Goldie and Silver Ride and Swim In the spring of 1953 my best friend Helen and I each got our first bikes. We loved riding them to school. I rode to her house every morning and we headed to what is now the school administration building to attend our fourth grade class. We were looking forward to the summer when we could also ride our bikes to the University Pool instead of walking. We were feeling very grown-up, and we decided to give ourselves special names to use while biking and swimming. It didn’t take us long to come up with names we likes. We selected Goldie and Silver. We both wanted to be Goldie, but I said, “My Grandma’s name is Goldie, so I should have that name.” Helen reluctantly agreed, “ Well ok, then I’ll be Silver.” Every June, the week after school ended, the University pool opened the doors to its Olympic size pool for public use. Most of the University students had left Davis for the summer, and the local residents happily flocked to the pools beautiful cool blue waters to escape the summer heat. I lived on Rice Lane between A and B and First and Second Streets, and Helen lived a lock away on University Avenue between Second and Third Streets. By foot or bike, the pool was actually only about two blocks from our houses. We just crossed A Street, one block North of University Avenue; made our way across the vacant field just South of U. C.’s Hickey playing field and we were at the door to the Hickey Gym which housed the wonderful enclosed outdoor pool that Made our summer afternoons fly by. The pool opened every day, except Monday at one P.M. for the general public. At five PM it closed to the kids and only adults were allowed from five to six PM. On Mondays the pool was closed for cleaning, but beginning the eager swimmers that we were, Helen and I often biked over to the pool on Mondays, forgetting it was closed. Except for our two weeks at Girl Scout camp that summer we spend every day the pool was open swimming side by side. We saw ourselves as two mermaids, Goldie and Silver. We envisioned ourselves sparkling right along with the water in the glistening pool. We especially liked swimming underwater and tried to emulate Easter Williams, the movie star, doing aqua ballet. I’m sure the on lookers were not impressed with our talents, but we saw ourselves as fish underwater, “What talent, what skill” we said to each other. We decided that summer that not only were we excellent mermaids, but we felt old enough to spring from the diving boards at the west end of the pool. “Hey, Silver, do you want to dive off the three foot board and swim the length of the pool? I ask. “”Goldie, why don’t you dive off that three foot board and I will dive off the ten foot board and we can race each other the length of the pool.” Said Helen. “ You’re on Silver, let’s go.” I said. We did the crawl stroke just as fast as we could the length of the pool, usually tying at the shallow end of the pool, and laughing our heads off. Next we’d dive under water and head back to the deep end for more water ballet, telling each other what beautiful gold and silver gills we had. Their was a high tower board at the pool, which we often considered ascending, but in discussing it just the other day, we agreed, neither of us had ever worked up the courage to climb the tower, or face a dive from that high distance. The pool was surrounded by rough gravel, in order to cut down on folks slipping on the pavement. The teenagers often would lay their towels on the rough gravel and spend their after-noons sun tanning. We thought they were crazy, but we didn’t mind, as that meant the pool itself was less crowded. Helen and I are still best friends. We live about three blocks apart now. She lives on Miller Drive and we live on Mills drive. We often find ourselves reminiscing about those good old carefree days, when we raced our bikes to the University pool to splash away our afternoons as the two mermaids, Goldie and Silver. Author Nola