In the previous parts of this series, I discussed a little about my father’s and my grandfather’s contribution to Camp Long Lake. Today, we’ll talk about my part.
It was back in 1981, and I was a young 16 years old. I was stationed in the kitchen. I was, along with the other 16- and 17-year-olds, dessert chefs and dishwashers. The kitchen was small, but we didn’t know anything different. (There was a major renovation in 1991, but more on that in a future post.)
We worked with the radio on. Every week or two, one of the council commissioners would drive up and inspect the camp, including the kitchen. His name was Omar Runyon, and his wife’s name was Dot. Whenever the Billy Squier song “In the Dark” came on the radio, we changed the lyrics to “Ohm and Dot.” There was another not-so-innocent song that somebody misheard as we sang the actual lyrics. The other guys altered the lyrics to match what was misheard. I thought the altered lyrics went too far, so I didn’t participate in that one and sang the real lyrics instead. I won’t discuss it further.
Overall, it was a good experience, though. the kitchen is actually a deceptively easy job. Fairly well defined hours and free time otherwise. I spent a lot of time in the boats, mainly canoes, though occasionally in the rowboats. The didn’t have any kayaks in those days. Interestingly enough, when I returned this past August, they’re still using the same aluminum canoes and rowboats I used as a boy, and they’re still in decent condition.
Unfortunately, Bud Smith (see previous two posts) left the camp in 1979, so I missed working for him by two years. I really wish he would have stayed on, because I’m sure I would have heard all kinds of stories about my grandfather. I’d bet Bud would have enjoyed having me up there, too. The ranger when I was on staff was Cary Kazcik, a very different man who loved the camp, but wasn’t blessed with quite the same charisma as Bus Smith. I liked him, though. We had a common interest in astronomy, which would have been a merit badge I probably would have taught if Uncle Bud were still there. But, Kazcik taught it. Always.
I do remember one time a very big storm blew through. Kazcik, another person, and I stood on the hilltop near the Pabst Lodge (Dining Hall). I think the other person may have been the camp director, Mark Urban. We spotted a funnel cloud uncomfortably close and Kazcik radioed it in to the sheriff’s office. It never hit the ground. That was the worst storm of the summer.
In the photo above, Urban is in the back at the far left. Kazcik is in the back at the far right. The woman in the photo is Mrs. Kazcik. The little red arrow points at me. It’s not a particularly good quality image as it’s a photo of a photo, and the original is a bit faded from age. But, you can click it to enlarge the image. You can sort of make out faces if you do.
