Confessions of a former lifeguard

Creston built a new pool some 15 or so years ago - despite the modern look the noises are the same as my lifeguarding years

On my walk route today I ambled (but on a quick pace Deb, I swear) by Creston's public pool. Certain things in life take me back to my lifeguarding days. Songs of the day, pool noises, the way the sun sometimes shines on my face at a particular angle...I can't explain it - but that too takes me back.

What can I say - it's the best possible job a kid can have. And I had it that summer after my freshman year of college - the summer of 1977. It's a great job especially when you're working for the Merrick girls - Cindi and Marci (perhaps one of the nicest peeps you'll ever know) and with the rest of a great cast of characters, some of my best buddies. Sally Rodgers (of course was my longtime friend and college roomie, gorgeous but anaware, dorkily funny, smart and loyal). But others became good friends - Kim Waters (who became my sidekick homegirl that summer), Cindy Hmmm last name is escaping me? lived near Lally's. Thank you Ted - who filled in the blank. Cindy Sheppard (another very nice kid I got to know & corrupt that summer), Nellie Juhl (our resident hippy), Cathy Hjortshoj (so funny and cool) and Julia Hoilien (I recently blogged about how much I admire this chick) worked the treat stand with her mom. Candice Drake filled in as a sub. I know I'm forgetting people. Todd Pellett was one guy - I'm sure there were others. Ted Simpson taught swimming lessons.

It was a pretty vigorous schedule - at least during swimming lesson season. I'd go to the pool at 8 or 9 in the morning and be there through 9 at night. But what else did I have to do? I got one day off a week. I'm sure my mother appreciated having me out of the house. In fact she invited me not to come home after the summer after my freshman year. That fun for ya Mom?

A typical day: I would arrive at the pool in my 1977 Red Chevy Monza hatchback - just prior to 8 or 9 a.m. For four weeks in the summer the Red Cross hosted swimming lessons. For the first two weeks "city" kids attended. Their moms would drop them off - some sticking around to watch little junior swim. Other kids rode their bikes to lessons. Often Fantastic Faye - a local figure would hang out outside the fence on his own bike "Silver".

During the next two weeks, it was the "country" kids turn - delivered from places likes Cumberland and Anita in big yellow school buses. Skinny and chubby lilly white kids with plastic bags containing their towels, some with pink nose plugs. Shivering in the cold morning air - in the unheated pool.

I earned every penny of my ($2.25/hr?) teaching under the tutelage of Grand Puba Nancy Pellett, who was following in the footsteps of Betty Lou Pellett. Mom had once taught lessons with Betty Lou, so I was a pool rat from way back.

This was before Red Cross came up with fancy names for swimmer levels. We had Beginner, Advanced Beginner, Intermediate and Swimmer. Of course there were a gazillion beginners - to graduate they had to front float and back float. Some kids are just sinkers and ya gotta feel bad for them. But this is one time when a chunky kid can shine when they float like a cork! We did have "aids" (14 year old helpers) to assist instructors, but darn it sometimes I had to get into that frigid water to instruct. (I bet those parents watching were thinking - "about time!" I know that now that I have viewed similar situations as a parent). All in all - I learned a lot as a swim instructor. Like I knew I didn't want to be a teacher!

After wearing myself out instructing for 3 to 4 hours, I usually had an hour break before I needed to begin guarding lives. Sometimes I got a takeout sannie from pizza hut. Why did they do away with their hoagies with Italian dressing, man they were good! If I didn't go there, Lally's next door or the former A&W - now called Town and Country Drive In. Mona Jones worked there - she'd whip me up a patented Dr. Pepper float with fries. If all else failed, I went home - "Hi mom I'm here to make mess and eat your food."

At one the pool opened for biz. The kids came streaming in. We were daycare for many of them - a pool pass is a cheap alternative to a sitter. Little guys - Dusty and Ricky are two names that come to mind - would arrive in just their trunks with a towel. They were to entertain themselves all day at that pool.

Each pin was numbered

Work/study staff, low income high school kids, helped man the office, checking passes, taking money and dealing with baskets. What baskets you ask? Sunnyside Pool (what a cheery name) didn't have lockers, we had baskets and changing rooms. Each basket had a corresponding pin - a sturdy looking thing that could be quite a weapon if need be!

This blog is getting a bit long (I'm a windy old broad), so I'll start a Part 2 later. We're (meaning Paul, due to my unfortunate shoulder problem) painting the kitchen this weekend and I've got errands to run. And despite the poker-like pain (I know I'm milking it) I plan to clean everything from the top of the kitchen cupboards that just didn't look that dirty until we got it down. I have an appointment to see a surgeon on the 24th since therapy doesn't seem to be helping. Dang it's hell to grow old. It's likely an old lifeguarding injury - blew my whistle once too often or something...