YMCA’S CAMP LETTS
When Bud and I were little shavers, we were sent to a basic training camp for city kids for two weeks in August. It was the thing to do to little boy kids in the 1930s. I guess it was a rite of passage or something like that to pry us away from our comfortable homes with flushing toilets and friends just to stick us out in wood cabins with small windows and no door in a dirty, hot and stuffy mosquito and tick-infested woods and open fields on the Chesapeake Bay.
I remember taking Bud to the YMCA building on I Street near 17th Street in Washington, DC, to meet the bus for Camp Letts. Mother cried as he got on that big bus for his two weeks at camp. I was sure I would never see him again, but he was happy going. He had to write one letter home a week (camp rules) and Mother wrote him every day. In those days mail only took one day to deliver. Two weeks later we met him at the same spot. Bud loved Camp Letts with a passion. He just glowed with anticipation for the next year. Canoes, swimming, camp fires, spooky stories at night, Guitar sing-a-longs, water fights, crafts, hiking in the woods, lots of new friends-but most of all he had no one to tell him to slow down, take a break, stay out of the sun, and the like. He could just run all day long and collapse at night. Then get up early the next morning and do it again. Brother Bud talked all year about his two weeks of fun and had a lot of real neat projects to show. I liked the woven neck lanyard with the hook on the end and the Indian bead bookmark with his initials, P.R.R. in red in the center.
The next summer I would be going with Bud to Camp Letts. There was an age limit of some kind, probably two or three years old at the minimum. I wasn’t sure if Bud could be trusted with his enthusiasm or had he given me a line of dribble. He was very good at getting me into trouble and well over my head on many occasions by his enthusiasm. I didn’t trust him.
Next summer soon arrived like an arrow shot from a bow. I was always shocked how slow school months passed but summer was a blink. We were loaded into the car for the trip to the bus pickup on a Saturday morning that was going to be hot and humid. That bus was the biggest bus I had ever seen and Bud was really excited, but I was apprehensive or maybe better described as fearful about this whole deal. I had never been away from home alone before. Being older Bud didn’t even sit with me on the bus but found a friend from last year right away and forgot little brother then and there.
We arrived at camp before noon since the busses would take back those campers whose time was up. I thought I might just get back on the bus and go home, but they scooted us off to the mess tent for the dividing into pre-selected cabins by age. That was the last time I remembered seeing Bud except every now and then I got a glimpse of a white headed flash going through camp.
We met our cabin counselor and I liked him immediately and he liked us. We unloaded our suitcases and went to lunch. I don’t remember how the food tasted but it must have been OK or I would have remembered. We were kept in groups by cabin mates for all activities and we were busy doing all kinds of wonderful things. I started my lanyard with a hook in the craft tent, and we swam with the crabs and nettles every afternoon. As usual I got sunburned the first day and spent the next few days in the shade of the craft tent making my lanyard.
The campfire at night was just as Bud had said and the stories and songs were fun too. Each night we had to cold-water shower with soap and stripped for our counselor to search us for ticks with a flashlight. That took a little getting used to but our counselor was quick and thorough and didn’t laugh. We found so many ticks in bed with us, so we would check our beds before getting in. No one needed to be rocked to sleep at night.
I wanted to go in a canoe, but we were too young. The older boys talked about going to the YWCA camp across the river by canoe at night. Our counselor and some of the others had girl friends in that camp, so they crossed over every night after visiting hours. I had no idea why they would want to do that. The older boys had more things to do than us little kids. They even had horses to ride and could go fishing in the Bay.
All of a sudden, it was Sunday and we had to dress in clean shorts and shirt for the sunrise Church service at the Chapel. The Chapel consisted of a clearing in the pinewoods with a tall wood cross. I don’t remember any more about that service. Sunday lunch was the last meal for the day in the mess tent. Sunday night we would cook our hot dogs on sticks at the campfire. I was having fun and was sorry the first week was finished.
The next event that I remember was waking up in the medical cabin with big screen windows that looked out into a pinewoods. I felt terrible and wanted to go home. I remember Bud coming to see me and I was really glad to see him, but he wasn’t Mom and Dad. I think I had a case of food poisoning. All I knew was I had chills that wouldn’t quit and I really didn’t care where I was, who I was or if I was. I was very confused about the whole thing but wanted them to close the windows so I could get warm. My fun camp stopped in that medical cabin. I soon was so sick I didn’t care if Mom and Dad came or not.
The third day I awoke with Bud by my bed and he said Mother and Dad were on their way to take us home. He had gotten all our stuff together and we were ready to go. I should just hang on a little longer. I really didn’t care one way or the other at that stage. Dad arrived and he was hot to trot to think they had not called sooner. I had seen Dad mad to the point of outrage only a very few times and that was one of his best. That speech of Dad’s while he carried me to the car got my attention as sick as I was and I remember thinking that I was glad it wasn’t me he was talking too. The whole camp knew my Dad that day.
I have no idea what caused my illness or even what it was, but I do know I was one sick pup. I was glad to be in my own bed and out of those piney woods. When I started to get better I couldn’t find my neck lanyard with the hook. I had not finished it at camp but brother Bud had finished it while I was recuperating. It was beautiful but I didn’t have time to make my Indian bead bookmark with my initials. Dad found a Boy Scout Indian bead kit with a frame and millions of beads as a present for us. Bud and I made bookmarks for everyone in the family for Christmas presents.
Bud said he had tried to call home the first day, but they told him I would be fine in a day or two. There was a rule at camp: no phone calls home. He checked on me four times a day but I was never awake. He got so worried about me that he threatened the Director with walking out of camp to phone home.
The next summer nothing was said about going to Camp Letts and that was fine with Bud and me.
ps.
www.campletts.org
I may apply next year. I see they are coed 8-16. No need to cross over in canoes late at night after TAPS. Hummmm? The world has changed since my pup days.
Is this progress??
I remember taking Bud to the YMCA building on I Street near 17th Street in Washington, DC, to meet the bus for Camp Letts. Mother cried as he got on that big bus for his two weeks at camp. I was sure I would never see him again, but he was happy going. He had to write one letter home a week (camp rules) and Mother wrote him every day. In those days mail only took one day to deliver. Two weeks later we met him at the same spot. Bud loved Camp Letts with a passion. He just glowed with anticipation for the next year. Canoes, swimming, camp fires, spooky stories at night, Guitar sing-a-longs, water fights, crafts, hiking in the woods, lots of new friends-but most of all he had no one to tell him to slow down, take a break, stay out of the sun, and the like. He could just run all day long and collapse at night. Then get up early the next morning and do it again. Brother Bud talked all year about his two weeks of fun and had a lot of real neat projects to show. I liked the woven neck lanyard with the hook on the end and the Indian bead bookmark with his initials, P.R.R. in red in the center.
The next summer I would be going with Bud to Camp Letts. There was an age limit of some kind, probably two or three years old at the minimum. I wasn’t sure if Bud could be trusted with his enthusiasm or had he given me a line of dribble. He was very good at getting me into trouble and well over my head on many occasions by his enthusiasm. I didn’t trust him.
Next summer soon arrived like an arrow shot from a bow. I was always shocked how slow school months passed but summer was a blink. We were loaded into the car for the trip to the bus pickup on a Saturday morning that was going to be hot and humid. That bus was the biggest bus I had ever seen and Bud was really excited, but I was apprehensive or maybe better described as fearful about this whole deal. I had never been away from home alone before. Being older Bud didn’t even sit with me on the bus but found a friend from last year right away and forgot little brother then and there.
We arrived at camp before noon since the busses would take back those campers whose time was up. I thought I might just get back on the bus and go home, but they scooted us off to the mess tent for the dividing into pre-selected cabins by age. That was the last time I remembered seeing Bud except every now and then I got a glimpse of a white headed flash going through camp.
We met our cabin counselor and I liked him immediately and he liked us. We unloaded our suitcases and went to lunch. I don’t remember how the food tasted but it must have been OK or I would have remembered. We were kept in groups by cabin mates for all activities and we were busy doing all kinds of wonderful things. I started my lanyard with a hook in the craft tent, and we swam with the crabs and nettles every afternoon. As usual I got sunburned the first day and spent the next few days in the shade of the craft tent making my lanyard.
The campfire at night was just as Bud had said and the stories and songs were fun too. Each night we had to cold-water shower with soap and stripped for our counselor to search us for ticks with a flashlight. That took a little getting used to but our counselor was quick and thorough and didn’t laugh. We found so many ticks in bed with us, so we would check our beds before getting in. No one needed to be rocked to sleep at night.
I wanted to go in a canoe, but we were too young. The older boys talked about going to the YWCA camp across the river by canoe at night. Our counselor and some of the others had girl friends in that camp, so they crossed over every night after visiting hours. I had no idea why they would want to do that. The older boys had more things to do than us little kids. They even had horses to ride and could go fishing in the Bay.
All of a sudden, it was Sunday and we had to dress in clean shorts and shirt for the sunrise Church service at the Chapel. The Chapel consisted of a clearing in the pinewoods with a tall wood cross. I don’t remember any more about that service. Sunday lunch was the last meal for the day in the mess tent. Sunday night we would cook our hot dogs on sticks at the campfire. I was having fun and was sorry the first week was finished.
The next event that I remember was waking up in the medical cabin with big screen windows that looked out into a pinewoods. I felt terrible and wanted to go home. I remember Bud coming to see me and I was really glad to see him, but he wasn’t Mom and Dad. I think I had a case of food poisoning. All I knew was I had chills that wouldn’t quit and I really didn’t care where I was, who I was or if I was. I was very confused about the whole thing but wanted them to close the windows so I could get warm. My fun camp stopped in that medical cabin. I soon was so sick I didn’t care if Mom and Dad came or not.
The third day I awoke with Bud by my bed and he said Mother and Dad were on their way to take us home. He had gotten all our stuff together and we were ready to go. I should just hang on a little longer. I really didn’t care one way or the other at that stage. Dad arrived and he was hot to trot to think they had not called sooner. I had seen Dad mad to the point of outrage only a very few times and that was one of his best. That speech of Dad’s while he carried me to the car got my attention as sick as I was and I remember thinking that I was glad it wasn’t me he was talking too. The whole camp knew my Dad that day.
I have no idea what caused my illness or even what it was, but I do know I was one sick pup. I was glad to be in my own bed and out of those piney woods. When I started to get better I couldn’t find my neck lanyard with the hook. I had not finished it at camp but brother Bud had finished it while I was recuperating. It was beautiful but I didn’t have time to make my Indian bead bookmark with my initials. Dad found a Boy Scout Indian bead kit with a frame and millions of beads as a present for us. Bud and I made bookmarks for everyone in the family for Christmas presents.
Bud said he had tried to call home the first day, but they told him I would be fine in a day or two. There was a rule at camp: no phone calls home. He checked on me four times a day but I was never awake. He got so worried about me that he threatened the Director with walking out of camp to phone home.
The next summer nothing was said about going to Camp Letts and that was fine with Bud and me.
ps.
www.campletts.org
I may apply next year. I see they are coed 8-16. No need to cross over in canoes late at night after TAPS. Hummmm? The world has changed since my pup days.
Is this progress??
posted by JackSML | 11:35 AM
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