Skinny Al

Grin and Bear It

At one point in my life, my roof was leaking and my driveway was a quagmire, but I did not get depressed. If Skinny Al could survive everything he endured in Navy boot camp, I can bear whatever comes my way now.

Skinny Al was an inner-city kid from New York who had never been in water deeper than a bath tub. Needless to say, he could not swim. It remains a mystery to me why anyone who could not swim would join the Navy; one of the first things you did in Navy boot camp was take a swimming test. To start training, you had to jump from a high diving board, tread water for five minutes and swim to the far end of the pool. Boot camp did not begin until you could accomplish this.

The Navy was an equal opportunity employer. With no regard to swimming capabilities, everyone jumped or was shoved into the pool. When it became Skinny Al’s turn to jump off the diving board, he froze at the end.

The Drill Instructor (DI) below took this as a rather personal insult. After all, the mere fact you could not swim and would drown without assistance from a total stranger was no reason not to jump. Just because this stranger had been yelling and threatening you since you arrived at boot camp was not proper justification for a lack of trust.

The DI’s first response was to shout curse words at Al. This went on for about five minutes, greatly increasing my vocabulary, but Al, still terror stricken, did not respond. This really agitated the DI. He began climbing the ladder to the diving board, cursing at Al the whole time. When the DI reached the top, Al still would not take the plunge. The DI started shaking the diving board. Skinny Al responded by laying flat on his stomach while clutching the board with his arms and legs.

The DI, beet red with anger, rushed to the end of the board and began prying Skinny Al’s arms and legs. You would not expect a little guy to have such a grip. Skinny Al seemed to have become part of the diving board.

Finally, with one last mighty tug, the DI slipped and fell over the side, grabbing Skinny Al’s head as he went. At this point, it seemed as if everything went into slow motion. They stayed there, the DI dangling from Skinny Al’s head, for what appeared to be an eternity, but was in reality, only a few seconds. Skinny Al, fearing decapitation, released his death grip, plunging both of them spread-eagled into the water.

The DI swam to the side leaving Skinny Al floundering and on the verge of drowning. The DI extended a six foot pole to Al who frantically grabbed it. The DI then did what seemed perfectly natural to him; he let go. A six foot pole in twelve feet of water is not much help to a drowning man. The DI toyed with Al a little longer before finally diving in and saving him. He then made all of us do push-ups because Skinny Al made him get wet.

Skinny Al survived this with a smile on his face. I never saw Al depressed at any point during the remainder of boot camp. Al always had a big infectious smile on his face. You could not come away from a conversation with Al without feeling better.

When life gets me down, I remember Skinny Al. Now if I can just remember where I put his phone number.

Randy Russ
http://www.randyruss.com/