The power of a swim-in
In 1964, Mimi Ford jumped into a pool—and changed the course of history.
My parents purchased the home I grew up in not because of the in-ground pool but in spite of it. Mother was terrified of water. We kids had no idea how to swim. And pool maintenance was the last thing on Dad’s bucket list of desirous things to learn. But after two years of looking at an empty concrete hole, we painted it blue and poured in 55,000 gallons of water. Childhood suddenly changed course.
On many a summer Sunday afternoon in the 1960s, our family hosted friends who chose to come for what we called “Seven Summer Sunny Sunday Swim-Ins.” Tubs of ice cream created a party spirit. Wet towels hung on the chain link fence. Neighbors put up with the noise.
On one memorable Sunday in 1967, an urban ministry friend of the family pulled up in a school bus with 35 Black kids from Chicago. Their presence in our backyard made for a beautiful sight in an all-White neighborhood. But it was also terrifying, because none of the kids knew how to swim—and this didn’t deter them from spontaneously jumping into either end of the pool. Lifeguards were never part of our Sunday swim-ins. Instead, we had well-meaning adults who sipped lemonade in lounge chairs and who, we must’ve assumed, would jump in if needed. The fact that no kid perished that day is among God’s greater miracles involving water.
