My story is much like yours. My mother was a stay-at-home Mom. She made extra income by sitting for a few kids after school and during the summer. During the summers we spent everyday at the pool. Took swim lessons from as early as I can remember. Became a lifeguard at the same pool I grew up at when I turned 16 and came back every year until I was 22.
During my years as a guard, I had roughly 100 "saves." Most were inner-city males, bused in a few times a month.
I'll never forget my first save. Its one of the few I really honestly consider a save and not just proactively going in after someone before it became a real issue. It was around 7:45PM, the pool was about to close and people were starting to leave. She was about 3 years old carrying a beach ball larger than her above her head. A strong gust of wind blew the beach ball from her hands and into the deepend of the pool and she ran right after it and into the water. She went straight down to the bottom. I watched the whole thing happen in what seemed to be maybe 3 or 4 seconds. Soon as she went in, I went in after her. Pulled her out and got her to the side and before her dad even realized what happened. I doubt she even realized what happened. Her dad couldn't stop thanking me for saving his little girl.
My most terrifying save was on St. Rita's Day, which is a school in Cincinnati for the Deaf. It was one of my first days guarding the pool and a deaf guy and his two deaf daughters went up a slide in the shallow end of the pool. When they got to their turn he put one girl in each arm and sat down. I tried and tried to whistle at them to get their attention. When I finally did it was too late and they had started going down the slide. No sooner did they leave the gated area did they fall over the side about 15 feet into 3 foot water. He landed standing and still holding onto the girls. I jumped in and rushed over to them. His arm had broken when he tried to grab the gate to prevent his fall. I didn't know sign language at the time so I couldn't really communicate with him which made the situation even worse. We were lucky though, we did have one girl who was pretty good and was able to talk to him, ask him and the girls if they were ok. The girls were fine but after his adrenaline had calmed a bit and we got him out of the water we noticed he had also broken one of his legs in the fall. As far as I am aware, that was the last St Rita's day we had.
My son is now 3 and I have already started teaching him how to swim. I vow to never have to worry about him in the water.
My wife jokes about how I act near pools and bodies of water. Always scanning, always counting, always watching for signs of a weak swimmer and I always will. Its part of me.
During my years as a guard, I had roughly 100 "saves." Most were inner-city males, bused in a few times a month.
I'll never forget my first save. Its one of the few I really honestly consider a save and not just proactively going in after someone before it became a real issue. It was around 7:45PM, the pool was about to close and people were starting to leave. She was about 3 years old carrying a beach ball larger than her above her head. A strong gust of wind blew the beach ball from her hands and into the deepend of the pool and she ran right after it and into the water. She went straight down to the bottom. I watched the whole thing happen in what seemed to be maybe 3 or 4 seconds. Soon as she went in, I went in after her. Pulled her out and got her to the side and before her dad even realized what happened. I doubt she even realized what happened. Her dad couldn't stop thanking me for saving his little girl.
My most terrifying save was on St. Rita's Day, which is a school in Cincinnati for the Deaf. It was one of my first days guarding the pool and a deaf guy and his two deaf daughters went up a slide in the shallow end of the pool. When they got to their turn he put one girl in each arm and sat down. I tried and tried to whistle at them to get their attention. When I finally did it was too late and they had started going down the slide. No sooner did they leave the gated area did they fall over the side about 15 feet into 3 foot water. He landed standing and still holding onto the girls. I jumped in and rushed over to them. His arm had broken when he tried to grab the gate to prevent his fall. I didn't know sign language at the time so I couldn't really communicate with him which made the situation even worse. We were lucky though, we did have one girl who was pretty good and was able to talk to him, ask him and the girls if they were ok. The girls were fine but after his adrenaline had calmed a bit and we got him out of the water we noticed he had also broken one of his legs in the fall. As far as I am aware, that was the last St Rita's day we had.
My son is now 3 and I have already started teaching him how to swim. I vow to never have to worry about him in the water.
My wife jokes about how I act near pools and bodies of water. Always scanning, always counting, always watching for signs of a weak swimmer and I always will. Its part of me.