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End of Camp
1923 Camping Season
(Intro
from the 1979 Pineneedle)
A visit this summer from Mr. Armand Joseph, Kawaga camper and counselor
1921-1925, sent us back to the 1923 Pineneedle to share his reminiscences about
camp. From that early Annual, we found that some things have remained the
same over time, especially the sentiments of the Pineneedle editors as the '23
season drew to a close. They speak for us, as well, and we reprint them
here as a 65th Anniversary tribute to the Kawaga tradition.
(from
the 1923 Pineneedle)
Camp Kawaga Is Officially Closed
The 1923 Season Ended at 7:50 Last Night
No more does Ben's merciless right arm clang the old brass bell just before
he starts the breakfast, making us wish that we could climb down under the
blankets, for just a minute more. Louis's "All out on the ball
field" will no longer reecho its stentorian blast up and down the company
street.
The mess hall will stand bare and empty. The
cheerful clatter of cutlery, but a dream, a passing fantasy for a few months,
and a long winter of silence. The dry quack-grass on the ball field,
trodden by so many youthful feet, is once more struggling to raise its head and
grown once more on the deserted base paths.
The dock, silent and forlorn, stands there waiting
through the long winter for the return of it's youthful play fellows, waiting
once more till the sun, swinging into its summer orbit, will send them flocking
back to camp to splash and shout in the lake.
Yes, the gang has gone. Charlie and Monk, and
Chippie, and Leon, and Appetite and Jerry, Pal and Bobby, yes even Arthur, have
left, and the old spirit has gone with them. When they were here, here
also was camp, living and alert, and now that they go, Kawaga has resolved
herself into a group of buildings, inert and motionless.
The gang is gone, And with them, down deep in his heart
each one took with him, a bit of that spirit that was camp. Took it with
him back to the home folks, as a part of that Kawaga had given him.
We hope, all of us, to be back next summer. But to
those of us who may not, though we may be scattered to the four winds, we will
carry with us the thoughts of the summer of 1923 as one the happiest of our
lives.
The summer has given us much. It is sending us
away stronger, happier and better fellows, for having been in the open. It
has given us much, but the greatest gift of all, the gift that we will
appreciate only when we have exchanged the grime and rattle of city streets for
the pines and birches in the one that we can cherish wherever we may be and
whatever we may do. Yes, this summer has given us much. It has given us
friends, and a pal such as we may never find again. But above all these,
to keep a place green in our hearts for Camp Kawaga. It has given us
memories.
The flag, half Amsted so long for the dead President,
(Harding) has climbed to the peak, and dropped down the long pole for the last
time, and that start white figure stands as a sentinel, guarding the silent
shacks, till the boys come again.
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