Swimming Naked
November 15, 2015
Yes, when we were kids, we swam naked in the “big canal” — located a couple of miles from our rural home in Edinburg, TX. We had been swimming — in a washed-out area below the large gates of the dirt canal— for several years, ever since my big brother (Bruce) taught me how to swim there. He said, “Make little circles with your hands and kick with your feet.” Then, he tossed me into the deep, brown, swirling water. After a while, I found the surface of the water and somehow managed to reach the bank by following Bruce’s “detailed” instructions. From that experience, swimming came natural and I lost my fear of water. But, it's not really a teaching technique I would recommend.
It was a great place to cool off on hot, sticky, South Texas summer days and to have mud ball fights. My favorite shot was to throw the mud ball so that it hit the surface of the water about a foot in from of the enemy’s face — so that the mud ball would disintegrate into little mud shrapnels into the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and hair of the enemy. Of course, it was easy to wash off all that mud by simply diving to the bottom of the canal to gather a fist-full of mud with which to return the favor.
Even after Bruce joined the Army, various groupings of neighborhood kids would ride their bikes, horses, or walk to this pool to enjoy a swim. The frequency of swims slowed some when the authorities announced that we might be infected with polio from these canal waters. But maybe we decided that the probability of death or injury from brindle cows, kicking horses, farm equipment, auto accidents or many other diseases was much greater — so why worry about a little polio? Anyway, Tosh and Jack Williams, Roberto Garcia, Skippy Reising, brother Scott and others I can’t remember were frequent visitors. The canal rider and other adults sometimes drove along the road on the canal bank and waved, or whatever — but nobody really bothered us. Until — on this one terrible day — a Ford auto came driving slowly toward our pool. It sent chills up our spines because we recognized the car and just instinctively knew that we were in trouble. At a bare minimum, we were in for a severe tongue-lashing or a little physical pain. As we feared might happen, the car slowed and stopped by our pool. The doors opened and out stepped Mr. Reising (Skippy’s dad) and my father. Now, understand that Mr. Reising owned the Reising Construction Company and was one of the richest guys in Edinburg. He and my Dad were also partners in the Reising-Sterling Ranch business.
Dad was known to exhibit occasional bouts of temper that sometimes resulted in the “warming” of my britches. But, I remembered that he was always fair in his dispensation of justice and that any corrective behavior that I received was completely justified. Mr. Reising was a genuinely nice man, so I had little to fear from him. But for Skippy, it might be another matter. So, we steeled ourselves for whatever crime we had committed. I think I almost drowned from shock as we watched both of these solid citizens shuck their clothes down to their shorts and then jump into the canal to join us. Don’t know when I was ever so proud to be associated with those two wonderful men! Also, brother Bruce turned out to be a great guy too.
-----------------------------------------
Table of Contents: https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/6813612681836200616/3382423676443906063?hl=en
