The Water Balloon

For the past week there have been several incidences of local kids throwing water balloons at people on the beach from the cliffs. I am sure the kids think this is just a fun prank and it will not lead to any serious problems. Perhaps this story will cause them to think about the potential consequences to an unintentional victim. My story ends well, but I could have become permanently blind. Throwing water balloons from the cliffs must be stopped.

The Water Balloon

By Dale Ghere

June 24, 2008

When I came to Laguna Beach to lifeguard in 1960 I had no idea how much my life was about to change. I had been surfing for two years. I could swim well and I had taken Red Cross lifesaving classes. I had been a pool guard for two summers. I had passed the Boy Scout Life Saving Merit badge requirements while on my way to earning the Eagle Award. I knew how to give artificial respiration to a non-breather by lifting the person’s arms and pressing on their back. I could stop severe bleeding. I thought I was ready.

Right from the start I discovered that even though I surfed I really did not know much about the ocean. I grew up inland and had spent no time at the beach as a kid. When I came to Laguna I thought lifeguarding was going to be a fun experience. I did not know it would change the direction of my whole life. Everything became a new adventure that reminded me of stories I had read as young kid, like Tom Sawyer and Robinson Crusoe. I came expecting to learn more about lifeguarding. What I didn’t expect was all the other fun stuff that was required to become a good guard. Diving for Abs, lobsters, clams or halibut became normal events. Night dives, swimming through blow holes when the surf was up and making rock rescues pushed my comfort zone at first. Body surfing became as normal as swimming. The one new skill I loved most was chasing fish in a dory. I was making money by lifeguarding and collecting almost all the food I needed from the ocean. Life just got better each day.

On the first day of training I was told to go buy a pair of Churchills from Leonard Brockman at Sports World. It seemed crazy to me to spend that much money on a pair of fins. I think they cost about a half a day’s pay, probably seven dollars. I was stationed at St. Ann’s the first day because I told them that I didn’t know where Wood’s Cove was.

By the middle of summer I was so excited about the beach that I decided to drop out of college and go to Hawaii to surf for a few months. I would then return home, buy a woody and hit the road to spend the year on the beach. This new life was looking very good.

Then it happened. I saw a small kid standing to the left of my lifeguard tower just fall over like he had been hit by a freight train. As I turned to look at him I was suddenly hit on the side of the head so hard that I was knocked out of my tower and into the sand. When I woke up I realized that I was blind in my left eye. The locals on the beach called for help and I was transported first to the police station and then to the hospital. While at the police station I can remember looking in the mirror on the cigarette machine. I could see the blood pooled in front of the pupil. As I twisted my head from side to side I could watch the blood move back and forth with my right eye. Right then I was really scared. When I got to the hospital the doctor wrapped my eyes up and told me to hold my head still. He said there was nothing that could be done medically to save the eye. The only hope was that if I held still for two weeks then the blood might be reabsorbed by my own system and my vision would return. If in two weeks my vision had not returned I would have permanent eye damage from the water balloon. This did not sound good.

As it turned out the eye was healed, the culprits were found and I was given the wages I had not been able to earn while in the hospital. I was back on the beach before the end of summer and happy to be there. I did go to Hawaii that winter and learned that I really liked big surf. For $200 I bought a 1948 Ford woody, but I didn’t spend the whole winter on the beach as planned. I went back to school to become a teacher because of Dean Westgaard’s influence. I lifeguarded until 1974. I retired from teaching in 2000. The summer of 1960 set the path for the rest of my life.

Postscript:

Around fifteen years after the water balloon incident, say 1975 or so, I was in a Bible study in South Laguna where the leader was discussing the topic of forgiveness. He suggested that we each think of someone we had offended and go to him or her, apologize, and ask to be forgiven. One young mother said that would not be possible to do because she did not know whom the person was that she had offended. When asked what she meant she went on to say, “When I was a little girl I went with some friends to throw water balloons off the cliff at tourists on the beach. We went to the end of the streets like Brooks Street and Anita Street. When we got to Saint Ann’s Street one of the balloons hit the lifeguard and he really got hurt. All of the others were blamed for his injury; no one told the police I was there. They were all punished, but not me. It was my balloon that hit him. I know because I watched it hit him in the head. I was so scared that I never told anyone”. At the end of her story I simply said, “You are forgiven.” She responded with, “That is nice for you to say, but I need to say it to him.” I said, “You just did, I am that guard.” That simple act of forgiveness put an end to years of torment for her and started a long and lasting friendship between us.