Beaver Run Pool

As the weather slowly, and I mean slowly, starts to look more and more like spring I fondly think back to my childhood summer days spent at the Beaver Run pool. I think the Beaver Run pool was special because it allowed me to have an experience similar to growing up with a local pool in the 60's. It was safe, it was cold, it was crowded, it smelled of mass quantities of sunscreen and chlorine, and there was usually a lifeguard dressed in red. Looking back I know none of these life guards were "lookers" but as a 12 year old boy I thought they were my Wendy Peppercorn.

Summer days would run into each other and really the only day that was different from the others was Sunday because I had church. Other than Sunday I was at the pool almost every day of the summer from about 11 years of age to 15. When my friends would get dropped off by their parents at my house we would spend the day at the pool and the other kids wouldn't even introduce themselves, they were just melded into the group without question. One more kid for pool games was something to be celebrated not questioned.

As a younger kid I would try and get involved in the pick up games of Shark but the older kids would dominate me. Flying overhead, diving underneath, or just swimming around me there was no catching them. I was an extra body but not much of a competitive one. Over the years I found myself soaring over the heads of 10 year old sharks treading water right in front of me. At the time I felt like I watched myself become a man at the Beaver Run pool.

What made the games of Shark so special was not just swimming from one side to the other but the massive chains we would for to protect our friends from being Shark, jumping wildly into the pool while screaming, "Shark Bait" and trying to surprise the person who is the shark, and best of all was whispering your plan to a friend to do a "Drain Chain" and it done correctly reach the other side without any semblance of being caught.

Nothing as an adult can compete with the all inclusiveness that Shark felt like. When I would head to the pool on a Wednesday afternoon and feel the sting of over chlorinated water on my eyes there were no worries in the world. School was months away, work was non existent, girls were exciting but not in the picture yet, and Shark was all that mattered. The only thing I can be grateful for is when the life guard yells, "Adult Swim", I can continue swimming and don't have to try and avoid boredom for 10 to 15 minutes.