Indian Lake Camp

We Remember

 

ILC Memories….Bob Jasner   ILC  1945-1954; 1956-1959

 

I remember…

 

…sweeping out our bunks with a little green sawdust to catch only a little dirt, worst of the rotating jobs except “bathroom.”  I liked “dust pan.” from broom to wastebasket. My favorite job was “day off.”

 

…hitting a homerun off Gil Sopher!

 

…raiding “the Roost,” the oldest girls’ cabin, and raising sexy Marcia Doulglas’ bra up their flagpole.  Errol Flynn couldn’t have done it better.

 

…Al Taplar, who was there to be asked, Please pass the buttar, Mr. Taplar.”  It was funny then.

 

…the cheering and hugging at the end of the World War II. 

 

…Al Leavitt tying to hit a softball to the great water tower, but he was no JJ and the tower was farther than it looked.  (Note: JJ is                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Johnny Jabo)

 

…my cousin Joyce losing her bathing suit top in the lake. Why did it have to be her?

 

…the year Benny Edelson died.

 

…Matt Jasner catching us on the girls’ hill after the firefly night snake dance and saying we’d “just put the last nail in our coffins.”  They found more nails.

 

…the fever excitement of treasure and scavenger hints.

 

…Matt’s wife, Mae, barring us from “The Moon is Blue” as “too salty.”  None of us ever forgot that.

 

…”extra,” a reward of extra dessert or candy or the best of all – extra time in the barn at night.

 

…the night duty crew ribbing guys coming up the hill in shoes sandy from making out at the beach.

 

…”smoking” “punk” at campfires “to keep the mosquitos away.”

 

…the rifle range between the hills as a midnight rondezvous spot for lovers, complete with prone position mattresses and older campers tripping over counselors.

 

…parents day, eased by chocolate syrup, salami, comics and model planes, later by tips and pretty moms.

 

…”We want the chef!” and French toast with powdered sugar on top.

 

…the marathon man, the barber who did 100 haircuts in a day.  Recognizing friends after was the problem.

 

…broken bones, trick knees, charley horses, crutches, casts, slings, splints, ace bandages, elbow and knee pads, goggles, nose clips and ear plugs: the complete camper.

 

…and the spirited bugles calls that kept us moving.

 

“Taps” was different, slow and quiet, capping a campfire or ending the day after lights were out.  It  had a special dignity and serenity that gave a sense of peace.  On the last night of the season, it was heard more clearly.

 

“Day is done; gone the sun,

From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky,

All is well, safely rest; God is nigh.”

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Pretty Much All I Needed to Know, I Learned at Indian Lake Camp

 

Everyone says they learned what they needed to know for life in Kindergarten, but for me, it was Indian Lake Camp. As an only child, I loved the camaraderie of sleeping in a bunk with 7 other girls. Rest hour was not my favorite time, but I acquired the habit of reading in bed. Ahhh… a useful and calming life skill!  (I’ve given up the flashlight-under-the-covers, however.)

I learned about courage – jumping off the “tower” to pass the Lake Test took more fortitude than I thought I had. You can do more than you think.

 

The Nature Cabin with its animals and skeletons and assorted natural wonders began a lifelong fascination with the natural world. When I was a zoo docent and a teacher, I passed on those lessons -and I hope the love- to my students. My husband and I built a cottage on a lake in Maine – facing a mountain – that to me distills the beauty of our camp and the elegance of its simple architecture. I still love canoeing and exploring the nooks and crannies of the lake. Remember Tippee Trail? How the mud could suck your boot right off your foot? It was and incredible adventure to explore that muddy creek and learn that it was okay to get really dirty. Children are washable. Mountains and lakes are beautiful and inspiring.

 

Arts and Crafts; I can still feel the delight of entering that screened in little haven under the Coop. We made leaf ashtrays and wallets and shell pins and baskets. Each item was a gift for a parent or grandparent to be presented upon our return to the real world. I took the gift giving very seriously and I still love giving things to my friends and family.I remember starting a Girls’ Hill fad by making a bracelet out of a piece of  basket weaving material. We would make them as we strolled up the hill and returned to the bunk abter breakfast for “Clean Up” Craft activities - china painting, pottery, beading, jewelry making and bird carving have given me great pleasure and sometimes solace in life.

 

Clean Up – For a naturally messy person, trying to get my cubby straightened out and my bed made, complete with hospital corners, was a really important life skill. Job charts were good. They pointed out that everyone got to do it all. Remember green sweeping compound?

 

Singing – I can still remember all the words. Even though I can barely carry a tune, the pleasure of singing in a group is one I still feel. When a terrifying stint as a substitute music teacher was thrust upon me, I relied on Indian Lake Camp songs to get through the days. L-O-double-L-Y,  P-O-P spells lollipop. That’s the only kind of candy, candy. . .

I was shocked to discover that some ILC songs had other versions. There was even one song that by parents insisted was called, “Give My Regards to Broadway” instead of Broad Street. It seemed like plagiarism to me. It’s hard to unlearn what you already know. That is a good lesson for teachers, parents, bosses and other types, as well.

 

Riflery- I learned that guns did not necessarily mean violence, and I enjoyed the skill involved. I also appreciated the elaborate safety precautions that were an integral part of the experience. It showed that we were trusted and capable of handling something dangerous. I think the riflery counselor’s name was Jake, and one night he showed the whole camp his slides from the Korean War. It was an awesome and powerful message about the terrors of war. I think it was interesting that the camp permitted both of these activities. I doubt it would happen in a camp today, but I am glad I experienced it.

 

Games- Jacks were an ongoing, unsupervised, skill building activity. It was kid-to-kid with no involvement of adults, though the camp store did sell the jacks.  Sometimes you could get a splinter from the wooden floor, but nobody thought that was a good reason not to play. When we built that little house in Maine, we decided that games, not television or computer, would occupy our kids’ free time. It is a plan that still works – even for the grandchildren!

 

Romance: both the practical and the ideal were part of an ILC education. I remember the whole bunk of 8 or 9 year olds tickling a counselor half to death to make her tell us if her boyfriend had ever kissed her!

In later years, we prepared for the Dances with anxiety, fervor and Pixie Pink lipstick. Calming our panic and excitement, our counselors advised us about boys and how to talk to them. The thrill of a boy “liking” you - It was almost unimaginable! Boys like sports – so talk about sports even if you could care less! This admittedly old fashioned and perhaps sexist attitude gave us the clear idea that girls had some responsibility in the budding relationship. It was the girl’s job to make the boy feel comfortable. This was a useful piece of information that held up well over 43 years of a very happy marriage. And the ultimate ideal of romance?  The song sung by Dusky and Marcia (?)  “I have dreamed that your arms are lovely. . . ”   That always held up well, too.

Speaking of love, Indian Lake unabashedly fostered the love of camp as a high ideal. While it may have had some practical purpose for those running the camp, I think it worked to inspire loyalty and devotion to the institution of which we were a part. Loyalty to your school or occupation or spouse is a value which improves the quality of life.

 

Sports and sportsmanship; I was a mediocre, albeit enthusiastic player. To my great astonishment, I could serve a volleyball very effectively. I still treasure the memory of a girl on the opposing team whispering, ”Uh Oh, watch out for this one!” as I moved to that corner serving spot. We were endlessly advised about sportsmanship and the proper attitude toward teammates and the opposing team. We chanted formulaic phrases “2,4,6,8  who do we appreciate?" Summit Lake, Summit Lake   . .Yea, Summit Lake! I distinctly remember a volleyball meet in which, to our open mouthed astonishment, the opposing team chanted, “We can win, we will win, we must win! Unfortunately, they did win. It was, however, a Pyrrhic victory for they had committed an unpardonable breach of etiquette and we held the moral high ground. I have always felt that behaving well was its own reward. Don’t expect too much from those outside your small circle and you won’t be disappointed.

Do you remember the smell of Visiting Day? The air was suffused with the smell of mothers’ perfume. Suddenly there were parents to comb your hair right and tuck in your shirt and bring presents and take pictures. It was wonderful to see them and be hugged and kissed and exclaimed over. The difference from the real world was that this was our turf. They moaned over the hike to the athletic field and perched oddly on small benches. We campers were the guides, showing our parents the ropes and the blackberries, and introducing them to Mr. and Mrs. Oswald as well as to our bunkmates and counselors. What a great and maturing experience for a young child   - confidently leading a parent around the “hills of ILC”.

 

Emotional Expression There was a clear message in the music and the activities, that affection and sentimentality were legitimate emotions to be enjoyed and savored.” Friends, friends, friends, we will always be ……  Oh, Indian Lake Camp, our hearts we pledge to thee.”  On the last night of camp, we all sat together on the Boys Beach and watched Father Neptune climbed right out of the water and onto the raft! The sight of those moss and flower covered planks flickering with the amount of candles that equaled your bunk number as they floated on the lake on the last night of camp was sad and beautiful and moving and it was okay to feel all those things.

 

Friday night services were simple and a lovely part of the camp week. Dressed in “whites” and saying the blessing over the candles on the barn lawn and sang and listen to a counselor speak.  We experienced a touch of Judaism was both comforting and alluring. It felt good and reverent, - perhaps more so than religious training in the city. I have remembered those simple and essentially “Jewish” evenings and tried to recreate their atmosphere for my children and my students.

 

 The Lonesome Pine, towering above its neighbors seems like a metaphor for those lovely months at camp.  It spoke not only of the majesty of nature but of that splendid time of hikes and swimming, archery and softball, dancing and plays and friends you could whisper to after lights out.. They were days in which we grew in size and knowledge and skill. Our hearts and our confidence grew, too. We didn’t know it then, but we were getting ready for life.

 

Susan Beth Goldstein Frost

 

                                                Canoe Trips        

                                      Dick Denison

Besides chief life guard my other job on the water front involved boating. I am shown in the picture with

Bart Davis in the stern of the canoe. We had the usual set of boating tests based on Red Cross instruction.

Once I set up an elaborate canoe race to the end of the lake and back. The real feature of boating was

canoe trips on the Delaware River in segments from Port Jervis NY to the Delaware Water Gap. There were

lots of rapids on the way. A truck would take the canoes to the starting point and meet us at the end of the

trip. Once or twice I took girls on a trip. Mostly they were day trips but sometimes they were overnight.

Finding a place to camp without being shot by an angry land owner was a challenge. I really did not know

much about cooking. The kids would complain that they were used to having their meat and potatoes at

the same time. It tasted especially good though. At night several kids thought they saw or heard a bear.

In my last year I got tired of the same old canoe trips so on our day off a few of us explored other options

up near the Pennsylvania New York border. We found the Lackawaxen Creek a tributary to the Delaware

River. We asked if anyone went down the creek in canoes. We were told that some Boy Scouts did last

year. Before every canoe trip I lectured the boys that if anything happens hang on to the canoe. The retort

was, “You just want us to protect Mrs. Lehman’s canoes.” It was a lesson that fortunately they did remember

on the trip down the Lackawaxen. No one heard of life jackets back then. It started out badly. The water leve

l was very low at first. With all our supplies in the canoes they scraped the bottom. We had to push them like

a scooter with one leg outside. Finally we came to a place where the water was deep but there were cliffs

on both sides and we could not see around the bend. As we proceeded downstream there were waves

about  20 feet high at the exhaust of the hydroelectric turbines from Lake Walenpaupack above.  Some

tipped but we all made it to shore.  We asked some people on the shore which side was better. They

assured us that the left was better. We decided to go single file on the left around the bend. Our advisors

did not know that a huge tree had fallen near the left bank with huge roots facing us. One by one we were

capsized and tangled in the roots. Everyone held on to the canoes. Some of us ended up marooned on a

boulder in the middle of the stream. At 4:30 the turbines were turned off and we could walk across the

stream. Mrs. Lehman’s canoes did not fare too well. All the canvas ones had holes a large as one foot in

diameter. The aluminum canoes had some dents but they could float

 

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Joanne Spitz

Riding in the back of the pick up truck to the away games  ( volleyball)

Going down the street for horse back riding

Finding out that Liebestrum was not a song about Indian Lake

Copper enamiling  jewelry for my mother ( still have a pin)

Gymp - I just moved and found a hanger my brother  " gymped" around

He was also at ILC - started before me and was a waiter when I was there)

Remembering the older boys had to sleep in tents but we were in the "Roost"

Being forced to dance in " THE RED BALLON"

The George M Cohan tribute on the 4th of July

Being in the chorus of South Pacific

Fighting with my counselors and getting "docked"

Most fun - Riflery ( I am very anti gun now) , the over night canoe trips  and water skiing

Visiting camp friends in NJ and thinking it was very far away! ( I'm from Philly)

I think we were NOT on Daylight  savings time - does anyone remember ?

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Sally Kagen

Remember the Roost.

Kissing goodnight at the Bridge bunk.

The “In Couple”, Roy Yaffe and Leslie Pearl.

Smoking on the dining hall porch after meals.

Top girl crushes; Hank Donner and Kurt Pontz.

Writing letters to yourself to be opened the following year.

Betsy Kagen winning the Canoe Paddle in 1961 (she still has it).

Ironing each other’s hair and borrowing clothes before Canteen Night.

Going on bunk raids and putting someone’s underwear up the flagpole

which Marv had to take down.

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Lynne Cohen

Audrey Lehrman blowing on her bugle on her way to the Shower House to warm it up.

Flag raising and lowering.

The Lonesome Pine tree.

Lois getting covered with poison ivy and having to go home after she and another

counselor blazed a trail to the LP.

Nature walks in our boots up the little stream that fed the lake.

Stealing chocolate milk under the mess hall at night.

The Milk Line and Bug Juice lines.

Arts and Crafts under the Coop.

Paper Bag dramatics.

Sunday camp fires & s’mores.

Color War.

Winning Volley Ball games with Bib.

Scavenger Hunts.

Seeing the kitchen help peeling scads of potatoes while taking the lower path

to the athletic field.

Bees on the tennis courts.

Huge dragonflies that bombarded us.

All those camp songs we knew inside and out and backwards…don’t know them now!

Sharon Wexler as Annie in “Annie Get Your Gun”.

Daddylongleg spiders in your bed.

Bats in the bunk---Bib captured one in Bunk 8, with a tennis racquet & tennis ball can!

Dead mice in Bunk 7’s shower drain…we couldn’t figure out what that smell was! Walt Hazzard did!

Matt Jasner’s black nose clips.

Diving to the bottom of the lake for an “Advanced Swim Test” to bring up a handful of gunk

to prove you got to the bottom.

The wonderful food (except liver nights)..the chocolate pudding that has yet to be replicated

along with the French toast.

Burying letters to one self under “The Lonesome Pine”.

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Janie Jasner

Picnic lunch on the Barn lawn on Fri—toss the orange.

Candles and Queen Anne’s lace flowers on the boats the last night of camp.

The fair

My Uncle Matt’s flashlight length wise between couples at the dances.

Passing The Little White Church on hike days.

Grahams and milk under the mess hall in the rain and all the raincoats hung up.

Meeting the boys in the middle of the night at the rifle range and chewing gum

on the way so our breath would smell nice.

Meeting a counselor (WHO??) returning from the rifle range!!

Dance recitals on parents’ day.

Saltwater Taffies and Paddles sent by parents from Atlantic City.

The “WISHPLATES”.

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Karen Goldstein Bell

Camp Songs: Big Chief Love Little Indian Lake Camper, Love her him much do

Big Chief Die for you

Big Chief Go on Warpath if you no love him too.

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Hope Boonshaft

Do you remember:Charlotte’s Pudding; No Talking after Friday Night Services;

The Canteen; Our camp uniform called “reggies” that we wore on Friday nights

And on parents visitor’s day; The last night of Color War… The Sing; Sneaking

out to Fernwood (not only hiking); Waterskiing outside of camp.

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Suzie Laskin

I remember sneaking out to Fernwood in the afternoons-they had a soda fountain and

gift shop over there.

Going to “Joneses”, every wonder why that name when the sign said “Hiram’s Rest”.

I was the winner of “The Paddle” in 1966, and I still display it proudly in my home.

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Karen Goldstein;

Big Chief Love Little Indian Lake Camper, Love her him much do.

Big Chief Die for you.

Big Chief Go on Warpath if you no love him too.

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From Sally Kagen;

TO ALL WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's:

 

First, we survived mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant. And continued to do so when we were kids. (A friend born 1939 relates that her mother was regularly reminded whenever changing her, "Don't drop ashes in the diaper." SS)

 

Our pregnant mothers took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can,

and didn't get tested for diabetes.

 

We were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored

lead-based paints and bars wide enough to put our heads through.

 

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, or latches on cabinets. When

we rode our bikes, we had no helmets.

 

We were driven around in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or

air bags... not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.

 

Riding in the back of a pickup on a warm day was always a special treat.

 

We drank water from the garden hose, NOT from a bottle.

 

We shared one soft drink among four friends and NO ONE actually died from this.

 

We ate Twinkies, white bread, real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar,

but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

 

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back

when the streetlights came on.

 

No one was able to reach us all day, and that was okay.

 

We would spend hours building go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

 

We did not have Playstations, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no videos or DVD's, no CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms or Facebook....... WE HAD REAL FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

 

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

 

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes

 

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door, or just walked in. If it was lunchtime, somebody's mother always fed us. And didn't worry we were allergic to peanut butter.

 

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't

had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!

 

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we misbehaved in school or broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the principal and the police! And then we had to face THEM when we got home.

 

Somehow, we survived.

 

The past 50 years have seen an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

 

Our generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

 

If YOU are one of them, CONGRATULATIONS!

 

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids before lawyers, corporations and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.

 

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?

 

 

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