I will never forget my first swim suit. It was so pretty. It was a one piece made of turquoise and white cotton.
Our swimming pool was an old horse trough by the pump. My mom would put water in it and let the sun warm it, then my brother and I could splash around in it. The trough was made of an old bathtub made of cast iron with little feet that had sunk into the ground. The bottom of the trough was rough from age and water and was rusty looking.
One day our telephone rang and my mother said, “Well I guess that would be ok”. She soon hung up and said, “Well Lu Anne this is going to be a fun day for you. You are going to a town pool to go swimming with some of the church kids“. Well that sounded fun, so my mom braided my hair so tight I could hardly shut my eyes. Then I put on my suit. It was too tight, the bottom was very very thin from being in the rough trough. Oh well, I thought, it was ok.
Well, the group picked me up and we drove about ten miles to a town called Holstein, Iowa that had a public swimming pool. My senses started kicking in big time. All I could smell was bleach like my mom put in the white clothes when she did laundry. It was almost overwhelming. The bottom of the pool was painted blue and it was very slippery. the water was really deep. It was four deep at the most shallow. All I could do was lower myself into the water and walk around the wall because I couldn’t swim. While I was walking around I noticed the other girl’s swim suits, they were fancy and fit them well. They made my suit look very bad. I never went swimming at a public pool again until I was a freshman in high school. I took swimming lessons then and I really wasn’t a very good swimmer, but I need credit for giving it a run for my money.
The picture of this bathtub does not give ours justice and I don't know if Keith got to go with me that afternoon or not. This may rouse some of his memories