested for a while; then, sending on a bit of itself in a shallow weedy, rock-filled bed, until it reached a depression which it filled, before moving on it’s way, where ever or what ever it’s destination.
That depression became ‘the old swimming hole!’
I was about twelve years old at the time, and had never been in the water. So I did not know how to swim; plus, I’d been afraid of water all my life. I used to cringe when I had to cross the bridge over that old creek, when it was the only way to get to town to shop for all who lived in the south end of Kokomo. ‘Town,’ it was then, no shopping centers. In passing, when one said, "I’m going to town," it meant where all the shops were, Wards, Sears, Turners; and a big court house in the center of it all!
When the weather warmed up, a group on the country kids came by for me and we all walked down that country road to go swimming.
There was a fence to climb, as the hole was back a piece in a farmer’s field. However, since everyone from all around and town also, knew and used that old swimming hole, a big gap was pulled in the hog-wire fence, and no climbing needed.
A path wound from the fence, through scrub trees and bushes and tall grass and weeds, to the water.
On either side of the path, not too far from the creek, were copses of trees and bushes that formed great dressing rooms! The center was open, and tree and weed free, and the circle of greenery made for full privacy. Many from town used these dressings rooms, but we farm kids came with our bathing suits already on, ready to swim.
Every Sunday, the place was packed and cars would be parked along side the road for half a mile or more.
That first trip I had down there, I wouldn’t go in, not even stick my feet in the water!
The next Sunday, I managed to get down to the water’s edge, my feet in, and stand up! But that’s as much as I was game enough to do. Even though I saw very small children wade across where I was, I could not bring myself to venture any further in.
That was the shallow part, and the water grew deeper and the embankment higher further down stream, making the depression which made the old swimming hold a great place to swim. Those who only came to watch and the swimmers to sunbath sat upon the grassy bank, high above the water, and some enjoyed the shade of a huge old Sycamore tree perched there on the edge of the creek.
One week-end, there was a flood, and on Sunday, only a few people came to the swimming hole, as it was still an overcast day and some rain.
The old Wild Cat was high, and roaring, and brown with mud! I wouldn’t go any closer than sit on the high ground of the bank, where most were sitting.
However, four young people, two boys and two girls, decided to go in, and headed for the deeper water. They played around for a bit then started to swim back to shallow water and come out.
Three were doing o.k.; but the fourth one, a girl, was not keeping up, and we on the bank knew she was in real trouble! She began to slowly go downstream, and couldn’t resist the pull of the strong current. This old man, Lis Newcom, a neighbor of ours, jumped to his feet, and I thought he was going to jump in, even though he couldn’t swim. But he yelled at those in the water who were already safe in the shallower water.
He was waving his arms and using some fancy words, asking the two boys if they were going to help her or let her drown!
When he caught their attention, they looked up in surprise and hadn’t even noticed the girl was in trouble, drowning! Then they both swam back after her and one on each side of her finally got her to shallow water, and several went down and helped bring the girl out, since she could barely stand from exhaustion and fear.
I can see yet, those three; the girl with her dead-white face, eyes closed, a boy on each side of her, holding her up, and her left breast bare for all to see, as her bathing suit strap had slipped off her right shoulder! One of the boys tried to pull it up to cover her, to no avail; but kept pulling at it! I recall I was so embarrassed at all that exposure and shook-up at the experience of seeing someone almost die, drown.
That didn’t make me any less afraid of water!
But before another month passed, I did learn to swim-and loved it. And no more fear of the water again.
However! I never felt at ease in a new place to swim; not until I tested the depth and explored carefully. I’d never just jump in a pool I’d never been in before, no matter how many I watched jump in.
Of course, all pools I was ever in, were creeks, rivers, and lakes-and a few times, the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, until I got my own 20 x 40 pool I have today!
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