memorial service for Marie Hess

I just now returned from the beautiful memorial service for Marie Hess. Here are some photos of photos on display at the service - including early photos of Carl and Marie together than I had not seen. In the final photo you see most of the Frost Valley people who were able to come to the service, although not, alas, including John Giannotti and Keara Giannotti who had to leave just before we snapped this group shot. That's of course Bonnie Hess Hirschmann between Frank Rutan and Jenny Brown Bickart.

the White Rat truck on luggage day

It's the last day of the session sometime in the early 1970s. Time for the CITs and others to put the luggage on the "White Rat." This was a 1951 Chevy truck that was the mainstay luggage and all-camp-program vehicle for many, many years. Eventually it was supplemented by a nice big blue stake truck, and other late model vehicles. But the White Rat was the one. It's shock absorbers (such as they were) created a hilarious (and perhaps dangerous) bounce up the rocky hills going up to the cabins. It's wooden stakes would literally fly up into the air and fall to the ground on some of these trips up.

Pam McPhee (Pam Kerr) wins award

Pam McPhee at the University of New Hampshire has won an award. We knew her as Pam Kerr, long-time FV'er and member of a significant FV family. Brother Doug, who has been mentioned in this blog several times, also came of age at Frost Valley--and for a time lived (with Leslie Black and their son Jake Kerr) in the valley as a full-time maintenance department staff. Pam doubtless learned a great deal about outdoor education--"experiential education" as it is called in her field--from her FV years and we're thrilled that she is being acknowledged.

Mark Gottdenker writes: "She was my advisor briefly while I attended UNH. Our shared Frost Valley connection was always a great source of pride. She is a great example of someone taking many of the honorable traits we preach and work to instill in youth at camp and putting them into practice everyday in the world."

mowing the Castle Hill

Doug Kerr, now of Lewis, NY, was a camper in '68 and '69, then CIT, LIT, Counselor and then joined the maintenance staff. Eventually he worked year-round on the maintenance staff. Doug writes: "Did you know I had the record time for mowing the Castle Hill with a hand mower solo? Carl [Hess] trained us well!"

In those days the Castle Hill was mown by hand. I suppose that's because tractor mowers in those days were not built flexibly enough to handle riding sideways at such a steep angle. For whatever reason it was done by hand - tiring, hard work, and terrible on the ankles! Andy Kremer, I recall, wore spikes (like soccer shoes, or baseball cletes) when mowing it, to keep himself from falling over and tumbling down the hill.
Doug is our source for the spectacular photograph below. Top row, left to right: Bill Van Zandt, Carl Hess, Morris Slater, John Kremer, Norm Gurfinkel; bottom row, left to right: Mike Schiffer, Dave McBride, Andrew Schiffer, Doug Kerr.


John Kremer writes: "This would have been my first summer on the Maintenance staff - Norm and I lived in one of the dorm rooms in Hayden - I think the younger Schiffer is actually John, who would have been my age. Andrew is the youngest and he did not join the staff until years later when Chuck had the crew."

Chuck White

I bear the sad news of the death, this afternoon at 12:30 PM, of Charles J. ("Chuck") White.

Chuck and his wife Joy and 4 children arrived at the end of the summer of 1973 and were full-time resident staff members from then until 1991, when they retired and moved to Florida. Chuck built Margetts Lodge, renovated the "girls" dining hall (now Geyer) after the 1/1/83 fire, and then--his major project--oversaw the design and construction of the new dining hall, the second Thomas Lodge. He also built several of the first cabin-lodges. He worked very closely with Halbe Brown in what was then called the "development" (meaning construction as distinct from maintenance) department. He was tough as nails and a genius at fixing things. He is remembered by many as the guy who was fiddling with a running tractor diesel engine with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was our sheriff, and caught many poachers. He was an environmentalist at heart, and almost singlehandedly converted us from snowmobiling to cross-country skiiing in 1974-75. He loved to flyfish the Neversink and take his "grandson" (Leslie Black's son Jake) fishing at sundown in Lake Cole. He and Joy lived in the gray house (now called "the group home") and it was an open house--anyone could come, and sit in front of the fire, and stay the night if necessary. Chuck loved eggs and bacon for breakfast on the one day each month when he wouldn't be at work at 6 am. At one time or another, he fixed or overhauled or towed the broken-down cars of most members of the staff. He was the guy who invented the "modern" key system (B, BCB, GM, etc.) and was the same guy who stared at you with a blank expression when you came to him to say you'd lost yours. (I lost a GM once, in 1984. He reminded me of this when I saw him last spring.)

Chuck built the extension of Smith Lodge - the back room that became our dialysis center - and finished it not many days before the start of the summer of 1975, when our dialysis program began. When photos of Eva Gottscho and Halbe Brown and Ira Greifer were snapped at the dedication of that facility, Chuck was not in the picture. He was busy getting greasy while making the generator work so that the dialysis machines would not be interrupted by an oncoming storm.

Chuck White was crucial to the development of Frost Valley in the 70s and 80s.

He loved Frost Valley - honored the work we do - and, although a rare visitor in recent years ("You can't go back home again," he said), he talked about Frost Valley all the time. All the time.

When he retired the pond near the Neversink, across the road from the new Hunter Road homes, was named for him: Chuck White Pond. Fish there sometime, and think of Chuck.

- - -

remembrances

Stuart Kaufer: "In the early hours of this news here is what I have to say. My best memories of Chuck were that he was always magically there. If he saw thunder clouds he would just appear at the dialysis center to be sure the generator turned itself on. It was old and diesel and he lost blood fixing the damn thing with his lit cigarette. When the State inspectors came and said we need to treat the h20 he had a whole system rigged up in minutes leaving the h2o company in the dust. He was easily frustrated by bullshit and tolerated none of it. I was always impressed that he never lost patience w me and my crazy questions about electricity etc., topics I remain ignorant of to this day; knowing full well that I put at least a couple of those wrinkles on his well worn face. Rest in peace and wherever you are headed I hope there are cigarettes and generators."

John Giannotti: "First there was his voice. I answered the phone one night in late 1972 and this stranger was on the other end, speaking to me in a silky voice sounding as though it was dripping from the spout of a Sugar Maple. The voice identified itself as Chuck White, a salesman who was working with a group of neighbors to design and build a playground for their local elementary school in Willingboro, New Jersey, one town over from where I lived with my family in Mount Holly. Chuck wanted to know if I was the John Giannotti he had just read about in a newspaper story based on playgrounds I was designing in Atlantic City and Camden. When I answered yes, he invited me to a meeting with his neighbors and family to discuss plans for their project. I'll never forget the meeting. There were kids running every which way, with all of their high-spirited parents sitting in the Living Room excitedly discussing what they could build and how quickly they could build it. The most spirited of all was Chuck's wife, Joy, a woman who immediately impressed me as a person with a huge heart and pure spirit. My lifelong friendship with both Chuck and Joy began right there in that room, INSTANTLY. Sure, I helped them with the playground, but it became apparent to me on the very first day that Chuck knew more about building and engineering than ever I could possibly know. Our families started hanging out together and one early spring morning we all hopped into Chuck's favorite vehicle, an old school bus that he had painstakingly converted into a camper -- of sorts. Joy called it "that big s.o.b. in the driveway". Well, on that spring morning we headed out to the lonely Pinelands of southerm New Jersey. Chuck drove that old s.o.b. over highways, then onto single lane asphalt roads, then dirt roads, and finally onto sand and pine straw. We stopped and had lunch parked next to a remote lake the color of the deep cedar forest. When it was time to return, Chuck tried to start the bus but no fuel was reaching the carburetor. I thought we were stranded and tried to keep the kids in good spirits. But Chuck disappeared into the woods, came back fifteen minutes later with sticks and small rocks, and an old plastic milk jug. Within seconds he was cutting and re-shaping the container, piercing holes into it, and wrapping some old tubing around it. He then placed the contraption on top of the engine, connected the fuel line to the tubes and, using the rocks for support, dumped gasoline that he'd syphoned from the gas tank into the jug, thereby creating, on the spot, a gravity-feed fuel system! As the gas trickled down into the carb, he jumped into the bus, revved her up, and moments later we were back on the road. Several weeks later I'd heard from Halbe that Frost Valley was looking to add to its maintenance and building staff and I said, "Halbe, let me tell you about Chuck White". I will miss him terribly. He and Joy made you feel so important. They made you feel like it was THEIR honor and pleasure to have you in their home. What a legacy they left."

Jody Davies Ketcham: "I am so sorry to hear the news of Chuck's death. He's been on my mind recently. I'm learning to fly fish and he was the best fisherman I've ever known so I had planned on calling him. About 15 years ago when he was at our home in Kinnelon, he tied a fly from natural materials he found around the pond and threw it out on a line. You can guess the rest. Such precious memories I have of the man..."

Mike Marder: "Chuck certainly epitomized the independent Frost Valley thinker and was the rare person who was a master at many skills. My sincerest condolences to his family."

Dave King: "Shirl and I are absolutely stunned by Chuck's death. I firmly believe that he was truly the RIGHT PERSON for FV at the RIGHT TIME! He was a living example of the total being vastly greater than the sum of the parts!"

Rich & Phyllis Kaskel: "What a caring, a dedicated human being Chuck was, and as such, he and Joy were intimately committed to the mission of Frost Valley. I can remember many occasions where Chuck saved the day in terms of our dialysis unit, and yet never expected any recognition for his efforts. He had a profound influence on many of us during our first experience at Frost Valley and he and Joy will remain in our hearts and minds always."

Michele Palamidy: "I was a young and idealistic dialysis nurse when I met Joy and Chuck. Chuck to me was the strong silent type. I was a little intimidated by his quiet assuredness. Underneath it all was pure gold. Part of my job after becoming the Head Nurse in 1978 was to set the unit up. As I was going through supplies with one of the medical directors, she noticed we had an extra conductivity meter. I said great, up here it is good to have a back up. She said no, we'll send it back. Needless to say the day came when we needed it! We were getting ready to start up for the day, but had no way to test the conductivity of our dialysis solution. So, we called Chuck. He came into the unit just as I was giving someone hell on the phone over having sent the back up meter back. Chuck came with some kind of gadget and started talking in milimoles and other strange sounding words. He saved the day for that day and we were able to get the back up meter. He told me later he loved the way I gave it to the doctors about the whole situation! He got such a kick out of it, and we had such a laugh! He remained my hero and friend forever after that. He was smart, witty and amazing. I am so sad that he has left us."

Robin Helfand: "Chuck was such an 'institution'. I think he was one of the first people I met at FV in the 70's when Dawn, Russ and I first came to camp as campers....I remember him in the "garage" where FV (briefly) had ...was it "motor bikes"-- or some kind of scooters as an activity -- the area later became part of composting/recycling shed -- then , I think, maintenance."

Eric Blum: 'Chuck White was so many things to so many people, and while reading the various thoughts about Chuck I couldn't help but remember my introduction to him. In 1986, during staff training my first summer at Frost Valley, on tuesday as we were finnishing up lunch Terry Muray came to the front of the "Old Girls Dining Hall" and said that we were going to have the "Camp Security Talk", which was going to be given by Chuck White. Chuck appeared at the front of the dinning hall in his traditional blue jeans and button down shirt, with a pack of Carlitons in his front pocket, and he began to speak. Everyone in the room immediately quit what ever they were doing and turned to face Chuck. For the next 5 or so minutes he went over the various issues of camp security-mentionig that he was a Reserve Deputy Sheriff of Ulster County, after that first few minutes Chuck turned his talk to "Camp Keys"-for the next several minutes he went over the importance of key security and that people who were given keys were responibile for them and that if they lost them they would be charged a fee for not only the key but also the cost of re-keying the entire camp. He then described the key system "A, B, C" and the various combinations of each. In those few short minutes Chuck not only conveyed the importance of the key, he also managed to scare each one us who was new to the Valley, however the veteran staff knew the real story. After his talk, Chuck then cerimonously distributed to the VC's thier "BCB" keys on "P-cord" with a double overhand knot. I remember having 2 thoughts 1) this is really cool and I can't wait until I get a chance to get a key from Chuck and 2) this seems to alot to do about nothing. In 1989 my first full summer as a VC, at lunch on tuesday during staff training Peter Swain came to the front of the dinnig hall to announce that Chuck White will be giving us the "Camp Security Talk". The words were the same from the 3 other "key" talks I had sat through in my prevous summers, the new staff still sat there looking scared , while the veteran staff knew the real story. Then it was time for the distribution of the VC keys-I went up and Chuck handed me my BCB key on a p-cord lanyard with a double overhand knot, I signed for it, and proudly put it around my neck While the "Mystique of the Key" has lessened since Chuck left the Valley, I am happy to say that I still have the original "P-cord" lanyard that he gave me in 1989 and each summer when I return to volunteer I take the key that I am given, place it on that lanyard and tie a double overhand knot, this summer will be no different, it will just have a little more meaning to me, because I know the real story about Chuck.'

Lewis Reisman: "During the years that I worked as dialysis and camp doctor, my wife, Dalia and I became close friends with Joy and Chuck White. They were a wonderful couple, great people, and central to the running of the camp: Joy, as the head nurse, and Chuck, as the general handyman and the person to turn to in any technical emergency. We spent many of our evenings at their home. It was always noticeable that Joy did all the talking for the couple and that Chuck rarely spoke, and then only in single words and short phrases. One evening I found Chuck fly fishing in Biscuit Creek and asked him what he was doing. He responded with a lengthy and enthusiastic lecture about fly fishing, the most that I ever heard him say in all the time that I knew him."

Morris Schoeneman: "Sandy and I have missed Chuck (and Joy too) greatly ever since she left us and he left Frost Valley. I have one memory of Chuck which I use as a teaching tool when I'm making rounds with pediatric trainees. I was the dialysis doc and acting as camp doctor one summer in the late "70s or early '80s when Joy White called me into the Health Center to help her evaluate a young man who had gotten his scrotal skin caught in the zipper of his pants while finishing up in the bathroom. He wasn't wearing underpants that day and was really upset and in pain, having tried unsuccessfully to unzip himself before coming to the Health Center. Joy and I tried to get the zipper unfastened from his private parts, but just caused him more pain and fear. As a last resort, Joy called Chuck for help, and he arrived wielding a very large pair of pliers. Now the young man was really scared, imagining the worst, but Chuck calmly pried open the zipper and freed the captive. The camper left the Health Center greatly relieved, and I'm sure he wore underpants thereafter. Chuck was the kind of man who seemed to be able to handle anything that came his way. Sandy and I will always remember him."

- - - -

And here is an obituary written by Chuck's daughter Elizabeth:

Anna Maria Island resident Chuck White succumbed to complications from recent surgery on 15 April. Family and friends recall Chuck as a kind and generous person whose encyclopedic knowledge and practical common sense could solve any problem, fix anything and never fail to “design a better mousetrap”. Born in Brownsville, Texas he held various jobs over the years; tugboat mate, served as an Air Force radio instructor, and Bell and Howell electronics salesman, before moving with his wife Joy, and his children, Elizabeth, Rebecca, David and Sylvia, to Frost Valley YMCA in the Catskill Mountains of New York where he became resident staff in the early 1970’s. It was here that he also met the rest of his “family” Leslie Black and her son, West Point graduate 2Lt Jake Kerr, who Chuck considered as his Grandson. Chuck’s other Grandsons, Bryce Warren and John Petrutiu, spent time with him at Frost Valley and in Florida – they will always cherish the warm support and love Chuck gave them. Frost Valley, the largest “Y” camp in the country, saw significant and lasting development due to Chuck’s hard work and creative vision over 20 years. Chuck loved to fly-fish; if you are ever in the Catskills, stop by the pond at Frost Valley that Chuck built, it’s named after him. Service above self was how Chuck lived his life. His good humor, steady approach to all types of situations, and genuine care for and about people live on through those he mentored and befriended. He lived his principles, volunteering for numerous community works regarding children and civil rights in the various places he lived, to include foster parenting numerous children, Boy Scout leader, helping to build “Resurrection City” on the Mall in Washington D.C. during Dr. Martin Luther King’s Poor People’s Campaign, acid rain/water monitor for state of NY, volunteer fireman and arson investigator, Constable for the town of Denning, New York and more recently City of Anna Maria code enforcement officer. In Anna Maria, Chuck lived with SueLynn after the death of Joy from cancer; he loved and was extremely grateful to both women. He enjoyed being a Florida Master Gardener; he had so many “hours served” plates attached to his name badge that it became quite thick! If you had a soil sample done by the County Extension office, Chuck was probably the person who saw to it. It’s hard to pay tribute to a person like Chuck in a few words- just know that he was one heck of a good man and life-long learner whose word was his bond; you truly missed out if you didn’t get a chance to know him. Chuck’s family is grateful for the assistance these last few months of his neighbors, Heimo, Suse, Ernie and especially his dear friend Charlie Daniel. In his memory please be helpful to your neighbor, polite to a stranger, give to a charity, plant something beautiful and release your fish.

it's a boy!

The other day I reported on Stu Alexander's and others' efforts at stewardship of Frost Valley's butterflies. Well there's more butterfly news this morning.

Stu writes: "This photo is or our first born in the terrarium this year. It's a Boy! Good luck to Monarch # JBH 282 in safely reaching Mexico."

I asked Stu if we can find a better name for the little guy than "JBH 282" and I suppose he'll get back to me with that. Perhaps he'll be named Jose (for Reyes) or Carlos (for Beltran or Delgado) or even Gil (for Hodges).**

** Stu is a longtime Mets fan (taking crap from his Phillies-fan family), enjoying himself (as I am) at the moment. One Labor Day weekend years ago my kids and I were wandering the aisles of Veterans' Stadium during another awful late-season Mets-Phils game, looking for a decent hot dog, when I hear, "Al! Al! Frost Valley!" shouted from a few rows up. And there was Stu with his family, making the annual pilgrimmage back to Philly for some big-league baseball. How "big-league" it was is debatable. (Leave it to me. I just had to get baseball--humanity's most artificial activity of all--into this otherwise lyric entry on a baby butterfly...)

someone loves us all

A soaking wet winter rain...the worst weather at Frost Valley. When you're on the staff, you're outside a lot, inevitably, and you get chilled to the bone. No sitting around the fire in the dining hall for you.

And on such Friday or Saturday nights we felt compelled to deliver firewood to all the lodges. On a night like this folks should at least be able to warm themselves in their own places. A little camp in spite of the weather...or in fact because of it.

And someone has to bring the wood. Someone has to get utterly soaked bringing it. Someone--it's Carl Hess, of course, standing in the second-floor foyer of the Castle--someone brings the kindling and some newspaper too. Someone flashes a broad smile despite the discomfort.

Someone loves us all.

Stu Alexander loves Monarchs

Our beloved long-time maintenance guy - his favorite fix is roofs (not!) and cabin plumbing (double not!) - Stu Alexander has lived with his family in what we used to call "Old John's" house for many years - since, I believe, maybe around '84 or '85. Many reading this will know Stu. What you might not know is that Stu has gone ga-ga about butterflies. He is a huge promoter of Frost Valley's Monarchs and as you see below, in today's update sent to the FV staff, there are some sophisticated projects being set up to support our butterflies. Have a read and contact Stu at camp if you want to help in some way - or if you just want to come up and talk with him about it. I know from first-hand experience that he will be happy to tell you lots about these frail little beauties. Here's Stu:

For the Butterflies, Moths, & the Monarch Migration program on 8/28 there was much cooperation by the Family Campers, staff, & Monarch butterflies. Many thanks to the Houskeepers and Program staff who stopped by to help tag. Volunteers, Wayne & Liz, were terrific helping kids catch Monarchs to tag while I explained the life cycle and what we were trying to do. We had many comments commending FV for preserving meadows and allowing wildlife habitat to return to some previously mowed areas.

As of 8/29 we have tagged 54 Monarchs at FV. I have many caterpillars and chrysalis to hatch and tag in then next few weeks.

Each tag has an identifying number, phone number, and website to report recovered Monarchs. In the 18 years of the Monarchwatch.org program over 12,000 tagged Monarchs have been recovered. All data is available at Monarchwatch.org. about when, where, and how far each recovered Monarch had flown.

The last brood of Monarchs, rather than reproduce, puts all it's energy into flying over 3000 miles to a tiny area in the mountains west of Mexico City. Normally Monarchs only live a few weeks but migrating Monarchs, that make it to wintering sites, will live until mating next spring and start the return North of their offspring. Some of them, after several generations, may reach the Arctic Circle. All tagged Monarchs that are recovered contribute to the database on monarchwatch.org.

The hatch of Monarchs 8/28 - 8/29 was prodigious. The evening of 8/28 Wayne & Liz observed Monarchs roosting in the trees above Lakeview. Several hundred Monarchs flew in one at a time to land and hang side by side for the night. In Mexico, those who make it, will join tens of millions where they will stay until March to start the return trip.



(See a later follow-up to this story.)

pull a spoke shave, learn a work ethic

It's Labor Day today and I woke up wondering whether what the day symbolizes has anything to say particularly to us. But of course it does. We all worked hard at the valley--very hard indeed (think about how much time off per day we got--very little)--but I'm thinking about "labor" in the traditional sense: physical supportive work that makes things function well, the infrastructure labor of the sort that mostly we take for granted. Were leaders, citizens, good family people being made of this kind of work just as they were in the counseling and helping-kids roles we normally associated with camp? You bet, and so for Labor Day '07 here's a story about the work ethic.

When John Kremer read the entry called "They Made Things Work", a flood of memories and emotional debts overwhelmed him. Here's what he wrote:

I just wanted to thank you for the effort, and memories of your blog. The photos and the musings sure bring back the memories. I especially like the recently posted photo of Carl and Marie Hess, Bill Van Zandt, Chuck and Ron, and Lou. This one pictured managed to capture some of the most influential people in my life.

I vividly remember as a teenager (14 or so, which would make it about 1975) getting up the courage to ask Carl for a position on the summer maintenance staff. It was in the FV office, and after some pointed questions to make sure I was serious, and worthy, he said yes. I was thrilled. That summer I became Bill Van Zandt's "helper". Ron was on the staff, as was Chuck, so it must of be about the time this picture was taken. I worked will Bill rebuilding many of the porches in the upper girls camp cabins, some of which are still in use. I spent long hours cursing camp in the yellow truck with Bill. He was a quite a character, as I'm sure you know. I'd known him for years, as my Mother [Marie Kremer] and Sisters worked with him when he was camp cook, but despite the familiarity, he still scared the hell out of me! Rough, grump and hard on the outside; with a heart as big as the Catskills. I learned much from him, not the least of which is a work ethic that still drives me today. I learned to use a power saw, swing a hammer and, pull a spoke shave. I came home with all my fingers, so the lessons took! I learned the importance of loving what you do, as he spent 20+ years as an administrator in the NJ Prison system, in a job he hated. I learned the horrors of war, as he often recounted his time in the Pacific during WW II. He, Carl, and later Chuck White, entered my life during those impressionable teenage years when my parents know nothing and as looked for guidance as I struggled with the transition from boy to man. They were all there, mentoring, supporting, and accepting me. I owe so much to them and by association to Frost Valley. The life lessons taught to me by that place and the people I encountered there will be with me forever. For that I am truly blessed.

John met Jacqueline Dundorf at camp (we called her "Jackie Sacky") and later they married. The photo above shows them, with their son, on the last day of session 4 this summer, coming to pick up their daughter after her own camp experience. I'm sure at some point John will tell them about the guy who made daddy so straightforward and disciplined--the late, great & sorely missed Bill Van Zandt.

they made things work

They were probably already laughing over Carl Hess' rare display of his pale legs (he rarely wore shorts on camp property) when I took this shot. Carl said something satirical about me, and brushed his brush-cut back with one hand (then that little rub of the short hairs down toward the neck) while lifting his cap with the other.

Carl's audience that late-summer late afternoon in the mid-70s ('74 or '75) was, from left to right sitting on the Olympic Circle: Carl's beloved, dependable, can-do wife and life/work-partner Marie Hess, the pseudo-grumpy and hilariously ascerbic long-time summer maintenance guy Carl Van Zandt, Ron House, walrus-mustached Lou Senor, and the immortally ingenious Chuck White.

All four of the men sitting worked for Carl in the maintenance department (although Ron House was a summer-only helper that year; he was a year-round environmental ed coordinator). Shortly after this, Chuck and Carl split the facilities responsibilities into two large parts: Carl leading maintenance and repairs, Chuck leading construction (we called it "development").

Fans of FV's storied vehicular history will recall the olive-green Chevy Suburban van in the background here. This one didn't last long. There was another green Suburban (no "wood" paneling on that one) that was fine for a while but then our camp driver Charlie Speck drove it into an old Forstmann-era concrete wading pool behind Biscuit Lodge. That's a story I'll tell another time, if and when I find a photo of Charlie Speck and/or of that ill-fated van.

We (the young camp staff drivers) were very hard on the vehicles, as Carl never ceased reminding me. Indeed, the wisecrack he'd just made at me when I took this shot might well have been about something I'd done (again) to one of the camp trucks.