Susquehanna cabin 6, 1965

Top row, middle: Bev Gross, counselor of cabin 6 in Susquehanna Village, 1965. This is the cabin that is now numbered 36.

old cabins on "the hill"

Cabins 41 through 45 seen at dusk recently. Many reading this will remember them as Girls 11-15 (Sacky for many decades). In the 21st century this village has been the home of Lakota, a girls' village in Wawayanda between Susky and Sacky by age. You can see four of the five in the row--possibly, if you look closely, you can see all five. I was one of those who used to complain about how jammed-together the cabins on "The Hill" are. I've even been known to call them tenements. But their location has grown on me over the years. The cabins themselves are pretty worn (having not really been renovated since they were built in 1965 or '66). But the campers and counselors who live in them swear by the scene: they love it. The walk from cabin 46 (formerly 16 in Tacoma, now Susky) is the longest walk to the dining hall from a place of campers' residence. So 45, which you see in the foreground, is the second-longest walk. If you have stories about these two "hill" villages, send them to me at afilreis [AT] gmail [DOT] com.

Tom Cometa writes: "Cabin 45 was our family camp cabin for 6 years. Dylan, 7 years old, has been practically raised there. True, the cabins in old Sacky are "worn" at best. From year one, Andria has asked Carmel for an upgrade. The walk to the dining hall is long. Nevertheless, the villages up there have a certain inexplicable charm. Two years ago we got our upgrade. We now have a very fancy, upscale cabin 15 in the old Lenape ring. The boys were heartbroken. Andria is digging the carpet, the space, double sinks and two bathrooms. I know she misses the old hood, though. It's peaceful up there among the trees above Lake Cole. When I showed the picture of cabin 45 to Dylan he said, 'Let's go back there, Daddy. I miss that cabin.'"

before Hayden Lodge

Anyone who came after 1970 will be disoriented by this photo, which was taken in 1965 or '66. You are looking at (on the left) what is now Hayden Lodge--what was then "the Crafts Shop," or "Forstmann's garage." Even as the home for Arts & Crafts, it looked and felt absolutely like a garage. Two large garage doors and two bays inside. I have a vague recollection that for at least one summer in the mid-60s, it was actually used as part of check-in. I believe the nurses (wearing whites - and caps!) were stationed in their to give us a check-in-day check-up--among the big bins of loose tiles and wooden parts for birdhouses and spools of colorful lanyard.

Off to the right you see one small building and part of another. The little one is the Flyfishing Shack - in Forstmann's time, the paymaster's hut. And then the back edge of Smith Lodge, the "Infirmary," later "the Heath Center." Recent FV'ers will even have a little visual trouble with this, because since 1975 the dialysis center has been a wing of Smith Lodge coming well off the back. Today this view of the little shack would be obscured by that back wing of Smith.

Between the Crafts Shop and Infirmary (look behind the white car) you can barely see the deer fence that fenced off the apple orchard that in those days served as our Archery Range. It is now still an orchard but is also the location of our greenhouse and gardens.

The vantage-point of the photographer (me) is the front of the Rec Hall (now Margetts Lodge).

building Lake Cole

Lake Cole is a man-made lake, as almost everyone knows or recalls. Wawayanda's first summer at Frost Valley--1958--was a lakeless summer. Harry Cole led the team that created our current stream-fed 23-acre lake between the summers of '58 and '59. This photo was taken in '59 or '60. The dock and swimming area you're seeing here is situated on the eastern edge of the lake, near the boathouse--not along the northern edge which is where the swimming area is today. (In this picture the boathouse would be off to the left at about 10 o'clock.) In the background you can see the grassless, treeless rim of the newly dug area. Later pine trees were planted all along the southern edge of the lake between the high rim holding the water in and the road. These trees are now tall and full. The blonde counselor on the diving board here is one of a number of staff who came from Towson State College--brought to Wawayanda, I believe, by Digger Shortt and/or other Baltimore-area folks. I can remember, as a camper, that my camp director (Dave King) and program director (Dick "Yo-Yo" Sommers) were both Baltimoreans. It's even the case that at dinner Baltimore Orioles scores were announced (they were of course a great team in the mid-60s*). Even later, in the early 70s, prominent staff members like Barry Dunkin came out of Towson State. By now the Towson connection has long faded, but my memories of the odd-seeming Marylandcentricity of Wawayanda in those days hasn't. (Someday, in another entry, I'll say something about another eccentric geographic pipeline: the Mississippi connection.)

* I suppose there would have been protests about this had the Yankees or Mets been any good then. The Yanks had just gone bad, starting in'65, and the Mets of course were perennial 10th-place finishers in the National League. My dad, Sam, mailed me short short notes when I was at camp--always enclosed with a Newark Evening News clipping about the Mets game the previous day and the National League standings. I'm not sure why I enjoyed this. My team typically lost 90 to 100 games and typically sent no one to the all-star game. But I can remember as one of the great pleasures of being at camp, this: rest hour, a cool breeze blowing through my own little crank-up window in my cabin, my green navy wool blanket (always tucked neatly into my bunk), resting my head on my pillow and gleaming white pillow case (I changed the case at least 3 times during each 2-week session), and the day's mail just brought in by my junior counselor, and I always started with the letter and news of the Mets from my dad. His letters read like this:

Dear Al, nothing much going on here. I don't see any of the neighborhood kids. You are lucky to be at camp. It's hot here. Must be cool there at night. The Mets lost again. What else is new? Ron Hunt was hit by a pitch twice. Love, dad.