I learned to swim in the Osceola public swimming pool, about twenty miles away from our farm.
About 1965, when I was seven, my mother came home mad as hell the city fathers of Osceola had closed the pool rather than allow colored people to swim.
Oh, the lost innocence of being a child.
I remember thinking I never saw any colored people wanting to swim there, anyway.
My mother got angry with my father who said the city fathers of Osceola didn’t have an obligation to fund a swimming pool.
The next election in Osceola the racists were swept out of office and the pool reopened, desegregated.
In 1994 I fell off my boat doing a damned fool stunt of putting a 10 horsepower motor on a 3 horsepower rated boat.
It was a lot of fun until I fell off.
The shore was over a hundred yards away.
I dog paddled until I got tired, flipped over and then was happy to discover I could still float, just like I did in the Oceola pool.
Hillbillies can’t swim, worth a damn.