Another Frost Valley summer - done. The staff parking lot is nearly empty; the cars are parked next to cabins and lodges, trunks open, duffles being loaded. Other staff are on buses heading to Newark, Montclair, Brooklyn - and the intrepid loyalists (which is most of them) will come
back in vans and cars in time to attend the annual last-night-of-camp banquet. Rain clobbered us on Thursday (thus closing campfires were indoors--but they were good, with fabulous musical goodbyes of various genres), and a hurricane will hit here on Sunday, but today began warm and blue-skied.
By breakfast the tearful joyous goodbyes were well underway. Three of the CIT Coordinators fiercely hugged in a whirling circle for many minutes.
By 9:30 a flotilla of same-colored buses were already parked in front of Margetts Lodge and the pavilion, being loaded by tired and emotionally drained but nonetheless dutiful CITs and program staff.
By 10 AM somehow already the program directors were nearly done emptying out the program office of its myriad dodge balls, hoola hoops, megaphones, Hirdstock hippie paraphrenalia, clipboards, radio recharging units, laptops, village schedules, pencils and rolls of duct tape. It didn't look very pretty but it was nearly ready for the next phase (Family Camp).
At the dining hall, by 10:30, parents began to arrive and the familial reunions began. These are wonderful to see. There's nothing quite like the emotion of parents seeing their child for the first time in two or even four weeks. This gets me every time. Then in walks Peter Boyd and daughter Elizabeth. Peter was an LIT with me in '72 and a few more summers after that, and his brother David was on the staff here too. As I've mentioned, daughters Elizabeth and Sarah came as young girls and later joined the staff. Elizabeth was visiting (having been away this summer for the first time) and they were here to get Sarah, a 2011 Susky counselor.
Sarah might have been ready to go. But a Lakota girl, Emily, was not. She'd been crying at the thought of leaving her friends since during the closing campfire the night before, and she was still a happy mess. She told her mom she'll be coming here every summer forever. Her counselors joined the circle and Emily was able to say a final goodbye. See ya next summer. I'll be back, will you be back? Yes, I'll be back. Okay, see you then. Remember how good it was for us. Don't worry. I'll remember. And off she went, holding mom's hand and sure to hold on tight during the slow drive along the Neversink River, winding, winding, eight nostalgic miles to Claryville. We've been down this road before. Oh yes we have.
By breakfast the tearful joyous goodbyes were well underway. Three of the CIT Coordinators fiercely hugged in a whirling circle for many minutes.
By 9:30 a flotilla of same-colored buses were already parked in front of Margetts Lodge and the pavilion, being loaded by tired and emotionally drained but nonetheless dutiful CITs and program staff.
By 10 AM somehow already the program directors were nearly done emptying out the program office of its myriad dodge balls, hoola hoops, megaphones, Hirdstock hippie paraphrenalia, clipboards, radio recharging units, laptops, village schedules, pencils and rolls of duct tape. It didn't look very pretty but it was nearly ready for the next phase (Family Camp).
At the dining hall, by 10:30, parents began to arrive and the familial reunions began. These are wonderful to see. There's nothing quite like the emotion of parents seeing their child for the first time in two or even four weeks. This gets me every time. Then in walks Peter Boyd and daughter Elizabeth. Peter was an LIT with me in '72 and a few more summers after that, and his brother David was on the staff here too. As I've mentioned, daughters Elizabeth and Sarah came as young girls and later joined the staff. Elizabeth was visiting (having been away this summer for the first time) and they were here to get Sarah, a 2011 Susky counselor.
Sarah might have been ready to go. But a Lakota girl, Emily, was not. She'd been crying at the thought of leaving her friends since during the closing campfire the night before, and she was still a happy mess. She told her mom she'll be coming here every summer forever. Her counselors joined the circle and Emily was able to say a final goodbye. See ya next summer. I'll be back, will you be back? Yes, I'll be back. Okay, see you then. Remember how good it was for us. Don't worry. I'll remember. And off she went, holding mom's hand and sure to hold on tight during the slow drive along the Neversink River, winding, winding, eight nostalgic miles to Claryville. We've been down this road before. Oh yes we have.
