THE GREATEST PLACES IN MY LIFE - PART 1

“You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!”

-Dr. Seuss

The other night I was lying in bed and reflecting on the wonderful places that I have visited in my life. I feel like I have experienced so many great places my 11,000 + days of living. There are the obvious touristy choices like whitewater rafting in Costa Rica, cave diving in Belize, staring at the Mona Lisa in Paris, walking thru the British Parliament in London, standing on the beach in Israel to watch the Mediterranean equinox, walking in Anne Franks attic in Amsterdam or perhaps climbing Arthurs Seat in Scotland. When it comes to the places and people that have shaped my life, these have all been great ventures yet none break into my top 3 places.

I hope you spend the next few days with me in my 3 part essay series, “The three greatest places in my world.” Perhaps these places are meaningful to you as well or perhaps my blog will help you to rediscover your own great places in life. I think some of my choices may surprise you.

PART 1 –

“Love will pervade us till death separate us we're friends, friends, friends."

This is not my wedding vow but rather a song that I’ve chanted around 600 times over a 13 year period of time. It’s a song that has great meaning because as sappy as it may sound, the words were always reflective of how I felt then and today. From 1988-2000, I spent my summers at an overnight camp in the Pocono Mountains called Golden Slipper. I recognize that every person has their own love affair about the camp they grew up attending. This place became more than a home; it became a fixture of my life.

My experiences were special because of the unique environment surrounding the camp. It was over 100 acres of serene woods and the ever presence of chirping crickets. In the middle of this wildness laid a spirit and a cause so ingrained in the soul that it was never spoken out loud but always felt by those who’ve attended. There were things that always existed to make the camp a fully functional. There were sporting activities, drama club, computers, bikes, a mile long lake, swimming, comfortable living quarters and 3 meals a day. It is a million dollar annual operation that exists and runs primarily because of the kind donations of a bunch of well-to-do philanthropists 90 miles away in the Philadelphia region.

The camp is not a prototypical camp where rich parents send their kids to learn how to swing a tennis racquet, although Golden Slipper did manage to do that anyway. It wasn’t a camp that existed to line the pockets of any one particular camp owner. This camp exists purely on a breakeven philosophy. Most of the campers come from moderate to low economic upbringings. Many have a single parent and in some cases, no parents at all. To be a camper at Golden Slipper it was both a pleasure and an honor that was never taken for granted. We all knew what we had and we recognize that in reality, our camp had more amenities and activities then the camps whose parents paid a lot more money.

I began as a nine year-old camper. My parent’s main motivation was to ship me, my brother and sister off for one summer because they needed to concentrate on moving to our next family home. Golden Slipper was the cheapest and logical option but they didn’t account for the profound effect that camp would take in my personal life. This place taught me things about myself that I didn’t even know existed. I began to feel comfortable in my own skin, being goofy without being judged, learning to live on my own without the need for parental help and developing a network of friends that still exist today.

In 1988, my first year of camp, I had two counselors who looked over me and saw my well-being. At the time they were 19 and 20 years old respectively. Now I’m 31. They are 41 and 42 years old and are still a big part of my life. When I was in my 2^nd, 3^rd and 4^th years of camp I became friendly with guys and girls who have now become my closest friends. Some of them were groomsmen at my wedding. All of whom are a quick phone call away for me. These are all men & women who have shaped my life and defined who I am today.

This camp had character and characters. There was the scary pool guy with the deep booming voice, who would serenade us at night time with his acoustic guitar. There was the woman in the office, who despite being confined to a wheelchair, still managed to bring us a spiritual compass to our camp experience. There was the curmudgeon camp director, who beneath his beard and tough exterior was a boy living out his own camping fantasy. He would sometimes crack a reassuring smile while still cracking his whip in the everyday operations of the camp. There was also the Assistant Director and his Jane-of-all-Trades wife, together they became more then camp administrators but ultimately took the role of camp parents to all of us.

Then there was a man named Ronnie. I feature him in this blog because he was one of the most interesting people I have ever met in my entire life. He was a camp lifer. He performed nearly every role in camp in his 30 + years there. He was a counselor, ran the pool, served as administrative support, worked in the infirmary and ultimately felt most comfortable as the camp driver. In truth the man had more medical issues then can ever be told in a full season of “Greys Anatomy” but he also seemed like the Teflon man as he never let much take his focus off his love of camp. He had an unusual sense of fashion with his ecliptic collection of colorful sunglasses and his shorts that were so short that they came close enough to getting someone kicked out of catholic school.

Both of Ronnie’s children were staples in the camps history. Both of them spending time as campers and counselors, much like the rest of us. It was a family affair for Ronnie and he loved three things in life, camp, his children and aggressive driving. Having road rage and also being the camp driver is what made his character so endearing. Ronnie was the type of man who would do anything for anybody without ever seeking anything in return. I couldn’t tell you how much pay he earned from working in camp but you kind of understood that he’d do it for free if he had too.

Many of us got our cue from Ronnie. He was a mythological camp hero whom we all admired as a camper and as we all grew older together, we admired him even more as a friend. In the offseason, we’d invite him to dinner and to functions. We were a band of brothers bonded by the love of camp. We were from different generations. We were in our 20’s and he was our token 50-some. He even helped me move into my apartment by driving the Uhaul truck. In June of 2005, I got a call from one of my closest camp friends. That friend was the kind of person who is even-keeled and never gets emotional about anything. Yet on this day in June, his voice trembled. He began to weep and uttered the words that I still can’t comprehend today “Ronnie has died.” What? The ageless man who always bounced back from medical issues is gone too soon? Ronnie had died in his sleep after going home for a doctor’s appointment.

To this day, I can’t tell you that the three saddest days in my life were the funerals of my grandmother, my grandfather and Ronnie Asherman.

Ronnie symbolized something far deeper then a man who drove a van for a camp. Ronnie symbolized the kind of love, passion and gratitude for the things Golden Slipper has provided in my own life. The memories included the tranquil nights of walking through the lake path, camping out under the stars, camp color war (which we call The Olympics), learning silly songs that stick out in my mind today. I also remember the campers that I was a counselor for when they were 7 years-old, who are now in their 20’s. It’s the cyclical world of Golden Slipper Camp, a place that has taught me so much more than I’ll ever know. It’s impossible to describe it to anyone who hasn’t experienced it themselves but also impossible to live your life without ever thinking about it. If you take my trip to see the Mona Lisa, my cave diving trip in Central America and my Mediterranean sunset equinox and put them all together, it would never match what 13 summers of Golden Slipper Overnight Camp did for my life