Blue Gums himself was not so great a deterrent to the late night movements that called us out of our tents, sometimes with friends, to venture out to the edge of camp where the latrines waited, black and silent. In fact, during many frightening camp fire tails, it was not uncommon to catch a whole semicircle of campers and staff, clutching blankets, holding arms around the fire, staring off into the woods in the direction of the outhouses.

As a camper and then as a councilor, the latrines were a particularly nasty initiation to life at the old camp, particularly during what we later termed ‘The Drop Pot Era’…

The smell was so notorious, it was rumored  continue reading »