Pick Me!

A weblog by Laura Moncur


Raging Waters

Filed under: Personal History — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Raging Waters, SLC, UtahDear Stacey,

We never talk about the time we almost lost you at Raging Waters. I don’t even know if you remember it. Our family only went to Raging Waters once. I don’t know how old I was. I don’t remember how old you were. I remember thinking about boys and liking them, but I was far more interested in learning how to stay afloat on the raft when the waves were turned on. It must have been before I was fourteen years old, so you were no more than nine.

Mom and Carol took us to Raging Waters. I remember being surprised that Carol had come with us and equally surprised that she didn’t want to swim. Why would she come if she didn’t want to swim? Now I understand the desire to want to be part of a family outing without necessarily wanting to participate in the activity, but back then, I couldn’t fathom it.

Mom and Carol didn’t swim. They set up a base camp in the shade and let us slide down the huge slides and swim in Wild Wave all day. That was the plan at least. I remember climbing the stairs to get to the top of the slide: stair after stair after stair. It felt like we would never get to the top. The higher we got, the more nervous you got. We convinced the guy at the top to let both of us go at that same time. I should have known you would have never chickened out, though. When we got to the bottom of the slide and splashed into the pool at the end, we knew that the long climb up those stairs was worth it. We must have gone up those stairs at least fifteen times that day.

Before there was Raging Waters, there was Wild Wave. It was a big pool that periodically would start acting like the ocean with waves. Families could rent little rafts to ride on, or you could try to body surf the waves. Raging Waters bought Wild Wave and turned it into the water park that it is today. Dad had taken us to Wild Wave once, so the big wave pool felt safe and comfortable compared to the huge water slides. In a rare splurge, Mom and Carol got us each a raft to ride. I felt like a surfer in California.

It wasn’t long before Mom was calling me out of the pool. The waves were almost finished, but I didn’t want to leave them early. I got out and you were sitting by the side of the big pool. Next to you was a lifeguard and my heart fell into the bottom of my stomach. You were ok. The danger had come and gone while I pretended I was a surfer. I hadn’t even seen you go under. Luckily, the lifeguard had.

Mom and Carol tried to let us stay and play for the rest of the day, but neither one of us wanted to go back in. I remember trying to convince you to go back in, but you wouldn’t go. We left the park far earlier than any of us thought we would. Our family never went back to Raging Waters and we never talk about that day.

I pass Raging Waters every day on my way to work. When I ride my bike, I have to be careful because there is a huge crack in the sidewalk that could throw me from my bike if I’m not paying attention. I can smell the flowers at the entrance and sometimes the lifeguards wait for the bus. They smell like coconut oil and I send a quiet thank you out to the lifeguard who saved you that day.

Your sister,


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