The year I was in the 7th grade, Mama and Daddy became friends with a lady they worked with at Hackbarth Delivery Service named Angie. Angie was a very sweet lady of Mexican heritage who loved painting ceramic figures, a hobby my mom picked up from her. Mama loved any sort of crafts; she had learned tole painting from my classmate Kerry Ferrell's mom, Judy, years before and passed on her knowledge of tole painting to Angie.
My dad and Angie were better friends than what we all thought, but that's a story covered in my second book, if it gets published and no doubt future blog entries.
Angie was married to a biker type named Butch who was super nice. Though his name didn't really fit his stature—short and skinny but definitely rough—Butch was a cool man. He gave me my first hit of weed, and I knew even at the age of 12 that it was not for me. The smell of it reminded me of the time that I got skunked, and I just couldn't get past the odor. Every other weekend, I would stay with Angie and Butch at their house in Pensacola, riding their dirt bike and my go-cart in the area behind their house. Butch and Angie also had motorcyles, which were always fun to take a ride on.
My parents had plans for New Year's Eve and didn't want me to be alone, so they decided to send me to Angie and Butch's house on an odd weekend.
Butch had a son a few years younger than me named Chris and a daughter a few years older than me named Francine, both of whom he didn't have custody of. They would stay with him every other weekend. This was one such weekend, and I slept on the couch rather than in the room Francine stayed in during her visits.
They had all been talking about the Polar Bear Dip and how much fun it would be. I honestly didn't know what it meant, but I was all in. They made sure to tell me I needed to bring swimwear. Cool, I guess. It had been raining a little throughout the day, the high was in the 60s, but when we arrived at the bar, Flora-Bama, it was in the lower 50s.
We went inside. It wasn't the first time I had been in a bar, but it was the first time I was in a bar with other kids. Francine instructed Chris and me to secretly (not letting adults know what we were doing) look for random cups that were left around the bar that were still over half full, as well as beer cans. We found a good bit of them. Francine took it upon herself to drink from the cups with colored beverages. I chose to drink from one of the beer cans because it felt like it was barely touched. Chris' can of beer not only contained a good bit of leftover beer, but someone had obviously used it as an ashtray because his second drink from the can brought out a cigarette butt. He promptly spit it out, and I put my can down and found Angie and asked her if she could get me a Coca-Cola.
When the sparse crowd began to head out of the bar and down to the beach, we followed. Just as everyone was doing, I took my shoes, socks, and shirt off and headed into the water. It was pretty cold, but it was brown and just as dark and cloudy as the sky. I thought we were all going for a swim and that we would get used to it, but once we were all in, everyone turned around and got out. I thought there might have been a shark or something, so I followed. I was confused.
Once I got out, the cold air hit my saltwater-soaked body, and I was ready for a towel down and proper clothes. I got my shirt, socks, and shoes back on but could feel sand in my socks—a feeling I still hate. I thought we were all going to go back into the bar, but Angie and Butch headed to their truck, so Francine, Chris, and I followed them. They turned the truck heater up as far as it would go, and we were on the way to Pace, where they dropped me off before going back to Pensacola. Though it was a Thursday and I love spending weekends with Butch and Angie, I didn't car much for Chris and I didn't like sharing Angie's attention with anyone else and Francine was not really that nice to me.
I was really confused about the point of getting into the water, but apparently, I had just taken part in an annual event known as the Flora-Bama Polar Bear Dip. Did I have fun? Nope. If I were more informed, would I have done it? Nope. Would I do it again? Nope.
As an adult, I look back on that experience with a mix of amusement and bewilderment. The idea of willingly plunging into icy waters, though not exactly icy, on a cold day just doesn't appeal to me anymore. The thrill of the Polar Bear Dip is something I can appreciate from afar, but it's not an adventure I need to repeat. Some memories are best left in the past, and for me, the Flora-Bama Polar Bear Dip is one of them.
I often wonder what became of Angie and Butch after their divorce, as well as Chris and Francine. I have a vision that Francine may still be a party girl over 30 years later, and I hope they are all doing well. As I stated, I may share stories about my time with Angie before she was told that she was no longer welcome in my family's lives not too long after this day. While she was no longer welcome, she and I had some great times together.
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