Protecting the property...

Back in the 1970’s, there were no regulations about having a certified lifeguard on duty at the swimming pond. When I first started dating my husband, I laughed when I saw that his father was the one guarding swimmers. He was at that time over 70 years old. Though he was in pretty good shape for a man that age, I would not have considered him as being capable of rescuing a drowning victim. Lucky for them, they did not have a lot of people that waded in the water deeper than 3 feet. In reality, he was a “water watcher”, although in truth, “bikini bystander” would be a more accurate description. “
As the campground grew and got busier, a new regulation went into effect that required a certified lifeguard. A pretty 16 year old girl applied for the job. She was blond with a very nice shape in her bikini. Dad felt an obligation to “help” her lifeguard since she was so young.
I do believe he just liked what he saw when she removed her cover-up and slathered herself with sunscreen. He would spend the better part of each day sitting on the beach with her. Finally, unable to keep his thoughts to himself, he imparted an observation to the young girl. You know” he said, “that bathing suit is a lot like a barbed wire fence”. When he saw the puzzled look in her face he continued, “It protects the property without obstructing the view”.
Dad had a very unusual lifestyle by today’s standards. He had been trapping since he was three years old, was a sample boy for the Edison Cement Plant, worked in hosiery and finally got a job as an animal control officer for the State of New Jersey. He was also a dowser and would find wells for many people in the area. At the young age of 14, he bought an old swaybacked horse for $30 from a local farmer and with the permission of a relative with a nearby farm, he built a log cabin out of American chestnut trees. He used the horse to drag the logs to their location. It took him two years to build his cabin and at the age of 16, he moved in and so as not to have to pay to feed the horse, he returned it to the farmer. He was active until a short time before his death at age 91. He always lamented about growing old. He’d constantly say “there’s no crime in getting old, it’s just damned unhandy”. When I think about the life he led, I realize the stories that were never written down on paper. I had at one time given them a recorder to just talk about the old days, but unfortunately I never pushed, and the recorder sat collecting dust. We celebrate his birthday now that he’s gone by having a Founders Day at the campground. We drag out the old slideshow of animals in new Jersey and show them to the campers as Joe did when he was alive. We put out many of the animal pelts and different types of traps from his days as a trapper along with the dowsing rods and sticks he used. There are photographs and many newspaper articles about him, including an old National Geographic from the 60's that referred to him as the Paul Bunyan of New Jersey. It is sad that when we are young we don’t spend time with the older persons we have around us. Their experiences and wisdom would probably have prevented some of the regrets we ourselves develop as we get old.