Farewell

A few days ago, I went up to the camp I spent my pre-teen and teen summers in. It was there I made some of the best friends I ever had. I still do. At our campfire, I was sitting with people who said, “We’ve known each other for over forty years. We are old.” We are. For those of you that saw Chris Rock’s show, “The MotherF**ker with the Hat,” you might recall when Rock’s character told another you make all your friends from when you’re about five until college. That’s it. I agree. However, I have made some very important friends. They are right up there.

I took a few rides to my section of the camp; parts have been shuttered since 1988. Other sections a decade plus later. As we drove in, tears fell out of my eyes. When we traveled along the trails and saw where many buildings stood, all but one have been knocked down. All you are pieces of wood and cement foundations.

My site was the one closed in ’88. It used to have a dining hall, office, old school latrine, and many leantos (sleeping quarters). We had a terrarium. As a staff member, I helped build it many times. We had a giant treehouse.

Below our hill was a no longer functional dining hall, ball field, shower house, and usable dining hall. We had our own shower. We even had hot water. I say this because my first 2.5 summers or so we didn’t. You took ice-cold showers. Or walked to the shower house for hot water. I froze.