I was fortunate enough to have two great places to swim within driving distance of my neighborhood. One was a quarry, the other was a public swimming pool. Much like today, many communities on the fringes of Baltimore City, had private community pools. Our gang avoided those, even though we had one within walking distance of our homes. They were simply too hard to sneak into. The one close to us was surrounded by a 10' fence that was topped by barbed wire. My army compund in Vietnam was not as well fortified.
Even though it meant we had to pay an entrance fee, we settled on the public pool or the quarry.
The quarry was was the most dangerous of the two. Despite the best efforts of the management and the lifeguards, there were always a few near drownings and other mishaps during any given summer. I don't remember a lot about the quarry. Our gang really didn't go there that often. The ambulances idling in the parking lot dissuaded us.
The welcome alternative was the public pool in Baltimore County. It was a short drive from our neighborhood but, because most of our swimming occured on summer weekdays, we relied mostly on our thumbs to get us there and back.
Once there, we'd change from our cutoff jeans into our cutoff jean swimsuits. No one in our gang had a normal bathing suit back then. They were either considered too sissy-fied or just not cool, I'm not sure which.
The pool itself was large and comprised of mostly shallow water. It started about 6" deep (there was no wading pool for the tots) and worked its way down to a small 10' diving area. There was a big fenced-in grassy area, for spreading out your towels, surrounding the pool. There were even a couple of trees in the back of the expanse that provided 'make out' privacy for the lucky few.
Unless we were showing off for girls, we stayed off the diving board and away from the deep area. Our favorite water game was tag, in which the person who was 'it' tried to tag another person so they could be 'it'. Nobody wanted to be 'it'. No wonder. Once you were 'it', you were avoided like the plague. Even the older family swimmers, not playing the game, avoided you. It was quite demeaning to be 'it', and if you were stuck in that capacity for any length of time, rest assured, therapy was in your future.
We would do whatever it took to avoid being tagged by the person who was 'it'. That might include grabbing an innocent child to be used as a shield if near capture.
I also remember diving in extremely shallow water (the lifeguards let you, if you were dumb enough to do it). My brother and my friends did also. Looking back on it, it's a wonder any of us made it through those days relatively intact. Down the road I'll write about some of the crazy things we did that make shallow water diving look tame by comparison.
I remember one summer particularly, more for the music than anything else. It was the summer of '64 and three songs played over and over again on the jukebox in a small pavillion by the pool. They were 'Don't Worry Baby', 'I Get Around', both by The Beach Boys, and 'Fingertips Pt. 2' by Little Stevie Wonder. 'Don't Worry Baby' got the most airplay. In the summer of '64, at The Orchards Swim Club, it was the song of choice. Thank God it was a great song.
That public pool also had dances occasionally on Friday nights during the summer. There was dancing to live music in the pavillion and, of course making out around the trees in the moonlit grass.
A few years ago, my brother and I and our wives, drove up there to see if the pool was still around. We found that the entire area was now an industrial park. The same fate that met our drive-in movie theater. But I could swear, as we were pulling away, I heard the final chords of 'Don't Worry Baby' faintly drifting on an August breeze.