My hometown of Knoxville had a lovely swimming pool, built by the Works Progress Administration sometime during the 1930’s. The project included a separate wading pool for small children and a shaded gazebo for mothers and caregivers to shelter against sunburn while they kept a watchful eye on their youngsters. The WPA, as it was known, also produced other types of infrastructure in many towns and cities, such as hospitals, bridges and parks. In addition to the pool and the accompanying bathhouse, was an adjoining football stadium, the bathhouse serving as showers and lockers for the football teams.
During those same years of Franklin Roosevelt’s presidency, the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) produced many similar projects aimed toward conservation of natural resources including building dams to control flooding and create lakes and state parks for recreation. Two such parks were constructed not too far from Knoxville. Lake Ahquabi (an Indian word meaning ‘resting place’) was located south of Indianola and Lake Keomah was east of Oskaloosa. Both included swimming beaches with bathhouse facilities, refreshment stands, lifeguards, picnic areas and boat docks.
My dad, having grown up near a lake in northern Wisconsin, was accustomed to swimming in natural waters and shunned the opportunity to swim in the city pool. He objected to the chemicals added to the water in public pools (although he understood the necessity) and did not like the thought of sharing such a small amount of water with so many other people. He did, however believe that his daughters should know how to swim and insisted we take swimming lessons at the local pool each summer. As a result, we always had season tickets to the pool and went swimming nearly every day during hot weather.
Dad did not entirely give up swimming just because there was no lake handy enough for a quick swim after work on sweltering weekdays. He had hunting access to a farm belonging to a friend and there were twin ponds on that farm. The ponds, separated by a wide dirt dam, were spring fed and the water was always clean and cold. The lower pond was for the cattle and other livestock and was surrounded by low hills of clay with no trees except a few elms and willows growing on the dam. The swimming pond, on the other side of the dam boasted a small beach of fine, pale sand and a steady supply of clean, cold water tumbling through a thicket of berry bushes and grasses from a natural spring hidden somewhere in dense timber. Swimming privileges went with the hunting arrangement.
It was only a twenty minute drive from our house to the twin ponds and, on many hot days, Mother would have a picnic supper packed and ready to go. When Dad got home shortly after the town whistle sounded at 5:30 signifying the end of the business day, it didn’t take long for us to all be in the car and on our way to a chilly swim.
I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t swim. It seems I always knew how. I was never an expert swimmer, but I was very buoyant, floated effortlessly and had no fear of water. Dad swam with an easy sidestroke and I had apparently learned from him, for that was my choice also. In spite of all those swimming lessons I could never do an acceptable Australian crawl.
On weekends, when hot weather made the thought of a swim irresistible, Dad was happy to forget the gardening and yard work for an afternoon at one of the man-made lakes. Lake Ahquabi was the largest of the two lakes but the beach was rocky and we wore rubber bathing shoes to protect our feet. There was a tall diving tower which I dared myself to dive or jump from but always chickened out. Lake Keomah, located on the border of Keokuk and Mahaska counties, was shallower and featured a fine sandy beach and raft with a low diving board. The beach there was less crowded than at Lake Ahquabi which, being close to Des Moines, attracted considerably more people.