in Russia, we drink much milk

For years we did a skit called "the Russian Midget." It's a probably standard skit-like trick performed at many camps: you build a simple screen (usually a sewn sheet) into which is inserted a specially cut-up sweatshirt. Someone's hands and head go into the sweatshirt (the feet go into some old shoes and thus become the feet) and the rest of his or her body is obscured by the sheet and a table. Someone else's arms go through the sweatshirt sleeves. Now you have two people configured to seem like one little person.

Once the skit starts, the object is to feature the funny legs-arms combination. The audience knows that the guy with the face is also the guy with the feet - and thus can't control his own arms. The guy controlling the arms is out to make the arms and hands work just well enough to keep a bit of the illusion that this is one person, and just clumsily enough so that funny things happen, such as: The Russian Midget, during his typical day at camp, eats a big bowl of cereal. "In Russia we really love breakfast. We eat lots of cereal." (Now the arms are pouring some cereal into a large bowl and a little bit of milk.) "We eat LOTS of cereal." (As if that's a cue to the arms to pour more. Whereupon arms pour SO MUCH more that it overflows the bowl; camper audience laughs.) "And we love to drink LOTS of milk." (Now a small pint carton of milk is replaced by a gallon of milk and it is poured in the bowl and all over the midget's face, after which he tries to wipe his face with his feet!) And so on....

I'm sure there's some kind of Cold War-related origin of the title we gave this skit (and its little guy): "The Russian Midget." Almost surely it came from Camp Fitch in the mid-60s along with lots else. (That's where Halbe Brown came from, and he brought with him skits like this along with a bunch of staff, such as the Hettlers.) I believe the first Russian Midget I saw was done by Halbe Brown himself along with Bobby Hettler. Later Halbe and Tom Holland, and also Bob and Bill Hettler (the brothers, one the Boys' Camp Director and other the camp doctor [and Father of Wellness]).

By the mid-70s, I had learned to do it - and remember one especially good performance Rick Cobb and I did at the July 4th stage show down at the beach (while everyone waited impatiently for it to get dark enough to shoot off the fireworks from the other side of the lake).

By the mid-80s, which this photo was snapped by a camper sitting at the nearest dining hall table one day after lunch, the Russian Midget had been passed on...to the likes of Ken and Bill Abbott. (What is this about this skit and brothers? I suppose partly it's about finding a partner who knows your moves instinctively.)

Shown here above, from our left to right: Adam Diamond (camper), Michael Moore (camper), Bill Abbott playing guitar as the midget, the late Dave Nalven, Michael Schneide (camper).

tall grass, really tall grass

Bud Cox, who (as everyone knows) was there 50 years ago, led a rousing version of "Goin' on a Lion Hunt" today during staff training. Click on the image and watch the video.

summer is good

Summer is far and away my favorite season. Not even close. The other day I was walking across a field near the East Branch of the Neversink River. The air was cool and yet the sun was hot (that possible?). The breeze was giving me a slight shiver on my arms but the sun on the back of my neck felt warm and close. The combination was stunning. Perfect weather. Hotcha!

Below: that same perfect sun at 6 PM - leaving in cool shade pre-dinnertime gatherers on the stone deck just outside the Straus House sun porch, while that perfect sun warms the top of the building. And look at that sky!

this isn't a punishment

Our current Camp Director of Wawayanda, Dan Weir (see "Ol' Wawayanda in Good Hands"), appears in a recent issue of the New York Post. The article - "AMPED FOR CAMP" (is that a classic Post headline, or what?) - is about homesickness. Here's Dan in the story:

And while it's hard to ignore a child's pleas, don't rush out to retrieve him, says Frost Valley YMCA's Dan Weir.

"A good parent will say, 'I'll come get you,' and that's a way to be supportive and be there for your child, but that leaves a little bit of a window of self-doubt for the child to wiggle into," the camp director says.

"[But] a great parent will say, 'This isn't a punishment, we really want you to give this a good try. If you don't want to go back next year, you don't have to.' This really sets the child up to succeed, since all the child might need is a few days of getting acclimated."

Way before your child gets on the bus, talk about camp as the vacation it is - one filled with fun and freedom.

Just make sure you don't cry when you say goodbye. If you do tend to get misty, wear sunglasses!

Here's your link to the Post.

hope you had the time of your life

Brendan Heldenfels put together a beautiful 9 1/2-minute video montage, set to stirring music, of photographs across all years. It's been posted to YouTube. Just get your popcorn, dim the lights, find someone to whom you want to tell camp stories, and click on the image above.

You're tuning into an old-style radio, with a dial. Turn the dial a bit and hear a song from the '60s (and now the cabins are new, the docks at the lake seem in the wrong place, a few crewcuts mixed with some fairly hip-looking characters), finger the dial again and it's another time and set of images. Tune time back and forward.

A number of the photographs date back to the Old Wawayanda prior to the move to Frost Valley fifty summers ago. But for the most part the video traces our work and play across the decades, with songs and photos from the 60s, then the 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s. Certain themes merge in and out of the decades: coming & going; the buildings; outdoor education and conferencing; etc.

Some highlights to watch for:

[] Halbe Brown's red plaid pants, circa 1976.

[] wellness-minded girl campers surround chain-smoker Chuck White as they take his blood pressure and listen to his heart.

[] misty sunrise over Lake Cole.

[] Eva Gottscho (co-creator of our dialysis program) with dialysis camper Stevie Bell in her lap.

[] the late John Ketcham blowing on the embers, in Canada, a Trailblazer for all time.

[] Wawayanda camp directors across the decades gather together to lead the noonday grace at a recent reunion.

[] You ain't goin' nowhere.

[] Lenape boys, clad in white Wawayanda tees, head out for an overnight...walking in a perfectly straight line.

[] the old garage before it was Hayden Lodge.

[] the late Oran Giannotti hanging out with good friends.

[] tons of Hirdstock shots.

[] lighting the Olympic torch.

[] everyone wearing really short shorts.

[] Mac guy learns to ride a bike.

I hope you had the time of you life. If so, I'll be joining you in that good company.

thank you, grandma, for sending me to camp

Our old friend Afua Preston (she was a camper in my last years as director) currently works at NYU's School of Continuing and Professional Studies in the Foreign Languages, Translations and Interpreting Program, where she is the Assistant Director for Academic Operations.

Recently Afua and I had a good email exchange, and, after a bit, this wonderful story came out. Here's Afua to tell it:

I wanted to mention that Frost Valley has been on mind over the past month after the death of my Grandmother Dina La Barre in April. She worked at the YMCA in Montclair, NJ and because she worked there, she was able to get a discount for me and my older brother Matthew Starensier to go Frost Valley for over 10 years. During her Memorial through the tears I was able to get out how much her sending me to Frost Valley meant to me. How I was such a NYC girl but for 2 -8 weeks every summer I was in a place of fun, good people and productive physical and mental challenges. It was at Frost Valley that I overcame my fear of heights, learned to ride a horse, learned to swim (well may I add) and lose my fear of unrecognizable noises in the night. FV is also why I have a collection of sounds of rain CDs. I always loved the sound of rain falling on the trees while in my cabin. It was also my Grandmother and her late husband Kenneth La Barre who wrote me the the most wonderful letters keeping my homesickness at bay. I guess I took it for granted because I had no idea that she was the reason why I was able to afford to go to Frost Valley. I didn't know what a privilege it was to go to a sleep away camp until I would talk about my summers to college friends and co workers. I am grateful to her and to Frost Valley. Every now and then here in New York City I'll see someone with Frost Valley T-shirt or Sweatshirt and I swear I want to run over to them and ask "What village were you in?"

The photo atop the entry is of Afua as a Windsong camper in (I think) '84. And here at right is Afua today.

t-shirt interregnum years

I've had the pleasure as your faithful columnist to comment on several ugly FV t-shirts. Indeed one of my favorite entries overall was a discussion of a synthetic mesh staff shirt that would literally melt on you on a hot check-in Sunday.

But now that I ponder the situation I realize that, where camp clothing nostalgia is concerned, ugliness is in the eye of the beholder.

At the most recent big reunion, we held an auction to benefit camperships. A number of folks brought old FV t-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, and other old canteen/store items. These went for remarkably high prices. One old Wawayanda child-size hooded sweatshirt (with the old logo showing two campers paddling a long canoe, presumably across Lake Wawayanda) was sold, I believe to Amy Ketcham, for $250! Another hoodie was bought by Eileen Barnes for something like $400! I paid far less for a weird-looking non-logo staff t-shirt, gray background with black lettering and a hasty pink zigzag across. I can't place the year but I'm making an educated guess: late 80s. Can anyone seeing this write me (afilreis [at] gmail [dot] com) and tell me precisely when? From the mid-80s and earlier (and I'm assuming all the way back), there was simply a staff shirt for the summer, and no other. By now I notice there are various shirts and sweatshirts made, especially for the very end of the summer--and some of these quite informal. Village staffs design an item. VCs of one of the camps get together to do one. So I'm guessing that this speciman is one of the early staff-designed supplemental shirts. Am I right?

At the time of the auction my son wanted it and has worn it several times since. But now he's outgrown it and I'll bring it with me this summer--to give away as a prize to a lucky winner at Challenge Night.

[Ugh, I'm told by several reliable sources that this shirt was indeed the staff shirt that summer. Karin Turer confirms it's '89 or '90. Next we'd like to find out who designed it. Was it you, Peter Swain?]

another Westfield guy

Walking towards us, looking down, is Scott Sanborn of Westfield, NJ. It's Family Camp (late August), 1961 - at the waterfront (obviously). My own sense (just a few years later as a young camper) was of a Westfield corps: the Ketchams, the Barnetts, Scott Sanborn, the Ewens, Jody Davies, later Cindy Titsworth, Peggy Hope, later Martin Kunert (now a film-maker)...the whole gang. Wawayanda was for a time Westfield-dominated, Mississippi State-dominated, Baltimore-dominated and later eastern Ohio-dominated, Woodmere-dominated, and Stevens Point, Wisc.-dominated. (The Westfield-Frost Valley pipeline has slowed somewhat, but there are still Westfielders around, e.g. Annie Gallgian.)

When Halbe Brown and Jane and their kids arrived in '66, they looked for a home to live in from September through May (they didn't live the full year at camp then) and of course they chose to live in....Westfield. Bill MacLeod, a Program Director for several summers in the early 70s, maybe late 60s, was recruited from the ranks of Westfield.... And on it goes.

My hometown of Springfield NJ produced a few notables but we never strung it together the way Westfield did. Mike Marder, Al Inselberg ("Weasel"!), my sister Liane, the Fridkis brothers, Stu Sherman, Cindy Drucker (now Keppler), the two Krop girls, there must have been a few others. And of course Bud Cox, a Westfield guy, taught math for a few years at the middle school in Springfield. He was totally a Westfieldite, but we in Springfield claimed him. I owe Larry Fridkis of Springfield a shout-out: it was Larry who persuaded me to come my first summer and we were in Totem cabin 2 together. Counselor: Tom Fewel...from Mississippi, of course.

FV'er on The Today Show

One of our beloved own, Dawn Helfand Huebner, will be featured on The Today Show on June 18 sometime between the hours of 8 and 9 AM. Tune in!

She'll be on to talk about kids and sleep and her latest book, What to Do When You Dread Your Bed: A Kid’s Guide to Overcoming Problems with Sleep.

This is Dawn's newest book. The series has really caught on. Her next and sixth book in what has turned out to be a series is being called What to Do When Bad Habits Take Hold: A Kid’s Guide to Overcoming Nail Biting and More, and she's already begun research on a seventh book.

You go, Dawn!

Is it fair to say that Dawn began to learn how to understand kids at Frost Valley? I think there's a very good chance she herself would say yes.

mice vs. counselor

Another item from an old Wawayanda Wasp - this one not quite so old. It dates from 1968. It's a little item written by a Forest camper that summer named Peter Wallburg, and here it is in full:

"In Cabin 7, the unsuspecting counselor J.C. Pony came back from a meeting. He walked into his cabin where two mice came up to him and shook hands. They sat down to talk about getting the eight big brats out of their cabin."

I remember J. C. Pony very well, and I wish I knew where he was today. (Anyone know of him?) Last summer I started telling a somewhat scary story that involves Pony and overnights to the Haunted House site. Folks from that era will remember him for leading Forest in the cheer, "Has Forest got the spirit?!" (To which we replied, "Yeah, man!!") He had a way of cupping his hands over his mouth, leaning backwards and sideways at once, and shouting hoarsely in just such a way so that he never lost an ounce of cool. We would have followed him anywhere....

Now back to Peter Wallburg. I was a Lenape camper that summer ('68) and very vaguely remember the name of this kid from Forest. Vaguely. But I'm going to guess that he's the same Peter Wallburg was is the son of the elder Peter Wallburg who founded Peter Wallburg Photography Studio in Summit, NJ.

first staff member to become a doll

The actor Wentworth Miller--born in England, raised in Brooklyn--is known mostly for his role as Michael Scofield on TV's Prison Break. Less well known is that he was a member of Frost Valley's staff, apparently in Totem village, and apparently for a few years up to 1990.

During the first year Prison Break was aired, a female FV alumna--let's call her R.--was hanging out with another alum, K. K. and R. looked through old camp photo albums. R. had had a big crush on Wentworth and took a nice photo of him at a campfire. The two were admiring this photo when K. noticed that the kid in the photo looked very much like Michael Scofield on the show. R. had already become a big fan of the show and (naturally) had a place in her heart for the actor who plays Scofield. Wentworth both times! At least R. is consistent. The two jumped around in excitement and then went back to marveling at how handsome he'd been even then, at camp.

David Lockwood has pointed out that there's now a Wentworth Miller/Michael Scofield doll (see photo at right), thus making Miller the very first Frost Valley staff member to become a doll. (The first that we know of, anyway. If you know of others, please let holler.)

Hmmmm. The Mike Ford doll. The Sue Goldberg doll. The Bud Cox doll. The Rick Wormeli doll. The Peggy Rub doll. The Rick Cobb doll. Or the generic VC doll. Maybe we're on to something. Manufacture these dolls and sell them in the store....

Well, here is a photo of Wentworth during his Frost Valley days:

Rudy, come & gone

Before computers, the making of the cabin lists before each new two-week session was a major project - complex and almost always done late at night when directors should have been out and around checking on things, dealing with last-minute problems, getting some sleep before the big exchange day/holdover weekend.

I can still remember all the all-nighters I pulled doing this. Usually the memory is about the friends who helped me. Read off the names, check the birthdays, make sure campers who requested each other are together, check to be sure we haven't created a cabin full of lifers next to one full of rookies....and what are the possible bad combos of camper-counselor personalities?

Here you see a photo taken of two staff people assembling the cabin lists (either them or the bus lists - the latter just as crucial for different reasons but less complex an activity) in 1962. The two are Bill Starmer and Rudy Gilbert.

Can you tell where they are working? It's inside the Lake House. This is the small house across the camp road from the boathouse and across the county road from where the old horsebarn used to be. Later Everett Lake lived there, and still later Leslie Black and Doug Kerr.

Rudy Gilbert was a counselor. He went on one of the Canadian trips with Jim Wilkes. Rudy was a student of civil engineering from New Orleans, attending Mississippi State College (which was at the time a feeder school to Wawayanda). This was Rudy's one summer at Frost Valley.

Shortly after that summer (1962) Rudy was murdered on the streets of New Orleans. Lots and lots of fine young people have passed through FV in the summers before and since, and probably few of us remember Rudy Gilbert there that one summer. So why not use this 21st-century-fangled mode (this blog) as a means by which to honor such a person, and (because we still do the same things Rudy did then) to remember him even we don't ourselves remember him?

Bill Starmer, upon seeing this picture after all these years, writes: "You have no idea how often I think about Rudy. We became really close in just a short time. Wonderful future ahead of him. So sad his life had to end so suddenly. One of the few people from those days that still floats through my memory."

So here's to Rudy! And here's to such friendships! Cherish them while you have 'em.

quick, get me a snake reference

Karen Rauter and others up at camp have been looking through old issues of the Wawayanda Wasp, which served as an off-season newsletter (for parents, mostly) and, during the summer, the camp newspaper written and edited by campers. (I was myself a "cub reporter" for the Wasp in '67 and '68.)

Here's a letter printed in an issue of the Wasp dated 1964:

Dear Mom and Dad,
Could you please send my by book on snakes; that tells the difference between poisonous and non-poisonous snakes? A snake just bit me and…………
Love, Clem

I'm less worried about the snake bite (no poisonous snakes at Frost Valley!) than I am about the awful use of the semi-colon in the young fellow's letter home. What kind of grammar were they teaching up in the villages that summer?

what we say we will do

Thanks to Bud Cox, who has kept many of the old camp newsletters. Here's an item from the Wawayanda Wasp issue of 1962, a note in anticipation of a great summer for '63:

What we say we will do – we will do, is not just a slogan at Wawayanda. All of us are victims of exaggerated advertising in the purchase of commodities, and kids are more often the most disappointed when something does not live up to what we expected.

Looking forward to going to camp is almost as much fun as being there. In the process of dreaming, great expectations develop. It is the earnest desire of each member of the staff to meet these expectations and to give that boy or girl all he or she hoped for.

With a full camp and a long waiting list, we do not need to “advertise the camp” with exaggerated promotional materials. We want you as parents to find the experience your son or daughter will have, better then you expected. We the staff have a tradition of 63 years of operation to live up to, and indeed each of us intend to make 1963 the best ever.

Tom Two Arrows

Here's a photo of Tom Two Arrows dancing in the dining hall in the early '60s. Tom used to come up to Frost Valley to teach and perform for father-son "Indian Guide" groups who were spending fall and spring weekends at camp. I remember Tom still doing this in the early 1970s - I'm guessing he was still at it in '73, possibly '74. This photo is courtesy of Jim Wilkes who had been searching for it for a long while.

Bill Starmer remembers: "Tom made a leather case for my 12-gauge shotgun, complete with bead work. To this day, the case hangs in the liviing room of my house in Las Vegas. It has actually been displayed in every house I have owned since '69 To heavy for the gun to live in it, so it is now home to a bow made by another Indian friend who lived in Michigan."

fighting homesickness and other tips

I'm the parent of a camper, and so I received a nice email from the directors today, telling me of--among other things--the new summer camp blog. You should have a visit to this new e-offering from FV. The first entry is about "how to fight homesickness," and as you can see the goal of the blog is to give parents and camper tips about preparing for camp.

hall of fame

This year we inaugurated the Frost Valley Hall of Fame. The first three inductees are Woodruff (Woody) English, Halbe Brown and Eva Gottscho. Halbe, Jane and their son Jim were able to attend the recent annual meeting of the Board, as was Eva, now 95 years old. Woody, alas, died years ago, but his daughter Carol English (who herself was a member of the FV staff in the 70s) and several partners from Woody's law firm (McCarter English) were on hand.

Halbe, Carol and Eva each spoke briefly after they were introduced as inductees. Jim Kellogg, who succeeded Woody as Chairman of the FV Board, spoke of Halbe and Woody, and then Jerry Huncosky spoke of Eva.

Listen here to a recording of these introductions and "acceptance" speeches.

If you have thoughts about who should enter the Hall of Fame in May 2009, please let me know.

Above at right: Eva Gottscho. Left here: D. Halbe Brown.

four verbal photographs

At the recent Annual Dinner in Newark, I was honored to give the invocation. In it I created four verbal photographs and asked all those gathered to close their eyes (most really did this) and imagine the pictures I was describing. Click here and listen to the invocation, and see if you can imagine these pictures too. I'll bet they are familiar.

of slabs of butter & lack of plans

Dining hall memories: (back from 1963-67):

"you kill it, you fill it". There was an art to taking almost all of the bug juice (milk, butter, bread) so you didn't have to get more, but good counselors were wise to the ploy and made you get more anyway.

Butter. Cut out of those big chunks of Government butter. one time I had 3 pieces on the plate, 3" long and 1" square. I decided to build them into an arch as I walked back to the table. My counselor was not impressed with my architectural skills. My reward was to eat the three sticks of butter, plain. As I recall, it wasn't too hard.

The cooks were amazing. I don't know if I saw it but I understand they could grab two eggs in each hand and break them into the bowl in one go, 4 eggs at a time. For scrambled eggs or french toast.

It was rumored that the dining hall was built without any plans, that it was a "kit" and it arrived on site with no directions. Someone (who?) figured it all out and built it. Any truth to this rumor?

--Geoff Hazel

old friends gather

Above: Howie Elliot (whom we in the 1960s and early 70s remember as Howie Fischgrund) joined us at the FV Annual Dinner last night at the Newark Club. Here he is with Jane and Halbe Brown. Howie is funny as ever!

Lisa Ernst, Jerry Huncosky, Karen Rauter and others put on a really terrific evening for everyone. Alumni reading this who missed out on last night's event should seriously consider joining us next May for the 2009 annual dinner.

Above: Jim Kellogg, Halbe Brown, Jane Brown, and (standing) Mary Wheeler. Halbe was inducted into the Frost Valley Hall of Fame last night; he and Jane drove down from Vermont with son Jim Brown, who now directs Camp Beckett in western Massachusetts. Jim Kellogg gave the introductions to Halbe before his induction into the new Hall - and to Woody English (deceased). Carol English, Woody's daughter who was on the EE and Adventure staff in the late 70s, was on hand to accept the honor on behalf of her late dad and the family. Mary is a long-standing member of the Trustees, and part of the Tison family who collaborates with us on the Tison Estate at the end of the East Branch Neversink Road.

Above: Fred Wasiak and Bud Cox. Fred was our Conference Director for some years, then went to the Westfield Y, and in recent years has been the CEO of the well-loved South Jersey/Philadelphia-area camp, Ockanickon (and Matollionequay for girls). Bud of course is still at Frost Valley after all these years. He is only current member of the staff to have been there when Wawayanda moved to Frost Valley 50 years ago.

Eva turns 95

Above: Rick Kaskel (right), Eva Gottscho, and me. Eva turns 95 on 6/21/08. If you send me birthday wishes to afilreis [at] writing [dot] upenn [dot] edu, I'll pass them along to her. She'll be delighted to hear from you if you've had anything to do with the dialysis program since 1975. Since the founding of the project that summer, Eva has found a way to pay for every one of the on-average 65 renal failure/transplant/dialysis kids who attend camp each summer. At the FV annual dinner last night, Eva was one of the three inductees into the new Frost Valley Hall of Fame. (The other two were Woody English and Halbe Brown.)

winner of the big-foot contest...is back

Michael Schneide made contact with us again last night after 23 years. Mike was a camper in 1983, '84, and '85. Those were perfect-storm years: he's one of the few FV mainstays who never ate either in the old dining hall or the new, as his time coincided with the three summers of makeshift meals at the smaller dining hall (now Geyer Hall). But they were good, high-spirited years, to be sure. And, per Mike last night, have had lasting positive influences on him. He was thrilled to be back. Just buying a new home in Queens; enjoying his job; and now contemplating a visit back to camp this summer.

Mike was a star, particularly in his final two summers. His last summer was the first summer of Pac (VC = Dave Gold). Mike had huge feet - size 15's I believe. He won Challenge Night in the big-feet event each session. David Marcone (who was a camper then) reminds me that Mike did a fabulous impersonation of Barney Rubble. A basically shy kid, he learned to step onto the stage and perform the funniest things. We brought out the joy in him. This he reminded us last night. And he asked about his old mates: Dave Gold, Dargie Mombo (Dargie, where are you?), Adam Diamond, et alia.

Welcome home, Mike.

we've been up to Wawayanda...

Mike DeVita remembers the early years of Wawayanda at Frost Valley, in a tribute to Dave King:

I HAVE A ZILLION memories of Wawayanda and Dave King. We both started there together after a summer break-in at Camp Conoy in Lusby, Maryland. I remember our first week at camp when we were first year VILLAGE CHIEFS (WOW! IN CHARGE AND WE HAD ONLY HAD ONE YEAR UNDER OUR BELTS). It worked out so well that Dave eventually became Program Director, then Camp Director and I eventually became HIS Program Director. Little bits: Singing on Sundays in the Camp Trio/quartette; Breaking down the rafters in the OLD DINING ROOM when we did a Rock and Roll Tribute and mimicked 'YAKETY YAK'/ the duets in the dining room...."Where's the golf ball, Dave?" "What golf.....mmph."/ leading the camp in singing "Michael Row the Boat" and "Kum By Ya" in dining room and at campfires/ the "privileged information and casual talks we had together when he was "the boss" (jest becuz we was friends)/ "The Mutt and Jeff" jokes/ scheduling overnights when everyone waited for me to select my overnight dates so they could steer clear of them and NOT get caught on a rainly overnight (it happened every time we went out).....gosh I could go on forever but I will stop and give someone else a chance. I am only sorry i got "out of the habit" or returning to Wawayanda...while Dave has become a "fixture."

they don't make 'em like this any longer

Dan Weir seems to be vigilantly watching Ebay for Frost Valley -related items. He found one today - a vintage 1980s (I'm guessing very early 80s) Frost Valley t-shirt. Hurry and bid for it. The price is right.

while the paint is wet

Many of the plaques dedicating rooms and lodges were painted by John Giannotti. Here's a preview of a brand new one John has made for Snow Lodge. He just finished it - and now is shipping it to Frost Valley, where soon it'll be attached to that lodge. But you've seen it almost before the paint is dry!

I've written here earlier about the dedication of Snow Lodge. Mark Gottdenker wrote this to me today: "I happened to be a counselor in Pac in 1991 (along with co-counselors Bill Baker and Blaine Robbins, all under the strong leadership of "Flash" Gordon Fair) when the village resided in (then very new) Snow Lodge. We (and the campers as well) were all very excited to be invited to participate in the dedication ceremony for the lodge in late July."

Josh Tucker's braces

Josh Tucker remembers Chuck White: "Either my first or second summer at Frost Valley, my parents got a call that there was a problem with a wire on my braces and that the camp would be taking me to see an "orthodontist" in Kingston. However, when they got up to pick me up, they discovered that someone at camp had managed to fix the problem. Who did this on site orthodontist turn out to be? None other than Chuck White!"

And believe it or not, I specifically remember this repair! I watched Chuck perform this operation. His hands were usually so dirty; he had to wash them for 20 minutes before commencing to pry away in little Josh's mouth.

spring finally

Spring has come to Frost Valley! Happy, happy, happy spring.

Daffodils fully in bloom in the grassy lawn just to the east of the Castle. There's the Castle tower in the background.

This great photograph was taken by Sara Munoz (formerly Sara Alexander, daughter of Stu and Valerie) this past Saturday.

thank you, Hunter

Buildings at FV don't get built by themselves, of course. But most of us have always just exclaimed ("new building!") and then figured out how to use it for the benefit of the kids and families who love to visit our valley. Although FV is a non-profit organization, the capital (one-time expenses, not in the operating budget) needed to do any construction or renovation must be found. For the Mitchell Conference complex (Geyer Hall, the renovated former girls' dining hall; Lakeview Lodge) and the new Wellness Center, we went into a capital campaign. Lots and lots of folks were involved. Two major gifts of $1 million each were pledged by Paul Guenther (wellness center) and Helen Geyer (Mitchell buildings) but hundreds of others gave smaller yet significant amounts, including many alumni (I'm proud to say). The fellow who co-chaired and led this campaign on the Trustees side was the remarkable Hunter Corbin, one of the kindest and most thoughtful--and most effective--people you'll ever meet. At the recent at-FV meeting of the Board of Trustees, trustees and staff gathered in the Day Room of the dining hall before lunch one day and thanked Hunter, presented him with a plaque...and Jerry Huncosky announced that the new road leading behind the Group Home (gray house that used to be the Devlins' and then Whites' residence) up to some new staff houses would be named in Hunter's honor: Hunter Lane.

Thank you, Hunter! Every child who has a fever or a sprained ankle this summer might well thank you too, as he or she sits in a beautiful comfortable spacious and friendly waiting room and can get some nursing TLC in a real treatment room. The digs are so good that one imagines campers will want to stay overnight rather than tramp back in the dark and cold rain up to a sandy-floored old cabin on the hill! Oh well.

April running brooks

The combination of snow run-off from Doubletop and a goodly amount of spring rain makes brooks that a normally just a trickle - and completely dry by August - run fast. Between the dining hall and cabins 21-25 flows one such stream. When Wawayanda first moved to Frost Valley in '58 and for many years later, this was known as Hemlock Brook (named presumably after the village that inhabited those cabins from 1958 to 1983). In recent years it's been called Trickle Brook - apt since, as I say, it's not much more than a trickle most of the year. Most FV'ers know this thing because after a big storm it flows right through the Big Tree Field and then is directed under the county road and after that moves through the horse field and into the Neversink.

If you walk above the dining hall area you'll see that Hemlock Brook also runs along the western edge of cabins 13-17 (formerly 16-20), the site of the newest renovated cabins we've been talking about lots on this blog. If you go to cabin 17 (20) and walk directly behind - "cabin 20's backyard" - you will go down a ravine fairly steeply and there's your brook.

Mid-April '08: right there this creek was running fast, little waterfalls all along the way. Here's one of the pics I snapped.

Janet Reis

Janet Reis - now Janet Lowe - was a camper, CIT, Junior Counselor and Counselor back in the 70s. When she moved to Seattle years ago, she knew no one in that city...except June Kaiser. She'd known June at camp somewhat, not well. But another Frost Valley person in a strange metropolis? Give her a call. June welcomed Janet - picked up her at the airport, invited her to stay for a few weeks while she got her feet on the ground. Janet and June - and now their families - have been close friends ever since.

I hadn't seen Janet for many years when she and her son Jordan, now a high-school junior, went on the college tour and planned to stop by to see Penn. Jordan has a talent for writing and wanted to see the Writers House. So we arranged a meeting.

Toward the beginning of our meeting / interview, Jordan said something about being cold. (But it was not cold! In fact it was quite warm that day in Philadelphia.) He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a sweatshirt and somewhat ostentatiously put it on. I was confused until moments later I realized he was putting me on--and it, the sweatshirt: it has "FROST VALLEY" emblazoned on the front.

When he was nine years old, Jordan flew with his mom across the country to spent two weeks in Totem village. Janet volunteer for those two weeks. Although Jordan was homesick a lot of the time and for various reasons did not come back, but he keeps FV in his heart and, if he comes East, will likely apply to join the staff. Janet kept the idea alive all these years: from the time her kids were young she sang camp songs with them in the car. It's a family joke ("awww, mom, stop with the camp songs!") but they all know them by heart, out there 3,000 miles away, a little of the Wawayanda spirt for sure.

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.

patches are back

Until the mid-1970s, every camper, at his or her final closing campfire of the summer, received a "Wawayanda patch." It was treasured. The number on your patch signified the number of summers. I remember holding my W5 during my Lenape summer (I was there six weeks), proud as all get-out, watching the embers of the fire, mesmerized by the last part of the patch-awarding sequence where people like Bud Cox, Digger Shortt, Dave King and others got their W12, W14.... (I got both of those later.)

For a summer or two in the mid-70s we experimented with "FV" patches - big colorful things - but they didn't seem to have the value of the old felt black-and-orange W's.

I remember strolling as a teenager in Manhattan, seeing some freaky long-haired guy sitting on a bench in Central Park. I took a second look and saw that he was wearing a jacket that had ten of these Wawayanda patches sewed onto it. Of course I approached him and we talked for an hour about camp.

In the earliest years, the patch was shaped as a W - with no number or shield.

Anyway, these patches were always merely symbolic and the system was administratively complex (you want to give each kid the right patch, at the right campfire), but it's one of those things that brings kids back the next summer.

There are many people who, upon reading this entry, will go to the closet and find their patches. There are several FV generations who will respond by wondering why we gave up the patches before their time.

Well, Dan Weir and others among the current directors are bringing back the patches - for the summer of 2008 and beyond. Campers this summer will get their new patch at the end of their stay, and apparently will receive (in the mail?) all their previous patches. Campers in Hird - for the older kids, Sacky and Hemlock and older - will receive, e.g., an "H4" if it's the fourth summer camp; but she also will have a W1 for her Pokey summer, a W2 for Susky, a W3 for Lakota, and the H4 for the first summer in Hird (Sacky). The directors will have to deal with the clamor among staff for their patches and figure out whether post-camper-years patches will be W's or H's. I'm Old School and would grab the W.

So here, below, are your sneak previews of...the return of the patches.

FV shorts spotted in Winter Haven

How many reading this have ever experienced the following: you're off somewhere, far away, out of context, some outlying spot, and you look up and see a stranger wearing a Frost Valley hat, a Wawayanda felt patch, FV gym shorts, a CIT t-shirt, and you ask, "Do you know Frost Valley?" and the next thing you know you're talking about a dozen people who like in common.

Ken and Sue Barton (I've mentioned them here before - Ken was our Program Director in the early 70s and Sue ran Arts & Crafts) do a lot of traveling around these days. I'll let Ken take over from here (a recent email to me):

"So there we are having lunch in Winter Haven, Florida, on a recent trip to Grandma’s and Disney World, when my bride notices a guy wearing FV shorts. A conversation ensues and... from Grahamsville, New York, we meet Scott Nyhof. His Dad was the pastor in Grahamsville, and Halbe was one of the board Members. He knew many of the camp families kids going back as far as Jim Marion. He is a geologist now and lives in Lakeland, Florida."

I have Scott's email address and we will be in touch. He's interested in reading what's on this blog. He's got some catching up to do.

the smell of our cabins reaches Afganistan

Peter King, who writes for Sports Illustrated, is on a USO tour of Afganistan - or, rather, he's covering the tour of NFL players there. SI's web site today has a kind of journal of King's impressions of being there. Here is what he says when he arrives and sees his sleeping quarters:

"We check into our barracks at Bagram Air Base, a major staging area for allied forces in Afghanistan. We're in a classic, old seven-bunk bedroom that reminds me of Frost Valley in the New York Catskills on Indian Princess weekends with my daughters. Same musty smell."

Ah, that fantastic smell of our cabins. It hits his nose all the way around the world. Unforgettable sense.

Forstmann helps demo campfire

Julius himself could have taught you how to build a proper campfire. Yes.

There seems little doubt to me that this photograph was taken along Pigeon Brook.

This is a photograph found in the New York State Archives. It was probably taken in 1920, and forstmann is third from the left. Here's what the archive notes say: "View of seven men standing in a forest by a stream watching an eighth man start a campfire. The original caption for this photograph reads: 'Forstman party - not for CC fires.' Julius Forstmann owned a large estate in Denning, Ulster County in the Catskill Mountains, and the third man from the left appears to be Forstmann. The date is unknown, but may be ca.1920. This image was created to record the forest fire prevention activities of the New York State Conservation Commission."