Random Thoughts from a Random Memory

By Edward Master

The sizzling hot weather brings one thing to mind--the old swimming hole--and in my case it was “Mickey.” Where the name came from is beyond me as I never heard it called anything else but. A swimming hole on Turkey Run that eventually empties into the Clarion River that eventually empties into the Allegheny River. I never fished Mickey, the fishing was for further upstream.

Mickey was but one stop on the stream that held trout for fishing starting in April, but for a young lad it was a cooling off spot on a hot July 4th. I moved from under the car bridge and the from under the railroad trestle both in Turkey City after those two holes were bulldozed full. No more swimming. I think the bulldozer was to fill in under the railroad trestle for safety reasons, to fill in the creek under the railroad.

When I was just a little shaver, we wetted down in the Beery, another name origin that escapes me. Mom could pull off the road and park. The water was shallow. We were safe. A person can’t even do that anymore due to a barrier.

Mickey, downstream from the Beery, was actually a two-for-one deal as a second swimming hole was “Little Mickey,” just an isolated pocket in the middle of the stream above the flat rocks It even had a built-in slide over rocks into a hole about five feet in depth. The slide was fun, especially for the little ones.

Most of Mickey was surrounded by pine trees, which provided shade over the water and kept the water cool, especially in hot times. Swimming at Mickey definitely took the heat wave off, closer to the bridge on route 338 that crossed Turkey Run.

I remember once having an evening swim. A fire was built and we may have even toasted marshmallows and roasted hot dogs.

Mickey drew swimmers from a large area. We often had the kids over from St. Pete and even from Emlenton. I rode my bicycle to and from. If no bicycle that day, the other option was the old reliable thumb. Fortunately, the walk to Mickey was not a hop, skip, and jump, nor was it a jog down the road. We drove when we could.

In the winter, with snow, Mickey was picturesque. I took black-and-whites to document the winter side when I was in graduate school at CUP.

Mike Claypoole lived straight up the hill at the turn. He liked to come downward through the trees, climb a tree, and drop into the water; not a dive, just a drop out of a tree.

On the average over the summer, maybe two copperhead snakes ended up deceased. There was never a proliferation of bugs, dragonflies, etc. The shallow pools on the flat rocks got quite warm from the sun. Mickey also provided the flat rocks on which to lie for that deep summer tan that the girls wanted. At the deepest, Mickey was probably six or seven feet, just below a couple of big rocks.

I recall only once taking a stroll over the rocks of Turkey Run downstream toward the mouth emptying into the Clarion. I never made it to the Clarion River, but I did take in the site of big boulders. I could easily see why people spoke of downstream Turkey Run toward the Clarion as being bear country.

Mickey furnished relief on hot summer days, with usually cooler water. Those days are past, especially with a hole in my neck now. Those days may be gone, but certainly not forgotten.

I did hear one story from Roberta (Sullivan) Gates about chasing away intruders from Oil City way who came to party. Bob Gates grew up above Mickey in Alum Rock and Roberta (Mrs. Gates)hailed from the top of the Bostaff Hill. I can see why Mickey turned party place--remote location, swimming, easy to get to, but with one drawback--personal property and trespassing. Growing up, I never heard of anyone coming into the area from out of the area. Twice, in college, we traveled to near Rockland south of Oil City for a picnic next to a stream of really cold springtime water at a place called Sandy Creek. It was no Mickey though. We really never considered Mickey for anything but swimming. I think we had one nighttime get together, but only locals attended.

Our only other option for swimming was the Clarion River. And, with a heat wave, that water felt like bath water. The sun really heated up the river since it was shallow under the then Grass Flats bridge. That story is for another time.

I swam once with some buds from Knox in a stone quarry near Elk City. The water went colder as you went deeper. I recall lots of deep water and the quarry with lots of blocks of limestone. I suppose I could find it if I had to.

I vaguely recall some tyke swimming at a creek near Blairs Corners, too. I would have been quite young and unable to even doggy paddle.

I was pretty young when my Grandpa Johnson took us to Echo(?) near Dayton. That stream was fairly shallow, too. I did Pymatuning Lake once on a picnic. I didn’t care much for the lake. I also stayed out of ponds as a rule as the bottoms were just too squishy.