The swimming pool at RCS was more than just a spot to cool off on a sweltering day—it was a hub of camaraderie, adventure, and countless hours of fun. Its shimmering waters held memories that stretched far beyond casual summer swims, becoming the backdrop for moments of laughter, daring escapades, and unforgettable rites of passage.
Who could forget the infamous “baptisms” of the new freshmen? For many, it was a tradition steeped in both anticipation and mild trepidation—a rite that symbolized not just their initiation but also their entry into a close-knit community. I remember my own “baptism” vividly. To my quiet horror, I didn’t even know how to swim. But I wasn’t about to admit that. What was life without a little risk?
When my turn came, I teetered at the edge, heart pounding as the shouts and cheers of my peers filled the air. With a splash, I was in, the cool water enveloping me as I instinctively flailed and kicked, adrenaline spurring me on. I had no time to panic—only to adapt. And by the end of that exhilarating day, I had done more than survive; I had learned how to swim.
The pool wasn’t just a place of initiation—it was a sanctuary where friendships were forged, skills were honed, and memories were etched into the fabric of our lives. Whether it was the squeals of joy as we cannonballed into the water, the lazy afternoons spent floating under the sun, or the triumph of conquering our fears, the RCS pool was more than just a swimming hole. It was a cornerstone of our shared experience, a reminder of youthful courage, and a testament to the enduring bond of our community.
So who remembers the pool? I do, and I’ll never forget it.
Comments