The saga of the outdoor pool was my introduction to Cherryhill Village politics, and the power of the seniors to kick butt and get stuff done.
A day or so after I moved in, I noticed that the pool was still closed and emailed the property manager to inquire as to when it was opening. The response was that the pool was closed indefinitely because of needed tile work and their inability to secure lifeguards.
About a week later, a communique went up in all the buildings announcing that the pool was now closed for the season, again citing tile work and no lifeguard.
About a week after that, another communique appeared, this time assuring everyone that they were still looking for a lifeguard and anticipated a late-July opening.
Then. lo and behold, a final communique, complete with cute water graphics, announcing that a lifeguard was secured, the tile work was done, and the pool was opening by weeks’ end. On opening day there were balloons, popsicles, and assorted dignitaries from management there to greet us. Strange fanfare for a delayed pool opening I thought, but I took a popsicle, heading for the nearest lounge chair, and settled in.
Later on that day I was in the water paddling around and happened to chat with someone named Richard, a long-time resident of the complex, who told me an interesting story.
Fed up with all the excuses, Richard phoned the London Free Press and gave them an earful. A reporter came out the next day, captured a photo of Richard standing, opened armed, in front of the drained pool, and wrote an article about his/our woes entitled “It’s the lifeguard excuse….again.”
By the following week we had several lifeguards, a grand opening with popsicles, and another article in the Free Press, this time with a photo of the regional manager smiling happily, kicking her toes in the water.
Never, ever, underestimate seniors.