#57 OUR POND

Tony during the the first summer of the pond

Behind our carriage house was a two-acre swamp. A few years after Mummy and Daddy had  bought our house in 1933, Daddy got the idea to build a pond in the center of our ‘down-below’ land. He saw a number of advantages. Starting from the ‘height of land’ to the south exists a mile-long, gradual watershed, flowing down Liberty Hill, and through our property, ending in our swamp. This constant water source, created springs and underground fresh water steadily flowing through our land.

First, a pond would help control the flow and drain the land around the carriage house. Second, we would have a large source of water in case of a fire. Further, his children would have a place to swim at their own home. Finally, a nicely landscaped pool would enhance the lower section of their country home.                 

In the spring of 1939, Daddy, in great contrast to his daily intellectual work in his elegant law office, laboriously dug up the wetly heavy loam surface by hand. He had to dig ditches to drain the deepening water so it would flow down to the beginning of the swamp. When he had shoveled down to a depth of about two feet, he hit ledge. Then he dynamited, quite bravely, I now think. After lugging out the broken rocks, the entire floor and three sides if the pond were solid granite. Against the fourth side (the south side) he constructed a wall of large fieldstones, cemented to be mostly watertight. Small cracks did exist, allowing a constant flow of fresh water that kept the pond filled up. Fortunately, the water did not seem ever to leak out. The pond stayed full naturally, clear and clean all summer long.

Daddy installed a cleverly designed drain in the lowest point so the pool could be completely emptied for the necessary spring cleaning. On the emptying day, Tony and I (and Alice when she was old enough) caught every water creature we could find. We put them in pails and carried them down to the swamp where they could continue their happy lives. Lots of fun! Alice, today, remembers the spring cleaning day as her most favorite pond day of the year. Maybe that reveals a bit why she became a biology professor. For refilling the pond quickly, water was piped down from our house three hundred feet away. The pond seldom needed that well water except to fill it faster after it was cleaned.

When the pond was refilled, it was a clean place for us to swim. It always had a constant supply of fresh spring water. The pond stayed magically clear for the whole season. We never needed a filter or any chemicals. The solid granite bottom was made up of different depths and most of it was smooth. On the east side, Daddy constructed wide entry steps of heavy granite slabs. The pool was five feet deep there.

Me jumping into the pond

However, a bit further out, under the water, there was an abruptly rising, two-foot ledge with a wickedly sharp, ninety degree, upper edge. In today’s world, few parents would allow children to dive into such danger. We knew exactly where that ledge was and no one ever struck it with their head. Some places were uneven from the blasting, but we knew every inch of that granite pool floor and seldom even had a stubbed toe. While the pond was maybe only three feet deep in the center, it was also five feet on the far side and that is where we did most of our diving. A high boulder there was our diving platform. Tony and I never had an accident.

Fifteen years after my pond picture above, when I was 24, here is Stevie at theBowman Brook swimming hole that was on our Animal Hospital property where our children grew up.

We also had fun swimming in brook-fed swimming holes in Bedford within bicycle distance. When we were teenagers, we went to two local, abandoned granite quarries which were over 100 feet deep. Great for diving! Occasionally, we were driven to Baboosic Lake, eight miles away. We enjoyed hanging out at a rustic pavilion and on the playing beach. Swimming races three hundred feet out to a wooden float was a popular challenge.

Tony and I learned to swim and dive well at the Y’s in Manchester during the winters. I recall that the municipal pools in Manchester closed down due to the polio threat when I was in the seventh grade. This was the same polio threat that caused me not to be tutored in the summer when I was skipping the eighth grade to go to high school.

I vividly remember the first time I ever saw a private, symmetrically rectangular, in-ground, outdoor pool. Other than two small country stores, Bedford then was so rural that there were no other commercial enterprises. A notable exception was Yvonne’s French Villa, an elaborate, fancy spa that catered to celebrities of the era such as Gypsy Rose Lee, Bette Davis and Peter Lorre. When I was in the seventh grade, the 7^th and 8^th grades (this group was only about six children) had an outing in the late spring to visit the spa. We traveled by foot, a long walk of two hot, dusty miles. Once there, I not only saw this lovely pool, but also I actually swam in it. Perhaps what made this pool such a surprise for me to see was that it was painted in brilliant turquoise.

As the years went by, Tony, Alice and I left home for private schools. Our pond slowly evolved away from being a pristine swimming pool. Mummy and Daddy changed it into a habitat for ducks and geese; rare gold fish and colorful water lilies. Eventually, this wonderful pond fully naturalized, continuing for many years as a happy home for Mummy’s beloved, handsome frogs and turtles.

I don’t think that Daddy ever expected that his pond project on the edge of the swamp would be such a success for so many decades. The pond is still there in 2011, after over seventy years.