memoir

A New Beginning

It was a clear, blue sky and sunny summer afternoon up in the forested backcountry of Maine. I was blond haired, thirteen years old, standing at a height of five foot four and filled with more enthusiasm than a hot air balloon filled with helium. Today, July 25, 2003 would be the first day of living with my yet to be known, but new camp family. As I unload the van, I take my first two steps onto the soil, taking in a large breath of fresh New England air, exhaling with a sigh of relief. I instantly realize that this place called Kawanhee is filled with brotherhood and tradition, and right away I realize that I want to make my mark and be a part of it.

            Like a stranger at a party, I turned to the only person I knew for guidance, Taylor Van Landingham, my good friend from back home who told me about Kawanhee. I decided that I would use him as a crutch for the time being to introduce me to some people. Back at his lodge, I met a few of his lodge mates, but no one too important to make a very strong first impression. “Hey yo what’s up,” are the first words I hear as I enter Taylor’s cabin. I tilt my head 90 degrees and look up into the rafters of the cabin only to be bombarded by a swinging body that plops to the floor with a loud thud. The body happened to be a boy named Jose, who was one of Taylor’s lodge mates from the previous year. Upon planting his two feet into the ground, he instantly greets Taylor with a great big hug followed by a quick and friendly pat on the back.  After seeing the strong bond that Taylor had to his lodge mates, I decided that I wanted that and realized that all I needed to do was build up some courage and introduce myself to my own lodge mates.

            As I approached my lodge, I was greeted to the sound of Puerto Rican rap and three individuals tossing their pocketknives at a cut up cardboard box. The three individuals were each wearing baggy jeans, a red headband and their own personalized soccer jersey. I felt like I had been dropped into some kind of trial system for a new and up coming Puerto Rican gang. Luckily, I dropped any biased idea that I had and was quick to introduce myself to them as A.J., the new guy. The three of them were named Carlos, Luis, and Gabby. Only Carlos would be my new lodge mate, however the other two would later become good friends of mine on the camp Kawanhee soccer team. After exchanging personal information to each other, Carlos walked me into the cabin to meet the rest of my lodge mates. Although it didn’t seem too significant at the time, I now look back at that first day of camp and realize that that day helped evolve me into the type of person that I am today. That day was the first true test of forcing me to break free from my normal element, to be more outgoing, and more willing to become part of something new.

“Brother’s” Not Friends

The cabin, which was my new home for the summer, was built back in the 1920’s. It resembled the log cabin from Little House on the Prairie and could hold seven bunk beds along with three single beds for each counselor. As I strolled around the inside of the cabin, I was quick to notice that there was just this one kid; lanky, black haired with large circular glasses, wearing short athletic shorts, a warn out Cleveland Browns shirt and had a space between his front two teeth big enough to squeeze a grape through. I’ll never forget this, after I introduced myself as A.J., he instantly sat up from his cot and responded with a “Yo what’s up, I’m Dan.” Immediately after greeting me with the “what’s up,” he pounded his chest twice with his fist, then kissed his finger-tips just like Sammy Sosa of the Cubs used to do after he hit his homeruns. After informing me that he was from Olentangy, Ohio and was an avid Cleveland fan, I new instantly that he would be one of my better friends at camp.

Dan was definitely one of the better people to get to know around camp. He knew everyone and had been there since he was seven years old, not to mention he had two older brothers and a Dad that had also attended camp. After getting to know Dan a lot better, we started hanging out a lot and he would be the one who introduced me to everyone I needed to know. My relationship with Dan was more than just friends, we seemed almost like twins born to the same mother, and everything we did we did together. I still to this day keep strong ties with Dan. He currently goes to Brown University and every winter we get together to perform the traditional Camp Kawanhee Bass Rock walk (A walk across the camps frozen lake to a large center rock). It’s kind of a hard relationship to explain, but after living with the same person for a long period of time and going through the hardships and good times, you as a person develop a bond with that individual stronger than any friendship, even stronger than the relationship you posses with your best friend whom you have known for your entire life.

Give a Little to get a Little

Another one of my good friends from camp was Johnny Sengelmann. At the time, Johnny was kind of plump and had long shaggy brown hair like a singer from some 1980’s rock group. Johnny and I got to know each other through water skiing. Before I ever attended camp, Johnny had been known as the best water skier at camp for his age group, but that would soon all change. Coincidently, Johnny was riding in the boat the first time I ever water-skied at Kawanhee, so he got a front row seat to all the action. I showcased my skills by starting out on two ski’s, then dropped one mid run leading into a slalom ski, from there, I lifted one of my feet off the ski performing a spread eagle, a difficult trick that involves holding the rope with one foot, while the arms are spread out in the air like a bird. After my run, Johnny rushed out of the boat and pulled me up out of the water onto the ski dock. While on the dock, attempting to take off my water vest, Johnny got up in my face and said, “Where the hell did you learn to do that, I’ve been skiing since I was six and couldn’t even imagine attempting something like that.” I responded to him by letting him know that I used to go to another camp, where I devoted most of my time water skiing. If it were not for my eagerness to get out and explore my surroundings, Johnny and I may have never found the link that relates us to one another, thus causing our relationship not to be so strong.

 Another activity that Johnny and I really enjoyed was soccer. We would spend the majority of our nights playing soccer after dinner, however we didn’t play the traditional way, we played a game called “World Cup,” which involved one goalie and everyman playing for them self to be the first to score. Johnny for the most part taught me how to get by at camp and in exchange I helped interest him into eventually trying out for his high school soccer team.

Johnny and Dan already had quiet a strong bond, but when I came into the mixture, I intensified the bond making the three of us being inseparable no matter what we did. Like everyone, I’ve been told not to brag or make myself look too flashy, but when it came to the three of us, we were the poster children to everything. Being the leaders that we were, one day after church ceremony, we decided that Sundays are a bit too relaxed, so we came up with an idea to run a four dollar per team two-on-two basketball tournament that resulted in the winning team of the tournament taking home the grand total. I unfortunately never ended up winning the tournament, however still to this day younger campers have carried on our tradition and it has taken on quiet a bit of popularity. Yes we were leaders, but that doesn’t mean that we always made the right decisions.  Back in 2005 after a formal dance with our sister camp, Camp Arcadia, Dan, Johnny, another camp friend Bono, and myself all decided that just having a dance didn’t give us enough time to hang out with the lovely ladies of Camp Arcadia. We devised a plan and executed it perfectly. As the girls were rolling out of camp in there white Dodge Caravans, we decided to chase their vans completely butt-naked hoping that for some reason they would stop and come back for more. As it ended up the idea wasn’t a very good one, weeks later we all were given mailings of our naked pictures and still to this day there has never been another formal dance. As for Johnny, Dan, Bono, and I, we were all punished by having to personally write an apology letter to every girl that attended the dance. If there is anything that I will always remember from this event, it is this, while planning out the task, I asked Dan “Why should we streak after their vans to gain attentions?”  Without hesitation, he responded, “Dude you gotta give a lil, to get a lil,” and on those words alone I was sold. I still to this day am puzzled as to why I par took in those shenanigans, the only reason I can come up with is trust, but not an everyday trust, a trust that can’t be explained, but is maintained through loyal brotherhood. 

Connections

Although Paul Bonasera had attended camp every year that I was there, it was not until summer of 2006 that we hung out and really got to know each other. He was a year older than me, but we both possessed the same rank of being a Junior Counselor and that summer we were counterparts to one another. Paul, or Bono as we all called him was a fairly quiet person, he stood at about five foot eight, had black hair and a major passion for music. I remember spending hours in the front row seat of the van exchanging all the knowledge we had once acquired about Notorious B.I.G. on our long and drooling drive to Bar harbor. Today Paul continues to research music and he even has an amazing musicblog called “Paulbono.com.” From one family to another, my “brother,” Bono, also attends Ohio University and he recruited me into his fraternity Pi Kappa Alpha. Inadvertently, Pi Kappa Alpha also happens to be the same fraternity that my dad was a part of back in the day at Bowling Green State University. It’s really pretty amazing how small this world is and just knowing the right people can open you up to connections you thought you never had.

Establishment of Camps

 I find it hard to talk about Kawanhee without going into a little history as to why and where it came from. However, before I talk about Kawanhee, I feel it is important to talk about where camps in general came from. According to wikipedia.com, a Pastor by the name of Bion originally created camps in France for children to be diverted from their homes during post war times. The first camps were set up in the in the Swiss Alps back in 1876. Bion set the model for how camps were structured; they were usually located in remote locations and were also used as the main means for schooling the children that attended them.

            As for Kawanhee, two brothers, George and Raymond Frank, started it back in 1921. Both Frank brothers were strongly associated with youth programs in their respected hometowns. After hiking the near by mountains of Kawanhee, the two men decided to start what is today Kawanhee. With little money and strong ambition, the Frank’s brothers took out a loan for $5,000, purchased 60 acres of land and had recruited 16 boys to start off the Kawanhee tradition. Kawanhee has come a long way since 1921, currently it is recognized for recruiting boys from all over the world and can hold up to 300 boys during one camp season. Unfortunately both the Franks brothers are now deceased, but I’m sure if they were here today they would be proud to see what has become of there beloved camp.

            As for myself, I have been associated with the brotherhood of camp Kawanhee for the last six years and not a day goes by that I don’t use some skill that I have acquired from there, or have some thought about a memory that relates to my experiences here in college. From the outside it is often hard to imagine why a place like Kawanhee is so important to me. People often refer to camps as a place for parents to drop their children off for the summer, or a place for fat kids to lose weight, but to me Kawanhee is my utopia, it is the place that I grew up and it will always be a part of me. I hope that everyone has there own personal type of Kawanhee. This is now the point as to where I wish you all a farewell and in the words of the recently deceased Kawanhee legend, Herbert Birch, “May there always be a Kawanhee.”