by Donna Swagerty Shreve
The summer of 1967 I spent life guarding and giving swim lessons trying to earn as much money as possible for my late August wedding. This particular day was a typical Stockton summer day with high temperatures and a huge crowd had gathered at West Lane Tennis and Swim club. Being a Saturday drew even more of a crowd and too many of them were using the pool. There was a second life guard who was unenthusiastic at best about her job. She was not a svelte figure in her swim suit as she lumbered around the pool supervising. She took smoking breaks when possible and was far from the usual image of a life guard.
She decided she should help the two overwhelmed snack bar ladies instead of helping me with the over crowded pool. I had asked for her help but she hurried off to the snack bar. My neck was becoming strained as I was in constant sweep and survey mode. The pool was an unusual size at 33 1/3 yards long and was shaped like a trapezoid. The narrow end contained two diving boards and the shallow end was quite a bit wider. The pool was packed especially in the much larger shallow end.
As I gave a quick scan back to the shallow end of the pool, I spotted a girl with long hair and no swimming cap. One of the pool’s rules was swim caps for the girls as the excess hair put a strain on the pool’s filter system. The floating hair got my attention but no swim cap was the least of that little girl’s problems. She was floating face down and not moving. I blew the “clear the pool” whistle call and immediately jumped into action. I did not bother with the long shepherd’s hook as I could jump in and wade to the girl. I even remember music playing in my head that I remembered from the training films.
I brought her back to the side of the pool and placed her on the pool deck while I remained in the pool. I then started mouth to mouth resuscitation as I had relearned in a recent life guard refresher course. A huge crowd instantly gathered around the victim to get a close up view of the action. In between breaths I shouted for someone to call for an ambulance. I received nothing but slack jawed response. I was appalled!
The crowd received an uptake in the action when the poor little girl started responding with throwing up and then screaming. As I spit out and scooped out my mouth before continuing the resuscitations, the crowd remained frozen and mute. Fortunately for me the secretary in the club office came out to see what the excitement was about. She alone had the sense to quickly return to the office and call the emergency number. There was no 911 back in 1967 and she knew the 464-4646 number as she had a daughter with medical issues.
The little girl’s last memory had been the nightmare of drowning. When she was screaming and crying continuously, I knew she would stay with us. I then went into comfort mode. The ambulance arrived and they took over. They praised me for saving her and the backup lifeguard agreed to be the life guard while I took a break. I made sure the little girl’s chaperones were with her and then I went off duty.
The little five year old girl was a poor Mexican girl who had been brought to go swimming in the “rich man’s pool” on a hot day by one of the club’s members. If I remember correctly she was the daughter of their housecleaner. She couldn’t swim and had no business in the pool, let alone a very busy crowded one.
As I took a break on one of the chaise lounges, people came up to me in droves to sign their children up for swim lessons. I had to finally turn some away as I had no more room in the next set of lessons. That reaction was not that unexpected but I was still in shock at the crowd of onlookers who became zombies watching a spectacle.
One of my worst nightmares is to have an accident or somehow become helpless with a crowd of “Lookie Lous” staring down at me. To this day if I witness a victim of some accident I make sure someone is helping and then I look away and give that victim some bit of dignity. The expression “A train wreck that you can’t look away from” has never applied to me.
Swagerty-Aldrich Family Web Site 