Old Camp, New Camp, Red Camp, Blue Camp

            It has been four weeks since I traveled by train from Rensselaer County (Troy), New York to Newport News, Virginia on my way to Chanco.  I have had a lot of time to reflect on what that trip meant and how the experience was.  It was great to see old friends and to make some new ones.  My facebook “friends” list has increased considerably.

            On the return trip, I was teary-eyed and sad, but elated all the same.  I took some notes, determined to write some sort of wrap-up piece for the website.  Now, after a month, I still want to write it, so, here goes:

            This past weekend proved to me that “a friend is a friend forever.”  I traveled almost 600 miles by car and train to get to the reunion.  Not the farthest, by far.  I think that honor went to Alan and his beautiful wife who traveled across the Great Pond to get there.  Jenny (Belote) and her brother, David, traveled almost as far, David with family in tow.  It was good to see them all.  For those of you not there (clears throat and looks at David Davenport through the ether), it really was as if we had never separated; like I had just seen most of these people a week or two ago.

            I traveled with apprehension – not knowing what to expect.  First, I knew that I was arriving late.  That meant that I was going to miss whatever “welcome” event was planned.  Second, let’s be honest – I had not seen most of the people I thought I wanted to see for over twenty years.  Though not like a High School reunion, in some ways it was like a High School reunion.  But, there was one exception, we did not have 4-12 years of 180 days of having been together.  We had 1-12 years of about 50 days spent together.  They were intense days.  Full of laughter, tears and fears.  As campers, we were away from home in the care of strangers, year-after-year.  As staff, we were in charge of other people’s children. Large numbers of kids.  10-12 to a campsite with 2 counselors and 80-100 at free swim.  And we never lost one.  But, was that enough to bind us? It turns out that it was.  I walked into the Dining Hall and the first person I saw was Chuck Alley.  He greeted me and remembered me, immediately.  Then, over his shoulder, I saw his sister Marguerite (Cissy).  Our eyes locked, and a smile crept onto her face.  She recognized and remembered me, too.  At that point, I knew I was home.

            I realize, upon reflection, that it is the Spirit and the memories that bring us back.  That Spirit is present, wherever two or three of us are gathered and we can share our memories and share our love.  That was the best thing about the reunion.  There was real, palpable love at the gathering, both from people I knew, and people I met for the first time.  Thanks to all of you, old friends and new.

            That said, I was sad.  I was truly sad that so many who meant so much to me could not, or chose not to, make it.  There were holes.  Like someone making a cake from a familiar recipe, but leaving something out.  Something significant was missing, but not so significant as to make it indistinguishable from cake.  For those of you not there, we missed you.  We had a great time without you, but we missed you nonetheless.

            On the other hand, it was great meeting new friends.  I finally got to meet the wives of old friends, their kids, and the “children” who came after us to take care of the camp and the Spirit that we helped build and nourish.  It was strange having a former camper come up to say hello – a grown man – where here, 20+ years later, our 12 year age difference meant a lot less.

            The program was great.  My hat goes off to the Board of the Alumni Association.  There was stuff to do the whole time – some of it was very “work like” but surely satisfied all those “October Weekend” people.  But most of it was fun.  We had pajama breakfast, a birthday at lunch (complete with garbage can dunking), afternoon program, Indian Night and Evening Program.  I recount all that happened at the evening program, but I suspect that our entertainer will come for a reduced price or free next year.  Beyond that, what happens at Chanco stays at Chanco.  (But, “Tater, what did you do?”)

            When we are young, we are prone to make promises and vows that we would hesitate to make when older.  But I found one thing to be true.  If there is one place, on all the Earth, where you can go, be welcomed and accepted for who or what you are (even a Sarah Palin supporter), it is the place where we vowed to do just that for the last 40 years – Chanco.

            The Spirit of Chanco really is yours forever.  Come, get a recharge for that sunshine.  As I type this now, a month later, in my office, I have a chill.  I remember that weekend, and it is tucked away, in my memory, with all of my other Chanco memories (which are legion).  But, as I left Newport News on Monday, October 13, 2008, I was choked up on that train.  I was 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21, 23 and 27 years old leaving camp, again, and leaving love.  The world is every bit as cold as it was for all those years as I left camp and the people I know outside are no more understanding.  But, I thank God that I have all of you who do understand, because I know that you feel that cold, too.

I made my peace with the new Chanco.  That was a private moment on Monday, just before I left.  I really came to appreciate the new site for what it is.  Not an intruder, but a resurrection.  Not a replacement of the Chanco I knew, but a continuation.  That is why, God willing, Elaine (my wife who never knew Chanco, except through me) and I will baptize our soon-to-be born son, Augustus Abraham (unless the ultra sound was wrong, then Dinah Leigh) next year at the reunion.  I hope that everyone who was there is there again and I hope that many of you who I missed this year will join us for it, binding a new generation of my family to a place that has always welcomed me.

Thanks, again, to all who did attend and made it a special event and special occasion.  See you all (and hopefully a few new faces) next year.