Saga of Swimming Holes

Written
2010

 It was easy to learn to swim

       in my hometown.

The Purgatory River was a cold, tiny stream

       running through town.

Just west of the Animas Street Bridge,

       a large concrete slab had been placed

       to keep the river in its bed.

The shallow stream hit this barrier

        and a hole was formed.

It was not a deep hole;

       even 10 year old boys could stand.

To learn to swim, one entered

       the water above the hole

       and let the swift current

       carry you to the hole where

        you paddled like mad

       to the outlet where

       the current picked you up again.

Swimming in the old Purgatory

       had a major drawback.

The numerous communities up-stream

       used the river for many utilitarian purposes.

This being the case

       we all learned a breaststroke

       and kept our heads

       out of the water.

The water was as cold as melting snow

       from Stonewll could make it. 

There was a heated indoor swimming pool

       in the old Grand Hotel.

The hotel had been a brothel

       before the troops moved to town

       during the war.

To my mother what it had meant was as

       permanent a damning

        as that delivered to the scarlet women

       who used to work there.

There are some things for which

       there was no redemption

       for person or place.

Better we swam in

       cold, contaminated

       water than be close

       to the glowing place of sin

So we swam in cold, dirty water

       and went to the West Theater

       and watched the Hollywood stars

       swim in their beautiful pools.

A great discrepancy between

       what is and what can be

       is never tolerable

       to those young enough

       to dream.

Success in life wore a

       lapel pin of a swimming pool.

And so it came to pass

       that the lapel button grew

       to be the largest pool

       that would fit in my yard.

Now in my old age

       when I have to clean it

       I wish it were a lapel pin again.

 

 

Doug Minnis

May 6, 2010

 

 

 

Notes
I was thinking about Trinidad as the 100th anniversary of the Trinidad Roundup approaches. There was a pool at the Round up park years after learning to swim in the river. And that is what reminded me about the swimming hole. Another day I have to remember to all of you that we dammed the arroyo coming from the Peak and tried to swim in that alkali water.What a dry childhood.