Marvin’s Family

College wrapped up; I got my degree and I took the best job I could find with a liberal arts degree and a bad economy: reading light and water meters for a nearby town.

Although it was just a stop-gap, I loved the freedom of walking outdoors all day through the neighborhoods. At the end of the day, I turned in my readings and I was free to go home or take night classes at the local tech school.

One particularly hot, sunny summer day, the boss dropped me off at the beginning of my route and I started reading the meters, going from each water meter, (typically at the curb) to the light meter, typically on the left or right side of the house. I rounded the corner onto a quiet dead-end street and saw about seven or eight pre-school kids taking turns running through a lawn sprinkler, every one of them naked as could be. I smiled, thinking what fun it must be for them, and felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing I could enjoy the day with fewer clothes.

As I approached their yard, I could see two ladies sitting on the front porch. One of them, called out to the kids and like a herd of deer, they ran to the back yard and out of sight. Then she walked over to shut off the spigot so I could reach the water meter without getting wet. My record book told me that this was Marvin Hammond’s home, one of my fellow meter readers! So I called out to the lady on the left, “Hey, I’m Rick! Aren’t you Marvin’s wife?

“Sure am!" she replied.

“Well, tell him that since he’s on our team, I read the light meter as low as possible!”

She laughed and said, “I know you did, but it’s still never low enough!”

I could hear the kids laughing and shouting in the back yard. I suppose about half of them were Marvin’s kids and the others belong to the other lady.

As I made my way out of this side street toward the main road, I heard the whoosh of the sprinkler again and knew that those happy kids would soon be back at it.

Their play in the sprinkler reminded me of what Carla had described on that Florida beach: a carefree moment that many children experience, but for adults tends to be nothing more than a happy memory. “Except”, I thought, “for a lucky few grown folks who have a special beach where you can relive the most fun moments of childhood”.

Nothing a Nurse Doesn’t See Every Day

Having left my college town for the city, I began looking for a new church home. I heard about a large church with an active singles department and inspiring worship services. I met someone named Cindy at one of our church retreats and we seemed to hit it off right away.

Cindy was a nurse at a local hospital. She wasn’t a member at my church but we have such a huge singles program that singles from small churches sometimes join us for retreats just to meet other singles. Cindy and I continued to date as winter turned into summer. One day, I took her to a hiking trail that ran along one of our big mountain rivers. It was a secluded spot and it was a very hot day. I remarked, “I have really worked up a sweat with all this hiking. That water looks so inviting, but I didn’t bring anything to swim in”. She shrugged and said, “It’s that time of the month and I need to stay on dry land, but go ahead, peel off your clothes and jump in. Remember, I am a nurse; I see naked people every day.” I was a little astonished at first, but after thinking about it, I realized that nudity probably is commonplace to many nurses.

As I was about to undress, another couple walked right by us down the trail, so I dropped my plans for a nude swim. Still, it was no fun being sweaty all day. Wish I’d waited for the coast to clear and stripped off. I don’t think I would have offered Cindy much entertainment by skinny dipping. Nothing a nurse like her doesn’t see most every day.

Unbeknownst to me, Cindy was dating another boy at the same time she was going out with me. Eventually she opened up and admitted that there was “someone else” and added saying that she had decided to date him only. I was really annoyed that she kept her second boyfriend a secret. But the unvarnished truth was that I was her spare, the guy she dated when her primary boyfriend had to work late or was out of town. I was even less happy about that. I usually don’t harbor ill feelings after a breakup, but this girl had broken my trust and respect, not merely broken off a relationship. I still think it is cool how matter-of-fact she was about nudity.

Keith Shares His Story

With a few computer courses under my belt, my work-life began to take an upward turn.

I found clerical work at a nearby college using my newly acquired skills.

But I was still up to my ears in student loans. With my tight budget in mind, I found a cheap 2- bedroom basement apartment to share with a guy named Keith. He was originally from Boston, an observant Irish Catholic, and one day we were sitting around shooting the breeze and he told me about going to a nude beach on Martha’s Vineyard with his brother. He saw that I didn’t immediately object, so he continued, “I loved the freedom of it and don’t think there is anything immoral about it, although you might hear talk against it from people who don’t know what it is like. It was a safe respectful environment. I would not even worry about my own sister visiting such a place”.

I did not initiate this conversation and I was beginning to wonder if God had been using all these people over the years to encourage me to continue to learn more about it.

Marta

One day at work I met a charming girl, a recent immigrant from Europe named Marta. Conversation flowed easily right away and our conversations soon led to dates on our days off.

Marta was all about hiking and camping. As we grew better acquainted, we did a lot of both.

One summer Marta's twelve-year-old brother, Al came to visit from his home in the Midwest. Marta and I decided to take Al camping with us on the coast. After setting up camp, we were ready for our hike to the beach. Al was even more ready to visit the ocean than either Marta or I. He lived so far from the ocean that this was a rare treat for him. So as soon as we reached the shore, we waded chest deep out into the surf, laughing, talking and occasionally body surfing a wave back to the shore. Standing in chest deep water, Marta grinned and said, "Hey Al, let's go skinny dipping!" He replied, "Are you kidding? What if someone comes walking down the beach and sees us?" Marta said, "Think about it! You are in chest deep water, no one can see a thing. Slip off your trunks and hook them around your arm". No sooner than Marta had suggested it, I was already slipping my trunks off under the water. When Al saw that I was now wearing my trunks around my right arm and Marta wearing her suit on her arm, he wasn't about to miss out on his first chance at skinny dipping. We could see how much fun the boy was having leaping in the surf like a porpoise, free from those old trunks. But suddenly Al was even more free of his trunks than he intended! A freak wave lifted him up and pulled his trunks right off the crook of his arm. In seconds he was ten feet, twenty feet from his trunks. We cried out, "Al, go get them! It's a long walk back to camp without your clothes!” We could hardly stand up we were laughing so hard. Finally, with a lot of furious paddling and a final lunge, Al grabbed his trunks and clutched them tightly in his fist for a few seconds before he could summon the courage to slip his legs back into them.

We did have a good laugh at his expense, but if he had actually lost his trunks to the sea, I would have given him mine to wear and I would have walked back to camp with all the dignity one can muster under such circumstances, especially with two friends laughing at you.

Camping by the River with Friends

On another campout with Marta, we were joined by one of my buddies named Lee and a mutual friend new to camping named Janine. To illustrate how new to camping she was, Janine offered to bring bottled water for us to drink in camp, but when we took a look at it, we saw that she had brought bottled salt water, some sort of health tonic from a rare saltwater spring. That’s fine for a tonic, but we were hoping for something to quench thirst! Janine was very apologetic and embarrassed. We told her not to worry, we'd just boil the river water for drinking. The river water was not murky, so after boiling and cooling, it met all our needs on the campout.

After a day of hiking, everyone decided to take a nighttime bath in the river, so the guys found one river pool and the girls another pool only a few feet away from us.

Janine attended a really strict, gossipy church, so for her peace of mind, we set everything up so no one could say that she had been nude with guys present. To guarantee privacy, we first set soap and towels within easy reach on a rock ledge by the river pools, and we all turned off our flashlights.

Then under cover of darkness, each of us undressed, bathed and then we simply enjoyed nature's own Jacuzzi jets buffeting every inch of our bare bodies. If you let go of the rock ledge, the current would pull you into the eddy, your body would swirl around the natural pool until you came back to the spot where you first let go. After a good hour of this river massage and body surfing, we stepped up to the flat rock ledge in the darkness, dressed and turned lights back on when everyone gave the 'all-clear'. Girls and guys then reunited at the trail on the riverbank just above us. Lee had adapted well to naked river bathing, but Janine entered the water very apprehensive about the whole thing, but I think once she realized that she and Marta were in their own pool and that no one could see her in the thick darkness, she realized that she could enjoy the experience. Nothing was going to happen to her, well almost nothing.

Although her bath was private and she didn't lose her bath supplies to the river, Janine's one-piece swimsuit was old and she popped one of the shoulder straps in two as she put it back on. So Janine walked back to camp holding her towel and soap in one hand, while clutching desperately to the broken halves of her swimsuit straps to avoid sudden exposure. She succeeded in holding things together, but it was a nerve-wracking walk for the poor girl. Lee and I were walking ahead of the girls, so she knew we couldn't see her, but this was all so new for her: being naked in the river and then wearing nothing but a failing swimsuit on a wilderness trail...I wanted to tell her, "Janine, you are among friends, please don't be embarrassed about your body", but I figured the less said the better.

Finally we made it back to camp. Once she was back into more trustworthy clothes, Janine breathed a sigh of relief and had a clear sense of satisfaction that she had tried something new: nighttime skinny dipping, and the world had not come to an end; in fact, her world was looking a little better.

Going Natural in a Mountain River

The next summer, Marta decided that she'd like to visit her friend Wanda in the mountains of North Carolina. Wanda was her landlady's daughter and had offered us a log cabin with several guest rooms. Marta and I each had a room of our own and Wanda made me feel just as welcome as she did Marta. One morning, Marta and I decided to go exploring. Wanda suggested the river a few miles away. The river is a wild raging whitewater torrent and lies deep in a canyon. Fortunately, the difficult walk down to the canyon bottom gave us lots of privacy as we swam. Marta kept her swimsuit on because the trail crossed the part of the river where she was swimming and she was a little nervous about being seen, but I told her that I was going just out of sight to swim a more natural way. She smiled and let me be myself. The trunks came off and I stepped naked into the river. It had been hot sweaty work getting down to the bottom of the canyon and the water was clean and cold. But the river was also swift and I felt the current pull me swiftly downstream. Even though I was on the very banks of the river, I knew I needed to swim with all my might to remain safe. With a few good strong strokes, I grabbed a boulder and climbed out of the water and headed back to my towel and trunks. Marta had my camera and photographed me lying on my towel, warming my body in the sun after that chilly dip and very relieved that I had not been swept downstream. This was a private photo, certainly not something to post online. Preoccupied with fighting the current and getting warm in the sun I forgot that I was naked, but Marta, shy as she was about her own nudity, was happy for my freedom. She said, "When I saw you from a distance bathing in the river and stepping naked onto dry land to dry off, it looked like you are a part of nature; your natural state is, well, natural!" I grinned from ear to ear, feeling the same way myself, but wishing that one day, Marta and I would stumble upon a place where she could feel confident without her clothes as well. I put my swim trunks and shoes back on for the long hike back to the canyon rim. This had been a swim like no other.

She came to call me her “nudist boyfriend” because I loved to go skinny-dipping when we went on hikes to secluded spots in the mountains, at the seashore and anywhere in between. She was a bit shy about nudity herself, but she enjoyed seeing me in my natural state in the woods and in the water. I protested to her, "I am not a nudist! After all, I don’t live in a nudist colony”, but I began to wonder if her nickname for me had a lot of truth in it.

We couldn’t agree on our religious beliefs and some aspects of our personalities were a definite mismatch, so we drifted apart. But this relationship was much more like two adults who really loved one another and much less like a teenage crush or casual dating. Progress!

After a couple of years she graduated, headed out of town and I continued working at this college a couple more years.

Nadine’s Surprising Invitation

One of the young women I worked with, Nadine was in my department and we had time to talk almost every day, almost always in private. We were both members of the same denomination, although from different congregations. Denominational differences are not a bar to friendship, but Nadine and I found that it does help to share those beliefs and heritage.

One day Nadine told me that she was learning about nudism and wanted to know if I would like to try it at her house, say for dinner and a movie. I was taken aback by this. She was a very sweet girl and I don’t think Nadine was coming on to me, so I talked with her a bit more to find out what she was thinking. I was so flattered by her trust in me and I would never anything to embarrass her or take advantage of the situation. Was she at least thinking romance? Well, she was a single woman, very attractive, the right age for us to date. But I didn’t want to lead her on. I was looking for a girl who had at least had some college under belt, a more professional type person, and to top it off, I was still a bit on the rebound from my relationship with Marta. And what about her nosy friend Judy? I don’t think Nadine would set me up for this, but if Judy popped in while Nadine and I were naked on the couch, I’d never hear the end of it at work.

An established nudist would, in general be much more comfortable with a casual dinner and a movie at home date with another nudist, but even for a nudist, this setting might be too intimate for a first date. So hoping to err on the side of caution I did not accept her invitation, but I never breathed a word about this to a soul at work.

For a while I wondered where Nadine had picked up the idea of nudism, but my best guess is that it may have been from nosy Judy, who had recently moved here from South Carolina and had lived very close to a nudist camp. I can’t explain it fully, but after you have met a lot of nudists, sometimes you correctly guess that a person is a nudist prior to actually confirming it. So I don’t have hard evidence, but this is how Nadine may have learned about nudism.

Reconnecting with an Old College Friend

My caving buddy Marshall had been one of my best friends throughout college. He had grown up on a farm and was a business major in college. His church was similar to mine in doctrine and we would often pray with one another through girlfriend troubles, prayed our way through the stress of upcoming exams and really began exploring the Bible for what it had to say. Eventually, our Bible studies together began taking on more and more other people. We did not shy away from gray areas or even controversial topics. We were not necessarily trying to push people into accepting our particular church’s outlook, rather we were trying to get people to read the Bible and think about what the Holy Spirit was trying to say. Many of the students were too reliant on their pastors for the “right interpretation”. I am of course always grateful for the seminary training most pastors obtain, but one must never assume that their exegesis skills have reached the point of infallibility. Although neither Marshall and I were nudists at this point in our lives, our direct reliance on the Bible, guided by the Holy Spirit and prayerful discussion with one another put me on a path that would ward off the misguided prudishness that characterizes many American Christians. Although my experiences with First-Person Christianity freed me to enjoy nudism, that was only one of many spiritual benefits that came from being able to stand on my own two feet spiritually. I certainly am not saying that we cannot learn from others, particularly those with formal theology training, but there is such thing as over-dependence on church “authorities” for all of life’s answers.

Several years after graduation, while I was still working at the college, I got a phone call from Marshall inviting me to a wedding: his wedding! He had met a girl named Melinda and was excited for me to meet her too. A long weekend was coming and I arranged to take an extra day off from work so we could visit for a few days before the Big Event.

It took me several hours to make the drive down from my home in the big city to Marshall’s home in the piney woods down on the coastal plain. The weather was blazing hot like it always is down in his part of the state. The day I arrived, Marshall had to work one last day, so he said, “Rick, how’d you like to go fishing? My future father-in-law has a one-acre pond plumb eat up with bass, bream and catfish and he told me that you were welcome to make use of it!”

Nothing I love better than a day of fishing, and I gladly accepted his offer. Good host that he was, Marshall handed me his best fishing pole and we stopped by a bait shop for a few goodies to tempt the fish, a sandwich and a drink for me and we continued to the in-law’s farm. Man, was it ever way out in the country! We left the blacktop and drove along a long dusty farm road, passing pines, pastures and soybean fields, hardly a house in sight.

Marshall’s truck rounded the bend and halted at a picturesque pond. “This is it, Rick!” he announced. “I wish I didn’t have to work, but we’ve got way too much going on at the store today”. I’ll be by to get you late this afternoon”. In a few moments, it was just me and the fish at this quiet little lake. Well, I was beginning to wonder if it were just me. I tried every bit of bait I had and not a single fish was stirring today. It was just too hot! I looked down at my t-shirt, shorts and shoes and said, “It’s too hot for me, too!” Looking left and right, there wasn’t a house nearby, no farmers cultivating fields, absolutely no one. “Why on earth am I wearing these clothes?” I asked myself. I set the pole down, peeled off every stitch and walked right into that pond just as bold as can be. The relief from the heat was instant. I swam that pond end to end, savoring the sensation of the water gliding against my skin as if I were one of this lake’s elusive fish.

After a good workout doing several more laps in the pond, I was ready to stretch out in the sun. I emerged from the pond, put down my t-shirt on the pine straw to provide a little less poke from the straw and let the sun dry my body. I finished my afternoon at the pond without a bit of clothing. Eventually I heard Marshall’s truck rambling over the dirt and gravel road off in the distance, so I put my clothes back on and gathered up my tackle and lunch bag.

“So, how was your afternoon?” Marshall asked as we began the long ride back to his apartment in town.

“I didn’t catch a thing in this heat, but I got in a lot of swimming”, I replied. “By the way, I didn’t have any trunks, so I went skinny dipping”.

Marshall just laughed and said, “Welcome to the country! Ain’t no need for swim trunks around here!”

A couple of days later, we got my good buddy married and I was proud to be a groomsman for him. Melinda was a sweet girl and I wish them all the happiness in the world.

As for my fishing trip, I was struck by how easy a bit of impromptu nude recreation can be for country folks and how much more difficult it is to arrange in the city. If it weren’t already obvious, I see country living in my future!

END - Part 3

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