When representatives
of the six investment groups gathered for the Splash Time ground-breaking
ceremony, I remember seeing it on the news and thinking it would probably take
a summer or two for me and my buddies to make the trek to Jonesboro. I remember
thinking that 3,200,000 square feet of water park sounded pretty freakin’ big,
but -- like most square-foot measurements -- I couldn’t picture the size. I
remember imagining the ease with which a 20-year-old might blow $100 in an
afternoon there, and I remember feeling anxious about the infinite number of
girls a guy might meet at a place like that. On the contrary, it never occurred
to me that I would become the largest news story in the destination’s history,
just 14 months into its existence. All of those things turned up true.
August 12th
had been perfect. Hank Zeller’s birthday had been circled on the calendar since
late June, and our numbers rounded out somewhere near 11. This meant three
cars, but three cars in comfort. We never had anything planned that far in
advance, but it didn’t matter if we had a spot in mind six minutes or six weeks
in advance: Who -- outside of Hank -- would drive was always a ridiculous
conversation. Because he thought his ride was slick, and because he wanted to
be in control, Hank always drove. Always. Plans, then -- when we had them --
would become concrete, and a seat assignment cage match would ensue. When the
group was bigger than five, the excuses would come out like cellophanes of Molly
at a Disco Biscuits show.
