I have always had a deep connection to
water. I love swimming. I am passionate about swimming is an even better way to
describe this feeling deep inside of me. I swim anywhere and everywhere – the
pool, the lake, the ocean. 99.9% of my vacations are centered around water.
Most of my writing is about times I have spent near the water.
My
father, Eddie Hutter, is the one who passed on this swimming fever to me. My
father was a star swimmer at Tilden Technical High School in Chicago, Illinois.
He would “skip out of school” at lunchtimes to take a swim in Lake Michigan
with his swim team buddies. My father would take my sisters and me and all the
neighborhood kids to the park district swimming pool almost every night in the
summertime. He could swim two whole lengths of the pool underwater without
taking a breath. When I was just eight years old my father taught me how to
waterski on Kentucky Lake. We would swim and water ski from early morning till
late afternoon. My father, Eddie, was a real fish. He died when I was 19 years
old. He was just 48.
I visited my father’s brother, Ernie
Hutter, in Naples, Florida a few years back. We got to talking about my father
and swimming, and I learned that my Uncle Ernie did not even know how to swim.
It is putting it mildly to say that I was shocked! How could a brother of my
father NOT know how to swim? But, my
Uncle Ernie did know how to tell stories. He told me a story about my father
that I had never heard before. I listened with all my heart. This is my uncle’s
story:
When
Eddie and I were in the Navy, Eddie’s ship was anchored in the ocean close to
the island I was stationed on. When his officers found out we were brothers, he
was issued a two-day leave to come onto the island to see me. He caught a ride
on a little Navy motorboat and came on over. We had a great time together.
Eddie was supposed to be back on his ship by a certain hour, but he got carried
away “enjoying” himself too much. He missed that deadline. We both saw his ship
slowly, slowly, slowly creeping out to the open sea. Eddie knew that if he did
not make it back to his ship he would be in huge trouble. There were no small
motorboats or Navy guys available to take him back at that particular time so your
dad dove into the ocean. He swam and swam and swam all the way back to his
ship. It was a long way, but the swim to Eddie was effortless – like blinking your
eyes. He climbed up the riggings and was back on duty before anybody missed
him.
I feel so blessed that I had that wonderful
visit with my uncle a few years back. My Uncle Ernie died last fall. His story
about my father did not die though because I just shared it with you. And my
father – he is with me every single time I dive into the water. You know what
they say… like father, like daughter.
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