Evening star., 1940-05-26
% Boy H. Makes Hobby Of Working His Fathers Maryland Farm
Just
Between
Ourselves
BY PHILIP H. LOVE-.
Junior Star Editor.

One Of the many minor tragedies
Of modern life is the disappearance
Of the "ol swimmin' hole"
Nowadays boys and girls do their
swimming In pools that are the
last word in up-to-date equipment
or at beaches that are equally mod
ern. These places undoubtedly have
many advantages over the ones
that were available when your father
was q boy, but they have their
disadvantages, too-as your father
can tell you If he has q mind to.
Sometime when he Is In the right
mood for talking about his boy
hood ask him about his favorite
swimmin' hole.
Twenty years and more ago every
neighborhood had its swimmin'
hole. In one section In which I
lived as q boy the swimmin' hole
was q shallow stream that rippled
through a woods. Herring Run, it
was called, and the neighborhood
Boy Scout troop camped beside it
every summer. You've never seen
better natural camping site; the
stream curved to form sandy
peninsula, on which there were
more than enough rocks to build .
huge fireplace. and the few trees
were SO situated as to provide not
only ample shade but suitable sup
port for benches, tables and even
. couple of hammocks.
Every spring, soon as the weather
warmed up enough, the Scouts
hiked out to Herring Run to put
the camp in order for the summer.
The fireplace usually had to be re-
built and the hammocks swung, but
everything else was In good shape.
Everything, that is, but the SWIM
min hole, which had to be re-
created every year by building
dam Of rocks and sod and mud
and brush across the stream. Prop
erly damned, the swimmin' hole
was about s feet deep along one
side, with q huge tree limb serving
as a natural diving board" at the
deepest point.
In another section In which !
lived the swimmin' hole was a deep,
rockbound quarry pool. Nobody
ever knew its exact depth, but the
boys estimates ranged al the way
from 40 feet to so feet. Big rocks
provided diving places at enough
different levels to suit the tinaid
as well as the daring.
Other neighborhoods had similar
swimmin' holes-pretty much alike
in . general way, different in de-
tails Of Arrangement, size, depth
and safety. All were subject to
raids by the police; all were likewise
sources OF summer-lons parental
worry.
The passing OF the swimmin' hole
came gradually. Drownings. ty-
phoid fever and the police COM
bined to bring 1t about. And. at
just about the right time. puolic
pools began to spring up in con.
venient locations. It wasn't long
before boys came to realize that the
oil swimmin' hole was too dangerous,
that the pools though much more
crowded and far less romantic, ell
minated typhoid and polio. inter-
ference, and reduced the danger Of
drowning to minimum. Nowadays,
no boy intelligent enough to choose
between danger and safety would
think Of swimming in the kind Of
places that were popular when your
dad was q boy.
And yet there was certain charm
to the Oh swimmin' hole-a certain
thrill in seeking out a suitable spot,
q certain satisfaction in transform
ing a shallow stream or a rugged
quarry pool into a place OF enjoy
ment, certain glow of romance in
splashing into a pool that you and
your friends considered your very
own. Your father will never forget
the favorite swimmin' hole of his
boyhood, and to him-and to nearly
all other boys of his and earlier gen.
erations-its passing is something to
regret To regret, that Is, with full
realization that it was as necessary
as the passing of the gaslight and
the horse-and-buggy, that 1t was q
definite step forward, and that, in
ill probability, today's boys-and
girls. too-will some day have Just
as fond memories Of their up-to-date
pools and beaches.