The photographs of Clarke’s Pool are described as a walk down memory lane for “three generations of Castlegar kids who learned how to swim.” Well he’s partially right. It was also the training ground for the suburban kids like my brother Rich and me who hailed from Ootischenia (pop. 856).
Rich’s recollection of the pool was that it was “one of the scariest places he’d ever seen.” Ominous. Large. Deep. Dark. Intimidating. With a “giant” slide coming down high above from the rooftop. My memories were frighteningly similar. Yet, the picture today certainly doesn’t align with the Stephen King-like depiction of the darkness banging around our heads. The pool was smaller. And shallower. And brighter. With a kiddy slide jutting off the side of the garage.
The prize? Continue reading “Clarke’s Pool”
