near death experiences are usually never humorous, but my summer of 1999 begs to differ. that particular summer, my family and i went on an end of the summer trip to wildwood, new jersey. this town is the epitome of summer: rows and rows of seasonal houses; motels, hotels, and lodges dotted in between; a boardwalk with people from all walks of life; and one of the best beaches as far as the eye can see. the greatest place on earth for any 12-year-old.
i was especially excited to go down to the shore because i had just finished the “guppy” level of swimming at my ymca. the guppy level is exactly what it sounds like – the very first level of swim classes. until then, i had never swum an inch in my life without some kind of safety device, and knew that i would probably perish without one. however, at this point, i was pretty confident that i could compete in the olympics, and get that gold medal, too. no problem.
my 15-year-old sister and 9-year-old brother joined me both in this class and in this sentiment. we could finally jump in the pool at the family lodge where we always stayed. we could finally jump in the waves of the atlantic ocean, the same ones where our dad would hold our hands as we carefully, oh so carefully, waded through them. most of all, we could finally, finally go on the coolest and funnest rides at the water park, the ones that ended in pools that were six feet deep.
the minute we reached the lodge, my siblings and i knew that we wanted to jump in the pool as soon as we could. the suitcases were opened as soon as they reached our second story room, and the three of us were ready to use our new aquatic skills. my mother gave us permission to go down to the pool, with strict instructions to stay on the shallow end. the three of us trooped down, and surveyed the area like old pros. the only other people there were an older couple, around my parents’ age, who were calmly sitting on the side. the three of us went in, my sister and i wearing oversized t-shirts over our bathing suits.
from the minute i went in, i thought that the water was the place to be, and i questioned why anyone would want to stay on land. being the expert that i was, i decided to walk over to the slightly deeper end, and then to walk a little more. i found myself sliding down the slope of the pool, and i did the only thing that i could at this point – i reached over and grabbed my sister.
as we slid into the water, i could hear my swim instructor’s voice in my head, “paddle, sherene, paddle!” i wouldn’t call what i did then paddling as much as it was flailing wildly in the water, arms and legs. it did help me out, however, and my head popped up over the water. the next second, i felt myself getting pulled under, and when i looked down, i noticed that my older and bigger by three inches sister was climbing up my shirt in an effort to save herself. down i sunk, back into the water. i then had no choice but to grab the end of her “d.a.r.e. keeping kids off drugs” shirt, and tug. i had to breathe, too, after all.
back in the room, my dad was asking my mom where the kids were, and she calmly told him that we were in the pool. he came over to check on us on the overlooking balcony when, lo and behold, there are his two eldest children bobbing like apples in the deep end. wasting no time, he climbed over the rail and jumped into the pool from the second story of the lodge. swimming over to us, he took the both of us by our over-sized shirts and threw us over onto the shallow end. at this point, the other couple, who thought that we had been playing the entire time, came over to help out when they finally realized that something was wrong. we were then treated to quite a scolding, followed by quite a lecture.
through it all, my brother did as he was told and stayed in the shallow end. i’ve always listened to my mother since.
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