Turquoise Shimmer: A Tale from the Deep End
By Travis Jensen
Gordon Park Pool, located in Milwaukee’s River West, was a 25-minute bus ride from my mom's place. The pool sat empty nearly eight months out of the year and was ideal for skateboarding. The shallow end was the shape of a long rectangle, similar to a lap pool, with smooth flatground and a couple of large drains to do tricks over. The deep end, which was square, branched out from the middle of the shallow end and contained the most perfect bank-to-wall I’ve ever skated. This is where I first learned how to do wallrides.
The pool had two downsides: one, the inside was painted a turquoise shimmer, making the place almost too blinding to skate whenever the sun was shining bright, and two, you had to climb a huge fence to get in, meaning if the cops showed up, which they did from time to time, you were a sitting duck. It was an automatic $150 trespassing ticket if caught.
Anyway, after school one day, I believe it was my sophomore year in high school -- late fall of ’94, I took the bus to Gordon Park by myself to skate. It was one of those dreary fall days in Milwaukee where the sky is smoke gray from sunup to sundown. Days like this were perfect for skating the pool, because the turquoise shimmer was actually tolerable on the eyes.
At first I had the pool to myself, which is always fun, but less than a half-hour into my session a group of five thugged out cholos of mixed ages showed up. They took a seat on one of the long, decaying wooden benches on the other side of the fence, sparked up a blunt and watched me skate. I felt a little intimidated by the group’s presence, but stayed focused on my skating.
I was working on a line where I’d 360° flip over one of the drains in the shallow end, heelflip on flat, and then wallride to fakie on the bank-to-wall in the deep end.
I stuck the line clean a couple of tries later. I could tell the cholos were impressed, because a couple of them whistled and stomped their feet on the bench after I landed the last trick. This made me feel a little less intimidated of their presence. In fact, I took it as a cue to try and mooch a couple hits off their blunt. I was a big weed smoker at the time and fancied skating high.
“Mind if I hit that weed?” I asked the group as I approached the fence.
The weed, which wasn’t anything special, just regular, everyday schwag, tasted a little funny, but I didn't think much of it. I figured it had been smuggled into town wrapped in fabric softener or something, which was quite common back then.
When I went to pass the blunt back to the dude through the fence, in a thick Spanish accent he said, “Go ‘head and hit that shit a couple more times, homes.”
I shrugged my shoulders and took three more hefty hits, holding in each hit as long as I could before exhaling. I about damn near coughed up a lung after the third hit. The group laughed.
“Right on, yo,” I said, feeling nicely buzzed as I passed the blunt back through the fence. “I appreciate it.”
Then, a couple minutes later, a very peculiar thing happened…
I was standing in the shallow end of the pool, getting ready to hop on my board, when all at once I felt extremely dizzy, like I was going to faint, and before I could brace myself, my knees buckled up on me and I collapsed. This gave the cholos a good laugh. I felt much too disoriented and lightheaded to get back up right away, so I rolled over onto my back and just stared up at the sky.
I remember thinking, Damn, what the hell’s the matter with me…
Things got even worse from there. My heart started beating abnormally fast, my body temperature sharply increased, my ears were ringing, and I was sweating profusely.
As I laid there on my back looking up, the smoke gray sky started rotating, progressively whirling faster and faster and faster. I felt like I was in the middle of a goddamn tornado as I watched the sky then morph into the shape of a long, dark tunnel. There was no light at the end of this tunnel though, only darkness. I was convinced death was knocking at my door, as I felt myself being pulled towards the dark abyss.
Terrified, I somehow managed to get up on my feet and make my way out of the pool. I couldn’t feel my legs. I felt like I was gliding. I then tried climbing the fence to get out, but couldn’t. I was trapped. My brain and body weren't on the same page. I had no coordination whatsoever. I tried calling for help, but the words wouldn’t come out. My lips moved but there was no voice. It was almost like I had forgotten how to speak. I was so freaked that I started hyperventilating. Imagine a panic attack times fifty.
By this time, the cholos were literally rolling on the ground with laughter. I remember hearing one of them yell at me through the fence, "You just gotta relax, homes. Don't try and fight the zoot.”
It wasn’t till later I learned that “zoot” was slang for PCP.
I then stumbled back into the pool and went to a corner of the shallow end, furthest away from the cholos, and sat on my board with my back against the wall. I couldn’t move a bone in my body. I just sat there with my head in my arms, gasping for air, and staring at the ground. The turquoise shimmer started making me feel seasick, so I closed my eyes. Moments later I blacked out.
I woke up almost three hours later with vomit all over my shirt and pants. The wind was blowing strong, and the temperature couldn’t have been more than 35°. The cholos were long gone. Luckily, they didn’t roll me for my skateboard and wallet, not that I had any money on me anyway.
Although I was no longer hallucinating, I still felt far too faded to go home, so I gathered up a bunch of trash, dried up leaves and branches from the corners of the pool and built a small fire on top of the drain in the deep end. I sat there staring at the flames for well over an hour before I finally felt normal enough to face my mom. By this time, my bus transfer had long since expired. I had no money, so I ended up having to troop over 40 blocks to get home. The walk actually helped clear my head a little.
I didn’t smoke weed for a long time after this particular day, and my appearances at Gordon Park Pool were about as rare as my appearances in church. Just the site of that turquoise shimmer made me feel sick to my stomach.
