Check-in day, as I've said, and we had a contingent of alumni visitors. Lee Griffin joined us and was very helpful--donning a staff shirt and escorting new campers and parents to their cabins up in the hills. Thanks, Lee. At lunch, Lee stood around with his former campers, now staffers themselves. That's Lee on the left (no staff shirt yet at this point).Brian Butler, James Raffo and Shawn Schaefer came too - spent the weekend here and then provided a hilarious trio of help along the trail to lost parents. Noah Ferris arrived for two weeks in Outpost, along with his parents John Ferris and Jan Gikner Ferris. At one point we got a radio call from the Ad Office telling us that a "gentleman" was there hoping to show us some memorabilia from 35 years ago. Allye Glicker and I promptly went down there, only to find Glenn Kreismer, who began as a camper in 1968 and kept coming through 1975, his CIT year. He had with him a carved stick, signed by staff and campers back then (I recognized most of the names)--he and others whittled such sticks under the guidance of Mark Showers, who became something of an expert in this art. Glenn also had with him an "Order of the Oar" paddle that he somehow persuaded his counselors to give him. It too is signed by many FV stars from the 70s. Chris Mills, Reed Auerbach, Mark Kramer, Ladd Connell, Doug Terrell, Pat McShane (VC Lenape), Mark Wazniak, Pete Dobbs (taught many of us how to flyfish), Jim Ewen ("your friend always"), Mark Staimer, Stu Sherman, David Householder, the late Mark Selig, D. Halbe Brown, Jon Mittelman, Russ Oeschle, Barry Dunkin, Pat Ricciardi, Mike Rubin, George Zimmerman, Bob Grant, Carl Hess, David D'Oyen, Jim Weigley, Peter Tilles, Bassem Al-Hibri, Norm Gurfinkel ("mini-bike '73"), Rick Hicks ("basketball, that's all"), John Mumford, Tim Stickel, and some guy named "Al Filreis."
Glenn donated to us both the paddle and the whittled stick, as well as some certificates (rifle range, archery range, Olympic awards) and a beautiful old blue jacket on which is sewn all of his patches. His "W1" dates back to '68. In the early 70s we switched to the not-so-nice blue-and-yellow "FV" patches, only to drop the patches altogether for many years until a few summer ago when the "W" and "H" patches (modeled on the old W's) were brought back. This jacket will be auctioned off to the highest FV alumni bidder during the upcoming Labor Day weekend reunion. Proceeds from the auction will go toward our camperships program ("Project 332"). We spent a few minutes with Glenn in the office and he remembered some details from his FV years, including his mastery of the unicycle.
Sandy Shapiro Bohn read this blog entry and wrote: "I was reading the Alumni Blog and I still have the carving Mark Showers made me and I also "had" an oar/paddle. I painted mine in arts and crafts they probably gave us the old ones. Not sure what my parents did with mine when they moved, though!"
It seemed time to gather together photos and recordings. I'd always hesitated because I didn't want to imply that my own take was definitive. The blog--the medium of the blog--seems the right combination of diary-like subjectivity (blog readers simply know this is the blogger talking) and a communal forum for various perspectives and multiple stories.
Castle depicted in old postcard
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When I die let my ashes flow down Biscuit River, let 'em roll on in water the color of sky. I'll be halfway to heaven at a New Wawayanda, saying "Wawayanda spirit it never did die."
is a place where good things happen when people pay attention to each other. There’s endless beauty here - the high meadows, blankets of evergreens, and pristine brook trails – and you can meet nature in all its forms. But more than that, it’s a place where our ties to friends and family are strengthened. When a community of people came to the Catskills to build Frost Valley, they had in mind a place where you can sit next to someone you think you know, and then really get to know them. It also happens to be where the everyday light and shadow is enough to inspire artists; where American fly-fishing was born; and where today, a quarter million acres of green forests still remain “forever wild.” At Frost Valley, where we are does have an effect on how we treat each other. Here, a family can relearn what “family style” means as they share a meal together. The rose-gray river stones in the hearths and chimneys around camp reflect the colors of nearby Biscuit Creek and pull you into the surroundings. If you need more reasons why it’s so special here, we encourage you to explore citizen science activities during every season. But you don’t have to, because you might have more fun just learning silly camp songs. And by the end of your stay, when you your family and newly found friends are composting like pros together, everyone becomes richer, including next year’s butterfly garden.
after lunch, inevitably Dave King
...and if I could transport myself
not just back to this place, but to a certain moment in my personal history here, it would perhaps be:
end of lunch on any July day in 1968, and Dave King (our camp director) walks to the center of the dining hall, without microphone, and without introduction of any kind begins to lead one of the 25 or so camp songs we sang in those days. He is the maestro, waving one arm to the rhythm we are to follow and with the other arm, at turns, directing us to sing quietly or loudly or pointing toward some one camper who isn't singing or (rarely) is talking. And it's "Young Folks Old Folks" or "Zum Gali Gali" or "Deep and Wide" and I look down to the end of the table at my counselor and he's singing too, no hesitation, not too old for this, totally entranced and I myself turn my gaze back toward Dave....
Okay, I ache for that. Not being young again, not quite. More like being momentarily again part of such harmony.
"The blog is awesome - I just went back through the whole thing again. I'll say this without shame - I ache for Frost Valley. I spend a lot of time and cerebral metabolism trying to devise a way I can get back up there for a session...."
waterfront 1961
looking in the direction of Wildcat Mtn. and the boathouse (which is off to the left)
definition of "Village Chief"
Village Chief\vil aj cheef\ n: An overworked, underpaid, camp official expected to be everything to everyone, including, but not limited to, Counselor, Mediator, Motivator, Programmer, Administrator, Police Officer, Caretaker, and Supervisor, all while maintaining good working relationships with parents, campers, counselors and support staff, and without whom any summer camp would struggle to function adequately.
Wawayanda flag raising
July 2006
Dot Conklin
is an original Catskills denizen. She has family scattered all across the region, she knows all the old stories about one-room schoolhouses, what this Claryville house was used for in the old days, and so on. Dot was the first recipient of a recent annual staff award, and when she received this honor everyone stood and applauded, tears in their eyes. Finally a chance to recognize a true community elder - hard working, honest, a kind & beautiful soul. [LINK]