Reminiscing

June 7, 2007
By: Dick Hinson


I visited a place known as Kissingen Springs only once, but came away with two vivid memories: one comical and one sad. Let’s begin with the funny one. Attending college on the post WWII "G.I. Bill", the year was 1947. I had become acquainted with a fellow student, a young lady from Bartow. We began to meet more often than by chance. Invited to come to Polk County during a cool spring weekend, my girlfriend said "Let’s go swimming!" "It’s too cold", I replied. "Oh, come on", she urged, we’ll have a good time!" she directed my drive to the springs, a short distance to the southeast.

The entrance was open, but the grounds were deserted. There was a large turn of the century frame pavilion, with decks extending to the waters edge. The primary spring came from a wide sinkhole, blue and clear to a sloping depth of some thirty feet. A beautiful place surrounded by ancient cypress trees, the stream flowed into the nearby Peace River.

Walking out of the dressing room in swim trunks, I found my date shivering under a beach towel at the water’s edge. "You go on in", she urged, "and I’ll wait for a few minutes". I swam for thirty minutes. She never got wet…a year or two later, I asked my wife why she insisted on watching me swim that frigid morning. She was ready to confess: "My wise old grandmother had warned me to never become seriously interested in any man who had a tattoo. I knew about your navy service, and suspected that you had one or more!" meanwhile, I had been inspected like a beef animal at an auction market. So much for the workings of the female mind…

Now comes the sad memory…Three years later, Kissingen Springs was a dry hole. A phosphate mining operation in the general area had cut off the water flow to the springs. Similar in relative location to our Blue Springs, Bartow and Polk County had lost their primary recreation facility. The public reaction was intense. State, County, and City officials all expressed dismay and scheduled hearings and investigations. The phosphate company joined in the apology, but was apparently operating within the authorized engineering guidelines. It was obvious to everyone that the guidelines were not adequate. With ample funds available, how do you go about restoring a spring? It came as a shock to some that the gift of nature was gone forever. The phosphate company moved away.

Charles Wright, a friend who lives near Blue Springs, told us that large crowds were enjoying the water. Vehicles had overflowed the facility and were parked along the highway in recent days. If Blue Springs is ever lost under our existing requirements for aquifer and/or pollution protections, we can safely predict the largest gathering on record at an emergency meeting of our elected officials. Now, who will step forward to explain the mistakes to the angry crowd? If you don’t mind, I’ll pass…