Swimming

Review: Swimming to the Top of the Tide

/ rtrube54 / 2 Comments

Swimming to the Top of The Tide, Patricia Hanlon. New York: Bellevue Literary Press, 2021.

Summary: A memoir of spending a year swimming the creeks and waters of the tidal estuary near her West Gloucester home, a portion of the Great Salt Marsh, and the critical role played in the Earth’s ecosystem by these places where land and water meet.

This book was a delightful surprise–a debut environmental book that holds its own with the works of Aldo Leopold and Rachel Carson. Like them, Hanlon brings to our attention a critical part of the Earth’s ecosystem through personal memoir. And she does this in a quiet but unusual fashion.

Hanlon and her husband Robert live north of Boston along a part of the New England coast known as the Great Salt Marsh. Beginning in July of 2008, they began swimming in the estuary and creeks near West Gloucester, where they were living at the time. What is interesting about this tidal basin is the flow of sea water in and out of the estuary and creeks with the tides, and their swims often followed these tides, floating up a creek when the tide was rising and the sea coming in, then reversing at “the top of the tide” and floating back down as the tide receded. They noticed the marsh grasses, uniquely designed to thrive when inundated by salt water, with dense, interwoven root systems that were like sponges, absorbing water and holding land. And they learned about the critical role this marsh grass plays in absorbing storm surges and providing habitat for marine and above ground species alike.

They decide to keep going, acquiring two different wet suits that enabled them to withstand the colder temperatures and they continued to swim through much of the winter, resuming in the spring, keeping a journal of their swims. The first half of the book is a kind of memoir of all these experiences, followed by reflections on this experience, including the importance of the Great Salt Marsh, environmental threats to this ecosystem, positive steps taken locally, and the longer view.

The writing at times gave this reader a sense of floating along with them, carried by the tide, taking in the meeting of sea, land, and sky.

“We were floating barely forward, watching the flecks of marsh grass and air bubbles on the water’s surface slow down and finally pause. All but the top foot or so of the marsh grass was flooded. The stillness pulsed with life sounds normally too faint to hear; the beating of birds’ wings, the drowsy hum of a jet, the slight tinnitus that has been with me as long as I can remember, a mind event that skates the edge between real and unreal” (p. 43).

One of the subthemes of this text is the quotidian beauty of a marriage that has grown, weathered, and flourished through many seasons. Hanlon not only describes their swims together (having a “buddy” is crucial for safety), but also their daily routines, their work spaces, helping each other suit up for a swim, a shared meal of mussels found on a swim. One of the delights of this book was to read a narrative of two people who had learned to live so companionably with each other. I found myself pausing over this parenthesis a few lines after the passage previously cited, after their bodies grazed each other:

“(A lot can be said about marriage, but fundamentally it has to do with two human bodies in close proximity over many years. From time to time as you’re borne along, you catch and hold a gaze, regarding each other from a foot away, twenty feet, an inch or less. Years ago, when we were courting, testing out the edges between friendship and romance, I could not hold the gaze for long. It was too soon. There was not enough “there” yet between us)” (p.43).

The beauty of this work is the integration of the ecology of a local household, a town, an estuary, the Great Salt Marsh, and the rest of the planet with its rising oceans and warming climate. The work gave me an appreciation for the tidal cycles that are such an ongoing part of life in this setting (and foreign to this landbound Midwesterner!). Most of all, it captures something all of us can begin doing–to become aware and attentive of our place–where our water comes from, where our sewage goes, the geology under our feet, the length of our growing season, the plants and creatures we share this space with, and where north is at any given moment. This work brings together observation, reflection, narrative, and science in a beautiful debut work.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Swimming Pools

/ rtrube54 / 37 Comments

Most of us who grew up in working class Youngstown didn’t have air conditioning back in the Fifties and Sixties. Nor did we have in-ground pools at home. We didn’t belong to swim clubs. Rather a summer afternoon would find many of us from all over the city cooling off at one of the city’s swimming pools:

  • Borts Pool on the west side (pictured above)
  • North Side pool
  • South Side pool
  • Shady Run (Pemberton) also on the south side
  • Lincoln Park on the east side
  • John Chase, near the Westlake Terrace
  • Bailey pool in the McGuffey Heights area

Trust me, I didn’t remember all these pools after all these years but found them on a Vindy.com forum.

When I was growing up, I would walk about a half mile to Borts Swimming Pool practically every summer afternoon and would swim from when they opened until it was time to deliver papers. You could get into Borts Pool back then for a dime! You paid your money and then got a basket and a tag you’d keep. There was a locker room to change in and shower and you turned in the basket with your clothes to the locker boy or girl in charge. Occasionally people had things stolen but I just brought clothes and never had a problem.

Writing from a boy’s perspective, there were three things we’d do at the pool: spend time in the water actually swimming, diving and playing games like water football; tanning (it’s a wonder all of us don’t have skin cancer!); and looking at, talking to (if we had the courage), or even flirting with the girls (something I wasn’t all that good at!). There were always the lifeguards who would blow their whistles or even make us sit out of the water if we got too rowdy in our horseplay. And every half hour or hour (I’m not sure which) a siren would blow and we all had to get out of the water so the lifeguards could make sure no one was in trouble. I can’t remember there being a problem during the years I was there.

These pools always had a lot of chlorine in them and you smelled of chlorine afterwards until you showered. I had brown hair as a kid but it was always blonde by the end of the summer because of the chorine and sun.

Occasionally we went to pools and local lakes outside of Youngstown. Some of the favorites were places like Farmer Jim’s, Firestone Park, Rose Lake and Smelko’s. Sometimes, our families went to lakes further away or places on Lake Erie like Geneva on the Lake, but during the hot summer weekdays, our local pools were the place to cool off.

If you read the list of the pools in Youngstown during the years I was growing up you realize that these reflected the racial segregation in our city at that time. Borts was a “white” pool, as were some of the others on the list, while others served racial minorities. At some level, I have to say I was aware of that and it is one of the darker sides of growing up in working class Youngstown, one I’m not proud of. We still struggle with these issues as a nation and I long for the day when “we shall overcome.”

Nevertheless, children in the various areas of our city had pools within a reasonable distance that they could swim in for a summer for less than $10. Most of these pools were associated with parks and recreation centers that offered all sorts of summer programs for children. While these facilities may not have been the “posh” facilities the well-heeled enjoyed, they made for a rich childhood of experiences for many of us growing up in Youngstown in the Forties, Fifties, Sixties, and Seventies.

One of sad things is that nearly all of these pools have closed. From what I can tell, only North Side Pool is still open. Borts Pool closed in 2010. It makes me curious about where kids go to swim these days, or whether they even have places that are easy and affordable to reach, as we did when we were growing up.

Did you go swimming at one of Youngstown’s pools growing up? Which one(s) and what are some of your memories?

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Summer Memories

/ rtrube54 / 3 Comments

The last day of school. What a wonderful feeling it was to have what seemed like an endless summer stretching before you. Having celebrated the Fourth of July yesterday with a picnic and fireworks, I thought this might be a good time to think about summers growing up in a working class Youngstown neighborhood.

WHOT day ticket

WHOT Day Pass (courtesy of my wife!)

Probably one of the big differences from what I see so many people doing these days were that most vacations were “stay-cations” before the word was ever invented! No trips to Europe or other exotic faraway places. Vacation might have involved a few days at Lake Milton or Pymatuning, or perhaps a cabin over in Cook’s Forest. Most families didn’t have the resources for more. I remember what a thrill it was when my grandparents took me to Gettysburg and Lancaster, PA! Even trips to Cleveland to see the Indians play or down to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates were a big deal in our family.

Until I was older and more mobile, most days were spent around the neighborhood. Mornings often included chores around the house, or cutting lawns for people in the neighborhood to earn a little spending money. Summer afternoons were often spent in one of several places–my front porch which was shaded by awnings and pretty cool even on the hottest days. If I was alone, I was probably reading one of the books I got from the West Side Library (some things never change!). Sometimes friends and I would pitch baseball cards or have marathon Monopoly games. The other place most of us hung out was Borts Swimming Pool (or Pemberton in my wife’s case). Hardly any of us had air conditioning so it was the best place to cool off, and as the hormones kicked in, to look at all the pretty girls in their bikinis. Only problem–I was terribly near-sighted, and usually left the glasses home or in the baskets we used for our clothes. Sigh!

Sam McDowell (Plain Dealer file photo)

Sam McDowell (Plain Dealer file photo)

Evenings were a good time for a pick up game of baseball down at Washington Elementary’s playground at the end of the street. Only problem as we grew older is that we hit lots of balls over the fence, and sometimes down the freeway ramp to I-680. That was an adventure, trying to recover your ball. Because the playground was asphalt, we usually wore the cover off a ball before long and then it became this black, electrical taped sphere! No umpires, so usually we either fought until someone backed down, or called a “do over.” Once it was dark, it was usually home to the front porch to catch the Cleveland Indians game on my transistor radio. I was a big Indians fan. It was an incredible thrill one year when dad got us box seats behind home plate when “Sudden Sam” McDowell was pitching. I’d never seen a ball thrown that fast and you could feel as well as hear the “smack” of the ball in the catcher’s mitt.

As I got older my friend Jimmy C. and I used to sit on his front steps in the evenings and try to solve the mysteries of life which usually had to do with figuring out girls. Not sure we ever did! Often we would walk up Mahoning Ave to the Dairy Queen, get ice cream cones and hang out for a while with friends. Sometimes we would go up to Borts Field, watching baseball games (and what else) hanging out with girls from the neighborhood trying (and usually failing) to impress them!

Summer highlights were the Fourth of July Fireworks at Idora Park, our in-city amusement park, which closed in 1984 after a disastrous fire destroyed the Wildcat, one of the best coasters in the country, and other park buildings. We usually didn’t go to Idora Park for the display but to “Rocky Ridge”, now know as the James L. Wick, Jr. Recreation Area. From the top ridge of the park, we could see over the trees and get a great view of the display without the traffic. Of course, a summer wouldn’t be complete without a trip to Idora Park. The coasters, the fun house, the french fries under the “rockets” ride, were all great fun. The best day to go was WHOT Day. WHOT was a local radio station that sponsored special discount passes to the park every year. Local bands and national celebrities played there and you could ride the rides all day on the pass.

I could go on and on. I already mentioned the local DQ. There were also trips to Isaly’s for skyscraper cones and when I was older, we would go over to the south side of town for really good home made ice cream at Handel’s. For all I know, I could have run into my wife, unbeknownst to me, because Handels was just down the street from where she grew up. And there were the family picnics at my grandparents. Grandma Trube made the best potato salad and we would get to stay up late in the evening chasing fireflies while the citronella candles kept the mosquitoes away from the grownups.

One thing about summers in working class Youngstown–we never talked about being bored even though the stuff I write about seems pretty ordinary by today’s standards. We made our own fun (and sometimes mischief). Our parents often had to work hard, and so didn’t have lots of time to keep us entertained.  Somehow, that all seemed to work out pretty well. We knew if we got in too much trouble, our folks would hear about it from the neighbors.

Looking back on summer memories has been fun. What were some of your best summer memories, whether you grew up in Youngstown or not?