Hoosier poet James Whitcomb Riley captured the essence of every boy’s adventure on a hot summer’s day when he penned the lines:
Oh! the old swimmin’-hole! In the long, lazy days…
How plesant was the jurney down the old dusty lane,
Where the tracks of our bare feet was all printed so plane
You could tell by the dent of the heel and the sole
They was lots o’ fun on hands at the old swimmin’-hole.
Long before indoor air conditioning and city swimming pools, skinny dippin’ in a stream or pond was a boy’s and a young man’s summer cooling recreation.
Cold currents bubbling up from springs deep beneath the bed of White River south of the Washington Street bridge was an early swimming hole for youth of the city. While the ice-cold waters gave relief from the summer heat, they were also dangerous; strong swimmers often were seized with cramps from a cold current and many drowned. Later, the canal at North St. “was a great resort for boys” and “there was a good hole at St. Clair Street.” However, once the canal banks became lined with houses, skinny dippin’ was frowned upon by the local citizens and police.
East of the city’s center, long before the area was developed, Pogue’s Run wound its way through pastureland above Michigan St. and the pools that collected in the dry stream bed during the summer provided excellent swimming holes. On the city’s north side could be found the best swimming hole of all. It was the aqueduct — the “dock” — that carried the sluggish canal, of uniform depth, over Fall Creek. Water spouts flowed from crevices in the heavy timbers creating a splashing spray on the shallow creek bed below to the delight of younger bathers, while above older boys could safely swim or float the entire length of the aqueduct if the water came only up to their chin.
In the last quarter of the 19th century, High Banks and Slippery Bottom were two popular swimming holes near the mouth of Fall Creek. The water flowed about eight feet deep beneath the twelve-foot perpendicular High Banks making this “a favorite spot because the water was reached by diving from the high bank.” About thirty yards down the creek from High Banks was Slippery Bottom, a high bank of yellow clay that when wet turned into a slide down to a deep hole in the water. This area of Fall Creek was so popular with swimmers that each Sunday during the summer a push-cart vendor would sell ice cream, lemonade, sandwiches, and pies. Other favorite Fall Creek swimming holes were located between Meridian St. and College Ave. These spots were “visited daily during the summer months by hundreds of boys anxious to be cooled by a splash in the rippling waters.”
In Irvington, downstream from the Ritter Ave. bridge over Pleasant Run, was a swimming hole that was popular because it was well-screened from houses and roadways. Shaded on hot summer days by arching leafy tree branches and with a slow current constantly running through it bringing fresh cool water to the bathers, this ol’ swimmin’ hole was the most popular in the area. A few miles distant, “The Willows” was a swimming hole on Pleasant Run under the Prospect St. bridge and Eagle Creek’s deep hole under the West Washington St. bridge drew crowds of men and boys.
The old swimming holes provided boys with joyful summer memories, but these water attractions also lured many youngsters to watery graves. By 1904 the city began designating certain swimming holes: White River from Kentucky Ave. to Morris St.; along Pleasant Run at the railroad bridge in Garfield Park, the Madison Ave. bridge, and a hole half-mile west of Meridian St.; along Fall Creek between 23rd and 24th streets, west of Northwestern Ave., Indiana Ave. behind the water works, the junction with White River, west of Capitol and Central avenues, College Ave. and 30th St. Good swimmers were assigned to these areas to make them safer. Also, free dressing rooms were placed near these holes and boys would not be harassed by the police at these sites so long as they were wearing trunks or bathing suits. Four years later, the Children’s Aid Association took control of a bathhouse on the canal near Military Park that provided a safe pool for hundreds of boys “who would have ventured into dangerous places” during the summer.
Tragically, men and boys continued swimming at unprotected sites and drownings continued to occur despite swimmers being subject to fines from $1 to $10 (2022: $30 to $300). In addition to the dangerous holes in the streams, the once healthy, sparkling waters flowing through the city were becoming polluted with dangerous bacteria from sewage and industrial waste leading to an increasing call for public swimming pools.
The first modern and free city swimming pool was completed at Willard Park in the fall of 1921. It was a playground type pool — two pools, one three to four feet in depth and the other four to five feet in depth — that welcomed boys and girls in the summer of 1922. Also opening that summer in Douglass Park, “where hundreds of colored persons spend the hot days,” was the city’s first big pool. The egg-shaped above ground basin had depths ranging from three feet to nine feet and was equipped with a springboard and slides. These two pools were the first of seven planned by the park department. Rhodius and Brookside parks were scheduled for big pools while playground pools were to be built in Garfield, Ellenberger, and Riley parks.
While thousands of Indianapolis youth eventually had access to swimming pools in the city parks, the cool, shimmering pool waters were not easily accessible to all, and unguarded swimming holes, despite the posting of warning signs and police patrols, continued to be popular. By the mid-20s with a continuing rise in the number of swimming hole drownings, the police began rigidly enforcing a city ordinance prohibiting swimming except at public beaches and pools. “It is hard to rule against young America…It is much easier for a policeman to inform a mother her boy is in the Detention Home than to tell her he has been drowned,” said the police chief.
The ol’ swimmin’ hole may now belong to a bygone era, however so long as there are creeks, boys will continue to wade and stomp in the shallows and catch minnows and crawdads.
