Synchronized swimmer Candy Heulitt was a teenager when her coach, Muriel Parry, asked her to work with a nice woman at their pool. It was the early 1970s, and the pool was the Northern Virginia Aquatic Club, a former recreation facility in Arlington’s Cherrydale neighborhood.
The woman was interested in learning some “water ballet,” as they called the sport (it’s now referred to as “artistic swimming”). Over the next few months, Heulitt taught her eager protege several signature moves, which she picked up fairly easily.
Sometime later, Heulitt attended an athletic awards ceremony at Langley High School in McLean and was stunned to discover that the evening’s keynote speaker—Olympic swimmer Shelley Mann—was the same woman she’d been coaching at the pool. Mann had never once mentioned the two medals she’d earned at the 1956 Olympics in Melbourne, Australia.
Born in New York City in 1937, Mann moved to Arlington with her family as a young girl. When she was six, polio paralyzed her right leg, raising concerns that she might never walk again. Physical therapy eventually restored her mobility, but swimming is how she built her strength and confidence.
By age 10, Mann had joined the Walter Reed Swim Club at Walter Reed Hospital, where her father, a U.S. Naval officer, was stationed. Later, in between attending dances and football games at Washington-Lee High School (now Washington-Liberty), Mann racked up several national and North American competitive titles before qualifying for the U.S. Olympic team.
She was 19 when she won gold in Melbourne and set a world record in the 100-meter butterfly, followed by a silver in the 100-meter freestyle relay. (The current reigning Olympic champion in the women’s 100-meter butterfly is another Arlingtonian, Torri Huske.)
Upon her triumphant return, Mann received a ceremonial key to the city from the D.C. government, and was honored at a celebration at W-L. In the years that followed, she taught swimming to both children and adults.
When asked about her teaching philosophy, she deflected from herself. “The teaching is not the thing,” she told The Washington Post in 1965. “It is the learning which is important.”
Mann died in 2005 and is buried in a family plot in Staunton, Virginia. “She was patient with me, and I was patient with her,” recalls Heulitt, who now lives in Arkansas. “I’m so glad I knew her.”
