Hannah Palmer set out to find a place where her kids could swim, but soon she, her sons, Guy and Bruno, and her husband, Jason, immersed themselves in a broader mission: to visit every public swimming hole remaining in Atlanta. After wading into the world of secret community pools, historic aquatic centers, retro concrete ponds, and modern splash pads, Hannah and her family soon find themselves bogged down in a system where prejudice has seeped into everything from neighborhood codes to public infrastructure.
This book is Palmer’s first since the excellent Flight Path, which explored the impact of having the world’s busiest airport land in one’s backyard. The Pool is Closed, written in the clear, intimate voice that makes all her work a pleasure to read, revisits the history of public pools and the extraordinary efforts on the part of wealthier white citizens to ensure that—laws be damned—Black and white people in Atlanta (and elsewhere) would not strip down and wade into the water together.
The book’s epistolary format—presenting Palmer’s journey through pages torn from her personal journal—makes for an especially compelling read. Palmer, accompanied by various friends and family members, steps into poisonous creeks, swims uncomfortably in pools that remain segregated, and learns how and why certain water features—once central to life in Atlanta—simply vanished. Along the way, she documents how access to water reflects the racial inequities that lurk just beneath society’s surface.
Why did public pools disappear? How has the historical lack of access to swimming shaped the abilities and attitudes of the Black community? What assumptions underlie community decisions to create—or eliminate—recreational water features? And when development destroys green space, why does the emerging cityscape channel run-off into the poorest neighborhoods?
This brave book blends meticulous research with Palmer’s heartbreaking honesty about the challenges Palmer faces as an advocate for Atlanta’s lost rivers and streams, the mother of a special-needs child, and the wife of an overworked husband with a looming heart attack. If you’re looking for an approachable, engaging book about how our assumptions about water reflect our assumptions about race … dive in. The water’s fine! (For some of us.)
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