Tinker's Quarry

It was just a hole in the ground -- nothing special.

In the distant past, this hole was enlarged as men mined the rock for gravel roads. They dug deep and wide. Eventually, they hit water and that hole became a lake.

We discovered Tinker’s quarry when we were thirteen. We were cutting across a field to get to Brett’s farm and there it was.

It was beautiful.

The quarry was crystal clear water -- cold on the hottest of August days. Twenty foot cliffs to the water’s edge circling three quarters of the lake -- a single, sloping, winding road to the water with a fantastic sixty foot wall of rock rising from the water directly across from where the road met the water. We knew when we first saw the lake that someday we would each have to prove our manhood by jumping from the top of “gut check” cliff.

The quarry became a summer meeting place for the “kids in the know.” As we grew older, it became more than just a meeting place. It became our identity.

I was seventeen when I made the commitment to jump. It was a test of courage. However, it just wasn’t the 60 feet. It was also that ledge 5 feet below the water and extending 15 feet out into the lake that made you question your sanity. When standing at the top of “gut check”, it seemed it would be impossible to clear the ledge. This was truly a leap of faith. I knew it was possible, though. Scott, John, and Tom had done it earlier that summer. At least, they said they had.

I had worked out in the morning. I was pumped. This was the time to do the jump. I had been thinking about it all summer. I decided that I would have to do it alone because I didn’t want anyone laughing at me when I was standing at the top with my knees shaking. On the other hand, who would take my dead carcass to the morgue when I crashed into the rock ledge below? It didn’t matter -- since I was the one that would be dead. So, alone it would be.

It was a hot, muggy, humid, typical August Iowa day. I rode my bike the 2 miles to the quarry. No one was there. It was time. I walked to the top of “gut check” and for the thousandth time I looked down on the ledge and the lake. My God this is high! How to do it? I would have to run to the ledge and jump as far out as I could to clear the obstacles below. This meant that I would not see the water until I jumped. I can’t do this.

I must. I’m seventeen. I’ve kissed a girl. I play football. I’m a man. Jump I must. I step back about 20 feet from the edge. This is just like tackling that monster fullback from Newman-Sterling. You just gotta do it . . . and so I do.

I run as fast as I can. At the edge, I leap. Oh my. . .will I ever land? The water hits me. It feels like the time when I was ten. I thought I was superman and I jumped from the roof of the house. Only now, I’m underwater. I’m deep under water. It’s cold. I have to get to the surface. Two, maybe three, strokes and I’m breaking into the sunlight.

I DID IT! Nothing can scare me now. I’m a man. I’m the man. I gotta do this when someone is watching.

I dry off. Get on my bike and ride home. I’m different now than what I was twenty minutes ago. I met the challenge and beat it. I don’t know if Scott or the other guys jumped, but I know I did. I’ve taken the test and passed. I’m a man.

That little episode changed my life. I had a self-respect that I hadn’t had til then. I knew that there was nothing I couldn’t do if I tried. My horizons became wider. I was changed.

Tinker’s Quarry – who would have thought that it would have such an impact on my life? When I think of it today, it is more than just a memory. It is a memory mark. I can’t help but smile when I think of Tinker’s quarry. My life changed that day. My future became. . . brighter. Some may give credit to a teacher, a mentor, a friend for changing their life. I credit a quarry.

I think of the quiet beauty on a winter day sitting in my car looking down on the frozen water below. I think of the cold, clear water on a hot July day. I picture my friends swimming, laughing, relaxing where the road meets the water. I think of growing up in Iowa – confused, knowing I don’t know, struggling to keep up with my friends in school, sports, relationships . . . life.

And then, there is Tinker’s Quarry.