The Blue Hole, Following the Rules and Abandoned While Naked

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

This week I was talking with one of my Tennessee cousins. In the course of the conversation she mentioned that she, her husband and some of their children would be attending their college reunion. As it happens, the majority of my cousins and some of their spouses and children also graduated from this same college. As it also happens, this is the first college I attended.

Just in case any of my cousins want to play the one-up-man-ship game I would like to point out that I am the only one of my family who can say, “None of my relatives were ever asked to leave this particular college.” Hah, so there.

At that time, I considered that college ultra-conservative and rigid. As a father I now would consider it the perfect place to send a daughter to college. My biggest issue was the rulebook. That rulebook was larger than my hometown phone book, which covered an entire county.

Although I may have mellowed over the years I still think that if God can write all of his rules on two stone tablets that can be carried down a mountain by a hundred-year-old man, forty or so type written pages of rules is excessive.

Contrary to popular opinion I did not deliberately break every rule in that book; some of them I broke without realizing there was a rule. For instance, my cousin mentioned that it was no longer against the rules to swim in “Blue Hole.” I have always considered any natural body of water that was big enough to contain my body was put there for me.

I spent a lot of time hiking on that mountain and never passed “Blue Hole” without jumping in. Of all of the rules they suspected me of breaking (and questioned me about) they never asked me about swimming. I would have admitted that without even thinking about it.

Another of my problems with that school and their problem with me was that there were (in addition to “The Book”) rules that were not in the book but were considered rules never the less.

I would have to find and re-read “the book” but I am certain that the rule would have been worded something like “Thou shalt not swim in ye Blue Hole.”

Had I been caught swimming we would have had a biblical conversation. I would have been commanded to “Come Forth” and I would have responded, “I heard your voice but hid because I was naked.”  They would have requested a list of the names of the other participants. This brings up another of the odd recurrences in my life. Regardless of the size of the group or what we were doing when someone showed up to complain, criticize, object or arrest, the rest of the group scattered like a covey of quail, leaving me alone.

Once at a local country club I was left to explain how and why I was alone and how I could make enough noise (by myself) to disturb neighbors a mile away, how I brought in enough clothing for several dozen people and how I drove eight or ten cars to the club.

But back to the hypothetical scenario of being caught swimming in ye Blue Hole.

First, I would have received a disciplinary notice starting with my offense of swimming, which once I realized was against the rules I would have responded, “Sir, according to the dictionary I was not swimming, I was bathing.” Swimming requires effort; floating, treading water or being washed uncontrollably downstream is not swimming. Ditto for wading, sitting or standing on rocks.

Then they would start listing offences that were not in the book. This indicates the omnipotence of the dean or possibly the fact that one of the other participants had (in a moment of unnecessary guilt) confessed. Keep in mind a proper guilt-motivated confession should never include the name of anyone else.

As far as I was concerned, swimming, bathing or sitting in Blue Hole was a religious experience; surrounded by nothing but pristine nature, unblemished by the hand of man with the exception of a Bible verse or two that vandals had painted on the rocks. These I sanded and attractively covered with my trusty can of rock gray spray paint, which was also possibly against the unwritten rules.

Watching beginners jump into Blue Hole would make you think you had stumbled into a Pentecostal baptism at a nudist colony.  Keep in mind that the water in a mountain stream is always colder than the air and possibly below freezing. You can imagine the exclamations and prayers followed by speaking in unknown languages.

I can’t give exact quotes because some (I am certain) were and still are against the rules and the rule book may not be subject to the statute of limitations and the current dean of that school just might send me another disciplinary notice.