14 Red Cross, Swimming

Red Cross, Swimming

In my teens I took a course in First Aid, first basic, then advanced, under the auspices of the American Red Cross. They taught these courses in the evening weekly at their building downtown (my mother took me); this earned me the scouting merit badge.

About the same time, with confidence gained from Jack Kramer’s “How to Win at Tennis” and a new racquet, I took part in a tennis tournament at Warner Park, Chattanooga’s (white) public amusement park, on concrete courts. Cocky, I did poorly. After that, I joined (with my mother’s support and encouragement) for a while the elite Chattanooga Tennis Club, on the bank of the river. I finally learned the game (sort of) as a member of Baylor’s Jr Varsity on their new synthetic surfaces with their able coach, who was also my Math teacher and one of my favorites at that school.

After First Aid, the Red Cross offered, at the Warner Park pool; first Swimming; next Diving, then Water Safety (Lifesaving), both basic and advanced; each course took two weeks of daily sessions. Since I was an able swimmer from the scout camp at Ocoee, and had read the diving book and was afraid, I took only their courses in water safety, earning a large pin for the first, and a smaller pin for the second, plus badges to sew on my swimsuit; in the process I earned scouting merit badges for Swimming and Lifesaving.

Completing the Water Safety courses qualified a person to teach the Red Cross Swimming courses (as a volunteer, of course) both at the public Warner Park pool, and at neighborhood private pools (like nearby Stuart Heights in Hixson) when they were offered. As for Water Safety, all courses were for two weeks; this I did for that summer and the next. By then I was driving, and usually had the use of my mother’s car, so transportation wasn’t a problem.

While I was a student at Emory, through the influence of my uncle on the personnel manager at the insurance company where they both worked, I was hired as the lifeguard on the company’s lake property waterfront; it consisted of a swimming area with a concrete frontage (which was coated with anti-fouling copper paint, but I kept swept clear, otherwise it would become slippery from algae). There was a rope with small floats to separate the areas for wading and swimming; there were two outlying rafts, with drums or large Styrofoam blocks underneath, where the water was deep (about 15’). We often played a game between the rafts that we called “Pom, Pom, Poonaway”, sort of like “Red Rover”. One person, in the water between the rafts, was named “it” and was to catch or tag other players, who used their diving and swimming skills to avoid being caught; those caught joined “it” in catching all who remained; the last one caught became “it” for the next round. There was in front of the water a lounging area with big pine trees, chairs, picnic tables and grills; there were two large sheds or “pavilions” in case of rain, and large shower houses, separate for men and women, with cement walks on grassy areas. The shower houses had lockers, and storage space in back for maintenance equipment. There were two large spaces for sunbathing, grassy and flat, with retaining walls of pilings. My responsibility was the surveillance of this downhill area, and chiefly to watch over swimmers. I remember rescuing a little girl who had ventured beyond the warning rope and was unable to swim.

I usually drove my mother’s car after dropping her off for her job at East Ridge High, she having transferred there from Central. I thought I was so cool to stop en route for a beer before my work at the lake. I worked days, from about 10 to 4, only when there were swimmers; I recall one time there was a horrific thunderstorm which I waited out in the car.

A group of families lived in East Ridge, off South Moore Road, near the Roman Catholic church “Our Lady of Perpetual Help” (OLPH) with its attached parochial school. I became friends with the principal family of this group at the insurance company’s lake property, and this family often fed me there. Their neighbors were three abutting couples with their children, and were a friendly, informal group. Many times I joined one or more families for dinner or conversation or both in their home, always without calling. Once I drove two of the women to Atlanta for an outing, as a favor to their husbands.

After their children were grown, the principal family’s husband and wife became volunteer counselors for the “Heart to Heart” telephone hotline ministry, as were my uncle and aunt, so they became good friends.

As for me, my older friend (a WW2 veteran) influenced and sponsored me in joining the Navy (even in land-locked TN!) through meetings with his reserve unit in Chattanooga; afterward I lost contact with all.