Many people have a story to tell that gives a bit of perspective on their sport. Mine is from my long lost friend; Lloydie.
Lloyd was four in 1969 and I don’t know his last name. I was also four in 1969. He was my next door neighbour in Prince George, British Columbia. I remember playing with Lloydie all the time. He was a good play-mate. I would go over to his basement suite and Lloydie always was keen to play. We both had cowboy boots.
One day my Mom told me to listen to the radio because Lloydie’s name was going to be said on the radio. I thought that was special. It wasn’t.
I didn’t play with Lloydie any more. He drowned in the Fraser river.
Lloydie and I had cowboy boots. We both had cool boots. We lived in them. His boots were found on the side of the river because Lloydie would never have made his boots wet. Who would? I wouldn’t.
Lloydie died in a big strong river. I started swimming lessons then and I learned to swim.
If you had a pal when you were young you will may remember them in different ways and nostalgic ways. I remember Lloyd because he started me on a path into the swimming world which I still follow. Thank you Lloydie and rest in peace.
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My Mom read my post and told me that she never told me that the morning that Lloydie died he came to our house and asked if I wanted to come out to play. I was ill, so my Mom told him I couldn’t play that day.
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