Weather in the Tries:
Yaaaayyy!!! the days of the coming week will be high 40s and low 50s! WaaHoo! And the nights above freezing. Oh, be still my heart. Well, it can’t be all goodness, I suppose. We do have 3 days with rain on the agenda. Some desert this is turning out to be! I don’t mind the rain all that much, but my short legged friend doesn’t like it at all.

Love in the Dungeon, encore:
It must be the coming of Valentine’s Day, but I’ve been thinking of my days at Couch School in Portland, Oregon. Probably because I recently listened to a book, Lucky Supreme, that takes place in Portland, and the narrator pronounced Couch Street as Cowch Street. Uh, no. It really is Cooch Street. Anyhow, here is an encore read for you. Please enjoy it all over again for the first time.

Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard

or

Love in the Dungeon

                                                                        –by Lenora Rain-Lee Good

In 1951 I was about to enter third grade when Mother announced we were moving. Again. This time to an apartment in Northwest Portland, Oregon, where I entered Couch School. I learned many things while at Couch, the first being to pronounce it ‘kootch’ not ‘cowtch’ – even though it was spelled like something to sit on–after all, we didn’t sit on the school; we sat in the school.  

Couch School, built in 1914, was one of four elementary schools in Portland, Oregon to contain an official school-board-sanctioned dungeon in its basement—with an Olympic sized swimming pool, into which all students were forcedto descend for weekly swimming lessons.  Water terrified me.  I did not enjoy playing in water deeper than my ankles.  The lifeguard, rather than instilling confidence, instilled Terror, with a capital ‘T.’ I remained terrified of both the water and the lifeguard, and refused to learn how to swim.  People would walk on the moon before I would learn to swim! Had I been a gambler, you could have made book on that statement!

Summer came, school emptied, and Mother and I moved. Again.  This time to a small apartment only two blocks from Couch, so I didn’t have to give up my friends.  By summer’s end, every kid I knew looked forward to returning to school, and structure, and learning–even me.  But I did not look forward to the swimming lessons.

Too soon, the dreaded day came.  Once again, I had to descend the dark brown stairs to the dank and smelly dungeon. Once again, I must face the dreaded lifeguard and her insistence that I learn to swim.  Barely holding back tears, I joined my eager classmates, descended the steps to the girl’s locker room, squirmed into my hideous flowered swimsuit, showered, and prepared to face the she-devil in the pool area.

To my delight, a new devil awaited my arrival.  There, by the pool, stood Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard.  In my young body hormones began to stir, albeit sluggishly.  I gazed upon the young Apollo, and fell in love.  If Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard had asked, I would have jumped into either end of the pool and walked the full length to emerge at the other end.  Fortunately, he didn’t ask.

But he did ask me to learn to swim, and with great patience he taught, and I learned.  I assume he taught my classmates, but don’t know that for a fact as I remained blissfully unaware of them.  I saw and heard only my beloved, my first love, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard.

As weeks passed, I discovered he was single.  Now, this was a good news-bad news type of situation.  Yes, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was single, but I was no dummy. I knew I faced years of growth before he would even consider marrying me.  But, O Joy! Mother was single.  I began to plot.  How could I introduce Mother to Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard? Especially since Mother also feared the water.

Then, one day, my dearly beloved announced to the class he would teach a Thursday evening Beginning Swimming class for adults.  The solution to my problem.  Mother couldn’t swim.       

I begged, I wheedled, I whined, and I even shed some tears, until Mother, more fearful of water than I, agreed to take the classes. Harvey Anderson, wise to the teasing ways of his young students, locked the doors so we couldn’t come in and laugh at our floundering parents. Therefore, I missed the long-anticipated meeting of Mother and Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard. How transparent my childish machinations must have been to those adults, as they tolerated my feeble attempts at matchmaking.

Mother did learn to swim, but unlike me, she never enjoyed it.  Once I could swim, and knew Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard (I always think of him with full name and title. Yes, even today.) would save me should I need saving, I became a water child they had to run out of the pool at closing time.

To me, Mother had always been young and beautiful.  To me, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was handsome and old.  In reality, there were far more years between them, with Mother by far the eldest, than between Harvey and me.  When romance between them failed to bloom, my heart broke. Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard would not be my dad, and he was way too old to be my boyfriend, and way too young to be her husband.  I found solace in swimming and in visiting the library for more and ever more books.

Years later, Mother and I had many chuckles over this love lost. Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard moved from Couch, as did Mother and I.  Mother re-married, I grew up.  Mother grew old and died, and now I am also old, and lie alone in my bed at night surrounded by my beloved books, and wonder if Harvey Anderson, once a Lifeguard and a Heart Throb, ever thinks back to the time one of his students tried to marry him off to her mother and smiles.  I hope he smiles. 

∞

About this memoir: Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was originally published in a now defunct blog under the title Days at Couch. I did track down Harvey Anderson to send him a copy only to discover he had died a couple years before I wrote it. Couch School is still in Portland, but is now an office building. I wonder if the pool is maintained and used or if it was filled in and is now used for additional office space? Wouldn’t you like to work in an office building with a bona fide dungeon in the basement? and a pool? I would. Hmmm, I wonder if there are ghosts? or dragons?

Photo of the Week:
Fibonacci Sequence, pattern by Carolina Oneto https://carolinaoneto.com This is easy enough for a beginner, it is 32” square.

From the Paws of the Big Chihuahua:
the ice is melting, and the snow is disappearing. the days are warmer but the wind is still cold. this dog still likes naps, especially when my human snuggles with me. the sun comes out from hiding more often now. my human says winter won’t last much longer. maybe two more months. like what does that mean? how long is a month. and she says this year is a leap year. do I have to leap? how far? when? why? as long as I don’t have to leap into the ducks pond…

Quote of the Week:

“Mathematics is the language of nature.” ~ Fibanocci 

(https://csuitemind.com/quotes/mathematics-is-the-language-of-nature )