I think it was the summer of 1955, a few months before I could legally drive a car. Or maybe 1956. Someone, I think Jere Huggins, was acquainted with Doug Welch who wanted to develop a farm lake into a place where locals could have a beach experience. Several of us - Jerry, Doug Ross, maybe RJ Richardson and Jimmy Carlisle, were given the huge opportunity to be the lifeguards at this new beach. It was like a bolt from above. Summer jobs were scarce, and fun summer jobs only a phantasy.
Reality hit when we showed up and Doug handed out the pick axes. The "beach" needed sand, roads, dressing rooms, restrooms with running water. Some people with actual skills were working on the buildings. Our job was digging the ditches for water and other plumbing. Water came from a farm well some distance away.
In case you didn't know, digging ditches is hard. The hardpan red clay would take about 2 inches of a pick when hit from overhead. The June weather was hot and humid. I'm a swimmer, I thought. I lift weights, I thought. I can muscle through this, I thought. Turned out I could, for maybe 15 minutes before needing a break. We learned the difference between boys and men that day. There was an African-American man in charge of the ditches. He could swing that pick for hours at a time. Us boys could not.
Eventually the ditches were dug, the dressing house completed, and Lake Wellbrook opened for business. We were now Lifeguards! People came. Girls in bikinis were there. Families too. The lifeguard aspect was actually needed occasionally, usually when a small one toddled out too far and couldn't bob back to solid footing. All in all, it was a great summer. Except for when Doug's sister flipped a car upside down into that little creek in Princeton. But that's another story.
Google maps informs me that Lake Wellbrook is now a developed housing community. No wonder I can't find anything when I visit back in Athens.
