You Go First

By Karen Friday

My bare feet made their way up the ladder, mortified to back out now.

A jump from the high diving board. Could I pull it off? With this quiet, secret fear of heights? A ‘public’ embarrassment to turn around and go the same way I had arrived—down the ladder. Past the people waiting in line. As pool-siders gawked behind sunglasses, I would look like a scaredy cat.

Me and my sister, along with friends, hung out at the local pool several summer days a week. We were middle school age (yes, younger kids jump off high dives). I had conjured up enough courage to make jumps (oodles of them) off the low dive. It was low.

Mind you, I wasn’t planning a crowd-pleasing, eyebrow-raising dive or backwards flip. I wasn’t a good diver. I kind of fell into the water from the sidelines with hands in proper position to go in first and head following after. My body wasn’t perfectly straight, bent legs gave me away. (Judges score cards read 3.0.)

Read More…