My Story 12

Most of my life I have had an intense fear of water. Not the stuff that comes out of the tap and is subsequently recreated into tea, or coffee. What I am talking about is, well, swimming in it. And I know how it started.

One day my parents announced they had decided to get baptized. The association with the little Pentecostal church had convinced them that their infant baptism in their early youth missed the component of a decision of their own free will. I totally agree, a baby makes no decision like that, and while it is a valid thing among many churches, it could never be a confession of faith. All was set for the following Sunday, and remember, at that time I still had never heard about the complete submersion that was involved. I think I was about eight.

I was sitting on the first row close to a large concrete tank full of water. I was shocked to see Dad and the minister enter into the baptismal, and wondered what they would do next. Pray, of course. Long and intense. When they seemed to have entered into a spiritual high, suddenly, almost without warning, the minister took my Daddy by the shoulders and threw him backward completely under water. Horrified I jumped out of my seat and just as quickly, one of my brothers pulled me back. My heart was pounding and I felt sick the rest of the day. For weeks after that I could not stand to hear the sound of water splashing. I covered my ears when someone ran the tap.

I could not watch some one swimming, and even in later years when I watched TV and some one was scuba diving, I was gasping for air. And I'm not kidding. Of course eventually it got a great deal better. But to this day I find even the smell of a swimming pool repulsive.

Given the above details, can you imagine my anxiety when I was drafted into the army and some commander decided that everybody should learn to swim. I told the sergeant that I was afraid of water. "Just stay with me" he said. I did not trust the situation and I brought my heavy army belt with me to pool side. And sure enough they soon ganged up to throw me in the water. I swung my belt and fought off about six guys, including the sergeant. I hit him pretty hard, and he called it off. "Go to the dressing room", he yelled at me. I did. And when I got there, from behind a shower curtain a shaking skinny soldier peeked out...."I am scared of water" he whispered. "Me too" I responded. He came prepared; he had brought a deck of cards. And that is what we did for the next hour. In the middle of that difficult situation God sent me a new buddy. I was never charged for belting a sergeant and the other soldiers.

I still do not like water! I can hang onto the wall of the pool, but for some reason I panic when the water comes up to my neck. Weird, eh, I don't understand it either.