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.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.
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.
