Latest news with #lifeguard
CTV News
20 hours ago
- CTV News
Heading to the beach in Barrie? Here's what you need to know before you go
A lifeguard stand is pictured as people keep cool at Centennial Beach in Barrie, Ont. (Rob Cooper/CTV News). The City of Barrie reminds beachgoers to brush up on the rules before heading to the waterfront this summer. Whether you're soaking up the sun at Centennial Beach or dipping your toes in the water at Minet's Point, there are a few key guidelines in place to help keep everyone safe and the area clean, according to the City of Barrie. One of the main rules beach visitors should be aware of is that tents and sunshades are not permitted at Barrie's beaches or waterfront parks. The restriction is in place to preserve clear sightlines for lifeguards and visitors alike. However, standard umbrellas supported by a single pole are allowed. The city is also asking residents to check water quality reports before visiting the beach. The Simcoe Muskoka District Health Unit regularly tests water at public beaches for safety, and results are posted online throughout the summer months. Other important reminders for a safe and enjoyable visit include: Leave no trace: If garbage bins are full, beachgoers are expected to take their waste home with them. No pets allowed: Dogs are not permitted on City beaches. Smoke-free zones: Smoking is strictly prohibited on all City beaches. No private cooking equipment: Personal barbeques, stoves, or any cooking appliances are not permitted on waterfront property — even if they're not in use. Designated community-use barbeques are available at Tyndale Park and Centennial Park, and are open daily. Users are asked to follow posted rules and dispose of used coals only in designated containers — not in regular trash bins.
BBC News
a day ago
- Entertainment
- BBC News
Mural of Peterborough strongman legend Walter Cornelius unveiled
A mural celebrating a "well-loved" strongman, lifeguard and entertainer has been completed in the city that became his Cornelius, who fled his native Latvia in the 1940s and settled in Peterborough, was known for stunts such as pushing a pea with his nose for a mile (1.6km) and attempting to fly across the River artwork was painted by local artist Nathan Murdoch on the back of the former TK Maxx and Woolworths building on Wentworth said when he found out about Mr Cornelius' story, he wondered: "Why is there not more about him in the city?" Mr Murchoch added he had received a great response on social media from people who knew the strongman, who died aged 60 in 1983. "The tales coming are really interesting and he was a very well-known and well-loved person of the city," he said. Mr Cornelius became a favourite with TV viewers after he first appeared on BBC children's programme Blue Peter in 1967, performing a stunt in which presenters Christopher Trace and John Noakes battered his body with returned to the show several times, but his summer day job was as a lifeguard at the lido in Peterborough, where he taught generations of children to swim. Mr Cornelius made the city his home after rowing 400 miles across the Baltic with a Russian bullet wound in his stomach, according to his friend Chris feats included breaking more than 50 World Records and walking on his hands for 153 miles (246km), said Mr Allen. He became known as the "birdman of Peterborough" after an unsuccessful attempt to fly across the Nene for charity on a pair of homemade wings. Yet, the only acknowledgement of Mr Cornelius's story and achievements in the city was a "birdman" silhouette weathervane at the Lido. So Peterborough Positive, the city's Business Improvement District (BID), decided to commission the mural. Pep Cipriano, its chief operating officer, said: "Walter was a colourful, eccentric character and lots of people have great memories of when he was fulfilling all these feats, including going on Blue Peter."He became a Peterborough celebrity and needed to be honoured - but he was also a lifeguard at the Lido and with its 90th anniversary next year; it's a nod to one of its most famous employees."He hopes the publicity will see more people coming forward to share their stories of Mr Cornelius, whose life he described as "a Hollywood film waiting to happen". Follow Peterborough news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
Fox News
2 days ago
- Fox News
Teen lifeguard impaled by beach umbrella returns to work after freak accident: ‘I'm pretty good'
The New Jersey lifeguard impaled by a beach umbrella while working a summer job on the sand is speaking out about the ordeal that almost ended her life. Alex Kaus, 18, was working as a lifeguard on Asbury Park's 3rd Avenue Beach last month when the incident occurred. "Physically, I'm pretty good," Kaus told Kaus was setting up the umbrella when a gust of wind blew her off a lifeguard stand, dropping her on the point end of the 1-inch metal pole, reported. Fellow lifeguards found Kaus lying on the ground with the stake through her left shoulder and sticking out the back of her arm, Asbury Park Fire Chief Kevin Keddy previously told Fox News Digital. First responders cut the umbrella stake off Kaus, making it easier to transport her to the hospital. Three weeks after the incident, Kaus is reportedly back at work, according to the local outlet. While she is not yet guarding beachgoers, the college student is reportedly checking for beach badges as she prepares to head back to school at the University of Wisconsin at Madison. "I hope to have at least like two-ish weeks on the stand before I have to go back to school," Kaus said. Kaus has no exact return date for when she will return to guarding, as she reportedly is waiting to be medically cleared before taking to the water. This summer marks the New Jersey native's second year on the Asbury Park beach, which she chose to apply to after spending time visiting as a child, according to "I knew I liked it here and I knew it was a busy beach and wanted some, like action," Kaus said. With the news of her accident making national headlines, Kaus looked to downplay the attention as she focused on her recovery. "I'm definitely one of those people who's just like, 'It's all good,'" she said. "I'm still processing everything." Kaus is especially thankful for her fellow lifeguards and those who rushed to her rescue. "I'm really grateful to the people that were there with me," Kaus told "My coworkers, Liz and Noah and Patty and Colin, they were all there." Kaus did not immediately respond to Fox News Digital's request for comment. While Kaus is still recovering from her accident, she hopes the level of attention her story created shines some light on the role of lifeguards protecting local beaches up and down the country's coasts. "We appreciate it when people appreciate us as lifeguards," she said. "Because we're out here every day, keeping everybody safe."
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
A Tennessee teen lifeguard saved a man. How the rescue led to a new start for them both
The door between the men's locker room and the indoor pool flew open. 'HELP!' a man screamed. 'I need help! I think this guy is unresponsive!' Katelyn Williams, 18, grabbed her walkie-talkie, told YMCA front-desk staffers to call 911, jumped off the lifeguard stand and ran into the locker room. "My heart dropped," she said. "And I felt an adrenaline rush." Billy Austin, 64, lay crumpled in a bathroom stall. Williams started CPR compressions while a nurse who happened to be at the YMCA at the time hurried in and placed a defibrillator pad on his chest. Thirty compressions, two breaths, a heart shock. Thirty compressions, two breaths, a heart shock. His ribs cracked. His eyes fluttered. He took a few ragged breaths and then — nothing. Thirty compressions, two breaths, again and again, for about 10 minutes. Firefighters and paramedics arrived, put an oxygen mask on Austin and lifted him onto a gurney. Williams stood, shaking and gasping. The nurse hugged her. "You did great," she told Williams. "You did a good job." About 48 hours later, Williams gingerly walked into Austin's hospital room and hugged him. She cried harder than she ever had. The embrace unleashed a flood of emotions she had suppressed for eight years. The lifeguard: Dancing with her dad Williams' two favorite pictures in her bedroom are of her and her dad. In one, she is 9 and they're performing at one of her dance recitals to the "Twilight" movie soundtrack song "A Thousand Years." In another, she's 7 and posing in a floral-patterned dress during a daddy-daughter outing to a restaurant. "No special occasion," she said, "but I was really excited that Dad carved out time just for me." Williams sighed and paused. "Looking at those two pictures," she said, "it's more sad than anything. Every time I talk about my dad, I end up crying or something." Months before Williams was born, her father joined the Virginia State Police. Within a year, he responded to the deadliest school shooting in modern U.S. history, trying to save some of the 30 people killed in Norris Hall at Virginia Tech on April 16, 2007. It was the first of several violent crime scenes Trooper Thomas Andrew "Andy" Williams faced in his 11-year career. He suffered post traumatic stress, but never sought or received mental health treatment, Williams and her mother said. The survivor: Why the Y felt like home Billy Austin boasts, 45 years later, that he once was the youngest waterfront director ever to work at Camp Minikani. He was 19 then, a year older than Williams is now. Sure, he loved canoeing, swimming and building fires there as a kid just outside his hometown of Milwaukee. But that YMCA camp was more than a summer hang, especially after his parents divorced when he was 13. "I came from a home that was not a very functional home," he said. "I didn't really have a feeling of family growing up, but I had that feeling at the Y camps. I lived for summers for that reason. The YMCA felt like family and I always felt at home at the Y." In his teen years there, counselors taught Austin how to play guitar, and he wrote his first songs. Austin, strumming a guitar, sang one of them, "Thinking of You," in front of a bonfire for 250 campers and staffers. "When I got done with the song," he said, "the kids screamed so loud, I turned around because I thought the fire was falling on top of me. But they were screaming for the song." The lifeguard: 'She told me my dad was in heaven' A decade after the Virginia Tech shooting, Williams, on an overnight visit at her grandparents' house, was tossing and turning in bed. She finally drifted off to sleep but woke an hour later. Her mom was sitting at the foot of her bed. "She told me my dad was in heaven," Williams said. "I started crying. Then I heard other family members screaming and crying." Her father died by suicide on April 16, 2017. It was Easter morning, 10 years to the day after the Virginia Tech shootings. Williams and her brother and sister, both younger, stayed home from school that next week, partly to grieve, partly to avoid the barrage of questions that surely would come from classmates in their hometown of Abingdon, Virginia, population 8,000. "The kids and I moved after that," Williams' mom, Maggie Panter, said. "They were uncomfortable that everyone knew what happened." The survivor: A bluegrass band champ Austin eventually learned how to play mandolin and fiddle, and he formed a bluegrass band with fellow Wisconsin musicians, a band they called Northern Hospitality. The fellas toured the U.S. and started scoring invitations to international folk festivals, eventually performing in 17 countries. The game changer for Austin: the 1987 Telluride Band Contest in Colorado. One of more than 200 bands to enter, Northern Hospitality made it to the final 12 that battled it out on stage. The band, the only one to play original songs, hoisted the trophy that night. Afterward, the judges asked who wrote those amazing songs. The guys all pointed to Austin. "Well," one of the judges said, "you need to go to Nashville." When he got to Music City in 1990, Austin looked for a gym. Although other places were far less expensive, he chose the YMCA. "I was here as a starving songwriter," he said, "and I could barely afford a Y membership, but I kept loyal because of my summer camp experiences in Wisconsin." Austin also felt safer there because he knew firsthand of the rigorous first aid training lifeguards and other staffers received. "If anything ever happened to me," he thought, "I'd rather be at a YMCA." The lifeguard: Anger, then understanding At first, Williams was angry at her father for killing himself. "I was 10, and I didn't understand why he would choose to leave us," she said. "Now I have a better understanding of mental health. Him not getting the help he needed put him into a hole he couldn't get out of," she said. "It really wasn't his fault; it was the chemicals in his brain." Some of her friends' dads tried to fill the void, as did her stepdad when her mother remarried a few years later. "I didn't want anyone but my father," Williams said. "I didn't see anyone the same as him." The family moved three times in her teen years, ending up in Hendersonville, Tennessee, in the summer of 2022 because of her stepfather's work. He and Williams' mom split since then. A few weeks later, Williams started at the brand-new Liberty Creek High School in neighboring Gallatin, Tennessee. She made new friends. She really got into her health care classes. Last year, she was sitting at lunch at Jose's Mexican Restaurant with her family one Sunday after church when Williams decided she needed a part-time job. She Googled "jobs for teens" and, right there on her phone, applied for an opening at an ice cream shop. Her mom, who worked for the Hendersonville Chamber of Commerce, suggested Williams reach out to her friend at the YMCA. Within days, Williams had offers to interview for both jobs. The ice cream shop paid $2 more an hour, plus tips. "But I kind of thought lifeguarding would be exciting. I'd already been CPR certified in my health classes," she said, "and I like helping people." In her first nine months on the job, Williams had only one encounter with first aid. "Someone came up to me: 'Hey, ma'am, do you have a Band-Aid?' That's literally the only thing." Until 8:10 p.m. Feb. 10. The survivor: 'I had pneumonia, but I didn't know' In Nashville, Austin found some success as a songwriter, scoring a No. 1 country hit, "Leave the Pieces," with duo the Wreckers in 2006. He started investing in Nashville properties and eventually became a successful real estate developer. A lifelong exerciser, Austin resolved at the beginning of this year to get into better shape. He decided to crank up his cardio workouts to five days a week at the Sumner County YMCA in Hendersonville. Each visit to the gym included at least 20 minutes each on the treadmill, rower, stair-climber and stationary bike. After that regimen Feb. 10, Austin went into the locker room to check text messages and emails. "I felt no pain; it was just a little harder to breathe," he said. "I had pneumonia, but I didn't know." Austin remembers nothing after that — until he woke up two days later in the cardiac intensive care unit at TriStar Hendersonville Medical Center with a tube down his throat. Compressions and cracked ribs Williams remembers every moment with clarity. She ran into the locker room and told the men crowded around to move. Austin lay on his back, motionless. He face was white. His lips were blue. "I just knew that he had no pulse," Williams said. "And I knew that he had been there for a while." Williams counted loudly as she started the first round of chest compressions. One, two, three, four. ... Paula Carney, the nurse who happened to be at the Y that day, came in and gave the man two breaths when Williams reached 30. Williams voice started shaking. "You're doing an amazing job," Carney reassured her. During the second round of compressions, they heard Austin's ribs crack. Carney and another nurse in the building rolled up Austin's shirt, engaged the defibrillator and shocked his heart twice. His eyes opened, but only for a second. He took a few ragged breaths, but only a few. Each flicker of life spurred Williams to keep going. She fought back tears. "I was looking at him ... and I knew that his family cared about him deeply, and I wanted to be that person that gave him another chance at life," she said. "So I gave it my 100%. I wanted to do everything in my power to save him." By the time first responders arrived, Austin had a faint pulse. Some color had returned to his face. As firefighters wheeled him out on the gurney, Williams and Carney stood, embraced and cried. The nurse prayed aloud that the man would survive. Carney and another nurse who'd helped, McKay Muhlenstein, both told Williams what a great job she did. When they left, Williams called her boss, YMCA aquatic director Carson Perry. "Hey, um, so, um, like, I just had to give CPR," she said. "Are you serious?" Perry said. Williams started crying again, and Perry told her he was coming to the Y. Williams looked around, started scrubbing the pool deck and came to a decision. After graduation, she would start training to be an emergency room nurse. What if he has brain damage? That night, Williams couldn't stop replaying the incident in her head, couldn't stop wondering if Billy Austin was going to be OK. The next day at volleyball team practice, Williams broke down in tears. Williams went back to the YMCA and looked up Austin's emergency contact in the computer system. She called the name listed, Austin's longtime friend and his business partner's wife, Tiffany Friedmann. Friedmann said Austin was on a ventilator at TriStar Hendersonville Medical Center. The next morning, Friedmann called back with good news: Austin was conscious, off the ventilator and talking. Williams had to see for herself. In her health care class scrubs, Williams grabbed two of her teachers and headed to the hospital, her stomach roiling. What if he has brain damage? He was unresponsive for at least four minutes. What if he can't speak to me? "Oh, my God, I can't thank you enough!" Friedmann told Williams in the hall outside. Already teary, Williams entered the room and bent down to hug the man she saved. "She just kind of collapsed on my hospital bed and threw her arms around me, started raining tears down," Austin said, "She was sobbing uncontrollably, which was so sweet." Williams said she felt in that moment that she and Austin would always be connected. "'God knew I needed you," she told him. "That's why he let me save you." A lifelong bond Williams and Austin stayed in touch. She told him about her dad. "It was just an instant bond that you can't describe," Austin said. Williams asked Austin to come by her house and see her off on prom night. Then she invited him to her high school graduation. Yes, and yes, he said with no hesitation. "All my friends, ... we knew at that moment that she was a daughter to me, that she was family, that this is a lifelong bond." Williams and Austin have talked or texted with each other every day since the Feb. 12 hospital visit. He took Williams, her boyfriend, and her mom to dinner the night of her prom. And he cheered her on in May when she got her high school diploma. When Williams got accepted to Galen College of Nursing in Nashville, Austin pledged to help with tuition and her other education expenses. And Austin hopes his biological daughter, Katie Austin, a physician's assistant in Wisconsin, can mentor Williams as she goes through nursing classes. At a one-on-one dinner in June, Williams asked Austin to legally adopt her. Austin, deeply moved, said he's considering it. Williams' mother, Maggie Panter, celebrates her daughter's relationship with Austin. 'He's another family member to us," Panter said. "I think it's a beautiful thing, and I think her dad would support that.' Austin and Williams talk often with each other about how blessed they feel that they were connected so deeply, albeit by such a traumatic event. Austin summed it up in words that are now tattooed on Williams' left forearm. "Too good to not be God." Reach Brad Schmitt at brad@ or 615-259-8384. This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: A TN Teen YMCA lifeguard finds father figure in man who she saved Solve the daily Crossword
BBC News
4 days ago
- BBC News
A day in the life of Langland Bay beach huts
It's a perfect day for the beach. At midday, the Swansea Bay tide is just past its lowest point and a broad swathe of sun-baked sand is exposed, along with a scattering of rocky electric foil boards, two wetsuit-clad men climb the promenade steps after finishing a display of effortless skimming over the water. Out on the sparkling water a pair of more conventional stand-up boarders use elbow grease and paddles to power their red and yellow flags mark out the supervised bathing area, overseen by a lifeguard seated at a midpoint on a high chair, as a few dozen groups of sunbathers dot the beach. A school day still, the beach clientele and those strolling along the prom or heading to the beachside café comprise mainly of parents with toddlers and older overlooking the whole scene are the green and white beach huts, which have stood in one form or another for 100 years, curving along the edges of the beach in a graceful backstop to the sands and tides of Langland Bay in Swansea. There are stories of cabins which sell for the cost of a house, but here democracy reigns; the huts, owned by the council, are available only to residents of the county, and only via a ballot each year, ensuring everyone has a chance of securing a turn in one of the 80 the second time Liz Symons has been successful in the ballot. She and five friends club together and each applies, but it took them seven years to get lucky the first time, in in that year, they have a three-month £651 lease on the cabin which takes them from the start of July through to the end of didn't waste any time on moving in day. They were at the hut by 06:30 GMT the first day, cleaning and decorating to make it their own, after weeks pondering what the all-important theme would be."We decided pink this year as a friend of ours died last year, and she was all into pink," Liz explains, sitting in front of the - what else? - pink voile curtains that frame the doorway. "So it's a bit of a thing for her."The year before, it was a seaside theme. We're even thinking ahead now, and maybe a tiki bar theme for our next one. You've got to theme it, you see." Liz visits every day, and indeed this is already the third time her family has used the hut today. An early walk for her mother's dog, a drink at the hut and home by 10:00. Next her husband comes with their own dog for a walk; now she is back to enjoy the afternoon sunshine in the company of one of her hut friends, who arrived earlier to enjoy some quiet reading time we chat, a third member of the consortium calls out as she walks past on the promenade below the huts, also heading around the popular headland that separates Langland Bay from Caswell Bay. It is clear that the hut is a fantastic boon for conviviality and well as the casual daily visits, they "tend to have one party per month", she reveals. "It's the full hog. We get a delivery from one of the curry houses in Mumbles to bring kebabs down. It's great fun."Tenants are prohibited from remaining overnight in the cabins but Liz's group have stayed to about 23:00 some nights."It gets pitch dark as there's no light down here at all, so that's the only problem," she notes. "We had fairy lights and things but down here you can't see a thing [otherwise]." Her hut neighbours come very early every morning to go swimming - "there's about 10 of them" - but never return later in the day, and surprisingly, she does not see many people, despite the number of huts."Most of them are always empty," she says, gesturing to the long row of mostly unoccupied huts and then the sun-kissed beach. "This is the crazy thing. You look down there, it's a beautiful day. It's mad."During both this and her previous rental, she has only ever seen 11 huts occupied at the same time, whether on a weekday, weekends or during the school holidays. A former hut renter also tells the same of the few downsides is the cost of parking. There is one short street with free parking next to the beach, and no concessions for renters in the council car park apart from the general Swansea resident discount of 50p off most tariffs. At £6 for four hours or £8 for nine, this could soon add plenty to the cost of renting. As well as a meeting place for friends, Liz, 65, sees the beach hut as a temporary refuge from responsibility."Our mothers are not well. We're of an age now, our mothers are in their 80s and they need help at home - that's one of the reasons I gave up work 10 years ago, because my mother was ill," she explains."At the same time, you've got to have time for yourself, and this is just perfect. I can't go abroad now because I've got my mother to look after, so look at this. It's fab." Unlike Liz, former double-glazing fitter Keith Grimshaw, 68, hit the jackpot with his very first application this year after retiring. "When you're working, it's not worth it," he says."My grandson and granddaughters come down and use it. I've got three in Swansea and two in Caerphilly. We've been five days so far."It's just peaceful, and tranquil. You can just sit here and enjoy it." 'Make the most of the lovely weather' Eight days into the rental, they are starting to find a routine with the hut. He chooses to walk his dog beforehand as it gets too hot in the hut for the dog to be comfortable, and then he and his wife will come down about 11:00, and settle in for the passersby call up to Keith at one point, asking questions about the hut, revealing that they are looking to move to the area and are even more keen now on learning that it would make them eligible to get a hut in will be competing with Keith, that's for sure. He says: "We'll try every year. They said this was a record year for people applying as well, so I don't think that's going to get any better." As the afternoon lengthens, Sally Thomas arrives at her mother's hut, a few doors along from Liz. The 46-year-old PCSO has come with her friend and their children."Straight from school now, we're going to make the most of the lovely weather," she two kids scramble into wetsuits and grab body boards before racing off to the sea with one mother in tow, as Sally explains her family has a history with mother rented one of the former canvas beach huts, which used to sit on the pebbles at the top of the beach itself, until a large storm washed them away over 40 years ago."She thought she'd try her luck [this year] and got it first time. I remember coming down when I was a child so I had fond memories of being down on the beach." "We had a grand opening last week. My mum put all the bunting up and there's a little bar in there, so we've got our prosecco and cakes and things - make the most of it."The bar was already installed when they arrived, and a few handy hooks up on the walls, which are being put to good use for swimming paraphernalia."It's good to have a base, rather than carrying everything around. It's just easier." As Sally works in the neighbourhood policing team in Mumbles, the closest settlement to Langland, she often patrols the beach area with work. "I'm here quite a bit," she notes, adding she can see the other side to the idyllic beach when nights come and occasionally anti-social behaviour bubbles like Liz, Sally views the hut as a place to come to escape from life's pressures for a while."You think, enjoy the day and not worry about other things. It's therapy for me."
