BUTLER MILL HOLE

As a very young boy the first concrete swimming pool ( as we used to say ) I ever saw was a picture in a Sears Roebuck catalog advertising swimwear. In my neck of the woods your introduction to serious water was either the swamp, rivers, White Lake or the ocean. That was unless you knew about Butler Mill Hole.

Butler Mill Hole was an eight acre natural pond located about one mile from our home. It was surrounded by large oaks and Loblolly pines. The banks were high enough allowing you to do your version of a Tarzan yell before hitting the water. Everyone had the same swimming attire, cut off blue jeans ( fashionable before our time) that were hung on a tree limb to dry. In the very middle of the pond was a large oak tree stump which became the commemorative rostrum upon you successfully completing the task at hand. Your badge of honor among the ten or so BMH gang was one’s ability to jump off the bank and make your way to the large stump. Your swimming technique did not matter as long as you could make it to the stump and back. For me, dog paddling was my confidence stroke. As adventurous as we were, the older and stronger swimmers would act as lifeguards. There were times beginners needed assistance but no one ever drowned. After a few weeks and swallowing several gallons of water I graduated to the forward crawl.

Feeling as though I had conquered the world in my exuberance there lay two obstacles that slipped my mind. My middle sister and of course my mom. The middle sister who will remain nameless ( I do love her) mission in life was to throw me under the bus at every opportunity, especially with our mom. ” Mom, guess who went swimming at Butler Mill Hole today”? I could never figure out how my sister knew I had been to BMH until one day the light bulb went off. When I came home from swimming my hair looked like Alfalfa from the Little Rascals T.V. (worth a Google) show. From that day on a small comb became a part of my wardrobe.

As my mom would administer my punishment I can still recall her words of wisdom to me,” What have I told you about going into deep water before you learn to swim”. Today I am sure there are some concrete ponds (ha) in my small hometown, but if not I’ll bet Butler Mill Hole still exists.

Be safe