Michele M. Bender | Wet and wild

JOHNSTOWN, Pa. – My fondest memories of summers past always include water. Images tumbled out of my head when I read The Tribune-Democrat’s item reporting newly launched efforts to revive Ligonier Beach.

My first glimpse of a public swimming facility was that showstopper pool surrounded by sand. Dad heard about it, and we took a Sunday drive to scope it out. It looked delightful.

Dad, a non-swimmer, agreed to chauffeur us over the mountain for Sunday dips, always followed by a restaurant stop.

Mom, a “Hollywood junkie,” heard a rumor that, as a young man, Perry Como lifeguarded there. (I couldn’t make this stuff up.) On our visits, we kept an eye out in case he decided to drop by.

In 1958, Cathy (Cincinnati Cathy, now BFF since age 3) told me about North Fork Country Club. Not fond of (nor good at) driving, she wished it was closer, but the ambience won her over.

Women slathered with Bain de Soleil or Coppertone sautéed in web chairs while kids jumped and splashed.

Cathy swam like a fish.

Me? Well, I didn’t drown, but I was no Esther Williams.

My uncle bought a beach house in Jersey in the early ’60s. We’d vacation there for chunks of summer. I saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time ever. In ’64, Cathy went with us. Thoroughly captivated, we vowed to return.

In June 1966, we rode the Pennsylvania Limited to Philly where we caught the Shore train to Cape May, New Jersey, in search of summer jobs to earn senior year money (senior pictures, winter formal, yearbook, class ring, prom gown, cap and gown rental ... and all-important tassel purchase).

Businesses staggered shifts so teens could body-surf and bronze but still hold jobs. That summer, I may have reached my water-recreation pinnacle.

I treasure memories of the backyard pool we had on Colgate Avenue. Between the pool heater and the solar cover, I maintained near-sauna temperatures. Every weekend, neighbors flocked to Sunday Pool and Pizza Day (I forbade grilling while children romped).

Despite some lifestyle adjustments, I made sure everyone in the “hood” was properly chlorinated with a balanced pH until 2002.

Friends kid me about my mermaid obsession. Twenty years ago, at a funeral gathering, someone mentioned reincarnation.

“What would you come back as, Michele?” a cousin asked.

Without hesitation, I replied, “A mermaid! Float in warm water all day; endless supply of yummy, healthy shellfish; never have a bad hair day and, best of all – never have to shave your legs.”

May your summer be heart-warming, wonderful, memorable ... but not fuzzy.