If you go to print.google.com and search for Camp Paradox it links to the Autobiography of Richard Rodgers:

Musical Stages: An Autobiography by Richard Rodgers - Biography & Autobiography - 2002 - 384 pages Page 38 - Since there was nothing else to do for the moment, I accepted a job as a counselor at a boys' camp called Camp Paradox. It was run by a likable fellow named ...

From Robin I've received some sad news. Alex Landis died on Thursday, October 27th, at his home in Branchville, NJ. The funeral was on Sunday, October 30th.

I you would like to contact Ann, I have her address. Send me an email using the link at the bottom of www.campparadox.com.

my sincere condolences to Ann, Robin & Eric on their loss. I still have fond memories of Alex from camp. Altho he was the business half, he always enjoyed the camp experience.

my thoughts are with Ann, Robin & Eric...

Sorry to hear about Alex. I was always treated so well by him, both when I was a paying CIT and a paid couselor. He was always a gentleman.

i, too, was sorry to hear about alex. my condlences to his family. happy thanksgiving fellow campers! enjoy your time with family and friends. steve

Moving Again

dear campers:

first, best wishes for a happy & healthy new year! "More camp fix in 2006"

well, we're moving again -- but in the same area: our new address, as of january 1st, 2006 will be 10370 Osprey Trace West Palm Beach, FL 33412 561.776.5590

Hope all is well with everyone. Keep in touch.

bill

I regret to inform the community that one of their own Kenneth Greenfield passed away on December 24,2005. He attended your camp 1964-1970. your camp really inspired him, he absolutely loved your camp. In fact his main reason for buying a computer was to play around with your website and look through his alumni. Well, anyway, he grew up to be a pharmicist, and he was truely loved by my family and his to this day. Forever on he will be greatly missed.

This website meant a more than most of you can imagine to Ken. Paradox was the best time of his life. This sight allowed him to feel that he was still part of the paradox comunity and filled a great void in his life. Arnie and I would like this time to thank those responsible for creating and maintaining and participating in this site. You should know that you made a great difference to someone who truly needed it. It was a bright spot in hus life. Anyone wanting more details can contact me directly at xxx or can call at yyy.

i am so sorry to hear about ken’s untimely passing. reliving the memories of camp was very comforting to him, and perhaps somewhat therapeutic. i could tell that his eyes lit up and his smile returned when he would speak about his past camp experiences. it's too bad we couldn't continue to sustain that communication and be there for him, as i know he would be there for us, if necessary.

may he rest in peace.

This is very sad news about Ken. I really only got to know Ken somewhat after the reunion and it was clear that Camp Paradox meant the world to him. We had him over for dinner one night (bringing as a gift the biggest box of chocolates I have ever seen) and we talked for hours about camp and the Beatles and all things Sixties. He was a truly gentle soul and one of the kindest people I've ever met. He will be missed.

Kenny and I were best friends at camp. He started the summer of 63 and 64 was my first summer. We were in cabin 11B in 64, 14 in 65, 18 in 67 and 30 in 68. We were pretty close and kept in contact for a few years through college. Talked to him once about 8 years ago. Camp was his life all those years and when he wasn't "asked back" to be a CIT in 68, i Know he took it pretty hard. That whole concept of being asked back was alway stressful for those that not only loved camp, but also settled into that summer comfort zone. I remember feeling very badly that he was not with us during the summers of 69 and 70. I know it was a difficult life for kenny, growing up with just his mother and Arnie. He never complained, but looking back, you knew he missed having his father. I don't know the details of his passing other than what is here...but if there is a heaven...who he was, insured him a place, and I would really pray, that is is a better place for him...this news really brings tears to my eyes. Arnie...didn't really know you well in those years...but i'm thinking about you now, Alan Shier

Very sad news. I got the feeling Ken had a lot of things to deal with in his life. I am thinking about Arnie and hope he is OK.

I was deeply saddened to hear of Ken's passing. I'm glad I was able to see Ken at the Paradox reunion. My thoughts are with Arnie and Lyn at this most difficult time.

Thanks -- Nice tribute to a great camper

Its a shame to come upon this website and find that my first posting must follow such sad news. I was amazed at all the names from the past and all the fascinating posts made over these past 5 or so years. Many may not remember me as I was very young when Paradox closed, being only 10, but my older brother Howard is perhaps more readily remembered. We were known by fellow campers as Danny and Howie. After pouring over all the various links for the past hour I got on the phone to tell my brother about it - he was also amazed. Barry Mittleberg was one of my counselors. I believe Tom had something to do with my first Howie Kretz club experience, and I remember many of the others as well. I now live in Oakland, CA and my brother in Los Angeles. My wife is now insisting I come to bed so I'll have to fill in more later. Thanks to Tom for maintaining this site - what luck to stumble upon it.

Kids crying, wife nagging - I cracked under the pressure. Rickey Mittelberg was my counselor, not Barry, of course. My brother and I were part of a contingent from Westfield, NJ, of which there were a number, but I know not the whereabouts of any of them. I had some notable accomplishments in my short time at Paradox - our bunk won skit night - we re-enacted the story of Rocky Raccoon, as sung by the Beatles and released that year - I actually sung the song while my fellow bunkers acted it out. I was also the sophomore unit chair and served with Ron Stack, Howie Ross, and I think it was Ron Berenson (another Westfieldian.)

Several years ago, we assembled a CD with LOTS of Paradox memoriabilia: photos, audio letter from GER in the early 1990's, Paradox records, all the yearbooks from Paradox and Paragon, with all bunk photos, etc.

If you want a copy, you can download the LARGE file. It's 700 megs and could take many hours with a cable or DSL modem. (Don't even bother to try if you're using dial-up.)

Right click the following link and save it to your desktop. Then unzip the file to your hard disk.

Link to CD:  http://www.campparadox.com/pxcd (User name and password are camp and paradox respectively)

Dan, Ward Bodner was a swimming counselor in '68 I believe. Was he any relation to you?

I vaguely remember Ward - he is not related as far as we know. I also remember Ward is short for Howard, and his full name is Howard L Bodner, a very strange coincidence because my brother's name is exactly this as well, however Ward's middle name is Lewis and my brother's is Lee. I just spoke with my brother and he seems to remember that you, Jim, were my fishing counselor or camp craft counselor. Can't say as I remember that, but possible.

I haven't checked this website for a while. I was saddened to hear about Alex Landis and my most heartfelt condolences go to Eric,Robin and Ann. Alex was a very special person who I got to know on a personal level and always knew he was much more than just business at our camp. He was more the heart and soul and lived that each summer I can remember. He once took me to Ticonderoga when my braces broke and then, with the help of Ann and Robin, treated me to a wonderful day out of camp. I was thrilled to be able to see him again during college when coincidentally, I spent a semester at American University and Robin lived in the same dorm. It was a thrill to see Alex again and even though I was in college, that camp feeling never left and it was quite a treat to see him as well as Ann. I will be forever greatful for those seven summers of my life which Alex Landis made possible. Those summers are as ingrained in me as is anything else and part of my life that I have never and will never forget. My thoughts and prayers are with Ann, Robin and Eric.

I was equally saddened to hear about Ken Greenfield. I first met Ken when he and I were in cabin 16A together in the summer of 1966. We were again together in 1968 in Cabin 30. Ken's sense of humor and love of Camp Paradox stand out when I think of him. I can remember one weekend during the winter when we were all in high school when Alan Shier and I spent the weekend at Ken's home in Metuchen. We laughed all weekend long. His love for Paradox resonates through all the postings if one goes back and reads them. Many of you old timers will remember Arnie Greenfield reading the Paradox Credo on one of the winter records. (My fifty two year old memory tells me it was following the summer of 1964) Kenny lived that credo at a child and revered in it as an adult. Look at the impact our camp had on Kenny. If it helped him with any difficult moments during his adult life then the impact that little place had on him was enormous and fantastic. Arnie....my thoughts are with you.

Michael Salnick

I haven't visited the Paradox website in quite a while. I was however in contact with Bill(y) Rice and he sent me the Paradox CD- LOVED it. I read the postings from Kevin Carpenter and all that followed. I must admit that I thought many of the postings were too quick to pass off Larry's sickness as a 'flaw' or some other euphemism. Do any of you fellows have your own kids? What would you do to someone who molested or attacked your own children? There is no doubt Larry was a talented, intelligent and charismatic guy. He could tell a story and make you feel special. He could create a sort of 'stage set' with all the costumes, backgrounds and parts, like a great director. When I attended Paradox in the early 60's I assumed it was at least a thousand years old, because of all the mythologies and traditions Larry had invented and promulgated. He was cool. He was also sick.

Here's my own story: I was a somewhat difficult kid. Always getting into minor trouble with the counselors, not that popular with the other kids and 'marching to a different drummer'. I liked camp, but missed home. Larry befriended me and when he'd sometimes come into our cabin at night to tell us stories (ah those stories!), he'd sometimes lie on my bed. This was a matter of great pride to the boy he'd choose. On one occasion he took me out of camp up the road and bought me an ice cream soda. When we returned to his cabin he invited me to lie on his bed with him. I didn't like it and wouldn't get next to him. He asked me if I was 'uncomfortable' having to lie there with him and I said a very loud 'yes'. And it was over. He never touched me in a sexual way, nor did he force himself on me. Nevertheless, I knew in my 8 year old mind that he had acted inappropriately. No other adults had even taken me to their bedrooms alone and invited me to lie down. It made me feel sort of scared.

I telephoned my father. I remember the phone was near the canteen. When I told him what happened he didn't believe me! I had called so many times and leveled so many complaints at the camp and its counselors, that he thought I was making it up this time. I was the boy who cried 'wolf'. I remember he said words to the effect: "Do you know how much that camp cost? Do you think money grows on trees? Do you realize what sacrifices mommy and I are making to send you there? And THIS is what we get?" . Jewish parents can really levy the guilt. Years later when we heard the truth about Larry's pedophilia, it was my parents' turn to feel guilty. Another camp friend, at this later date, told me he had experienced nearly the exact treatment from Larry. In this case also, no sexual contact was made, but my friend had been very upset.

I am no shrink, and certainly no expert on the meaning, or purpose, of life. I think, looking back on matters, I cannot reach a simple, definitive conclusion. Larry was an amazingly kind and fun man. Larry was also a sick and perverted guy, who prayed on little kids. Neither aspect of his being cancels out, nor entirely explains the other. He was both things and deserves credit and disrepute, accordingly.

I wish I could have met Larry as an adult and talked about his problems. I am willing to bet that he was deeply torn inside. I am willing to bet that he was mostly good and just horribly and uncontrollably flawed and felt like shit about it. Like a Greek tragic hero, his gifts were, in the end, brought down by his weakness. We're all richer and sadder (or ought to be!) for having known him. I'm glad I did. But I am NOT forgetting that many were hurt and I am not willing to gloss this over. To Kevin Carpenter I say: your dad was truly one of a kind. Be proud of what was wonderful about him, and mourn, with the rest of us, what was not. I am so pleased you reached out to the Paradox community. Thank you!

I am so sad to hear that Larry's gone, likewise with Alex. Its funny that few posting talk about Alex. I guess Larry was such a huge and magical character that many of us overlook Alex's stable, steady and kind presence. I remember him wearing one of those Australian outback hats (where the right side of the brim is pinned up). I remember him being affectionate to his lovely wife and daughter (like nice Jewish guys do). I think, for a slightly homesick boy, seeing this kind man and his family every day made camp more homey. Eric was also a good guy, but did occasionally engage in hazing type antics, like locking us in our trunks.

By the way, when I heard "Paradox Moon" on the CD, I literally got tears in my eyes........ Paradox influenced me tremendously. I gained a deep love of wilderness (thanks Rick Schuck!) and ultimately have made my life in Vermont, directly as a result. I have a lovely wife of nearly 20 years, two terrific sons and a lot of dear memories of you all and those special years in that eden on a lake, Paradox. Peace to all and may our memories outlast us.

Michael Wolfinger-Wilner Putney, Vermont

I got a call from Tom Field today. Besides catching up on "this and that" it prompted me to do two things:

1) Send a copy of the Cremation of Sam McGee to Tom for posting. I got it in Dawson City in the Yukon because I always enjoyed Larry performing it.

and 2) checking posts on the site.

Somehow I seem less on top of time in retirement than when I had to check postings in between writing innumerable college recommendations. I didn't even realize how long it has been between "signings on".

I was saddened to see of the death of Ken Greenfield. I enjoyed connecting with him again (both re: PX & Metuchen H.S.) at the reunion. It seemed that happiness eluded him in many parts of his life, but certainly not when sharing stories of his past or his family.

One of the disappointments of having our common (physical) place slowly disappear is that we don't a place to memorialize our lost friends. And yet, we can share here, and remember in our hearts.

Bri

Want to hear the Cremation of Sam McGee again? Click http://www.campparadox.com/px/SamM.mp3 for a rendering that Bri picked up in a recent trip to Alaska.

If the words elude you.... enjoy Alan Shier

The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert W. Service

Robert W. Service, a Canadian poet and novelist, was known for his ballads of the Yukon. He wrote this narrative poem which is presented here because it is an outstanding example of how sensory stimuli are emphasized and it has a surprise ending.

Robert William Service was born in Preston, England, on January 16, 1874. He emigrated to Canada at the age of twenty, in 1894, and settled for a short time on Vancouver Island. He was employed by the Canadian Bank of Commerce in Victoria, B.C., and was later transferred to Whitehorse and then to Dawson in the Yukon. In all, he spent eight years in the Yukon and saw and experienced the difficult times of the miners, trappers, and hunters that he has presented to us in verse.

During the Balkan War of 1912-13, Service was a war correspondent to the Toronto Star. He served this paper in the same capacity during World War I, also serving two years as an ambulance driver in the Canadian Army medical corps. He returned to Victoria for a time during World War II, but later lived in retirement on the French Riviera, where he died on September 14, 1958, in Monte Carlo.

Sam McGee was a real person, a customer at the Bank of Commerce where Service worked. The Alice May was a real boat, the Olive May, a derelict on Lake Laberge.

Anyone who has experienced the bitterness of cold weather and what it can do to a man will empathize with Sam McGee’s feelings as expressed by Robert Service in this poem.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see; It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan: “It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone. Yet ‘taint being dead--it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.” And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see; And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside. I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door. It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm— Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.

For a biography of the novelist Nathanael West (1903-1940)--aka Nathan Weinstein--who attended Paradox from 1917-1920, I'm seeking family photos, mementoes, and stories, perhaps from a relative at camp in those years. The book will be published by Harcourt in 2008. I'd be grateful for any help. Thank you.

Marion Meade Email: mmeade at mindspring dot com

Hey!

Glenn Meltzer told me of this site. I am trying to find out when I was at camp Paradox, Larry Carpenter had a club that Meltzer and I and a buch of other kids went to Larrys and if you could guess a riddle of the Jester, you could join the Jester Club and eat burgers at night when the rest of the camp was asleep.

 

• If any one knows the question and the answer to the riddle and can back to me that would be great!

Thanks

Hey Tom,

Is there any way to let us know who is posting?

The J.O.K.E. club was Jesters of Kibbitzing Echolalia. As I remember, Billy Rice was very good at echolalia. There were membership cards and irregular meetings (with food as all camp gatherings were).

Bri

oops. I forgot to identify the poster of the Jester Club question. The question was directly emailed to me by Rick Stahl. He'll be reading along here, I'm sure.

Tom

Hello to one and all. I just read about the passing of ALex, he had the best camp in the world, didn't he? ANyone who knows the jester riddle please write.

Glad to find this blog

I am 28 years old and spent 3 summers as a teen at what is now called Southwoods on Paradox. My husband and I were just up at a cabin on Paradox and I wanted to say that I love it up there as much as you do. We are now considering buying some property to be able to spend more time up there. I was hoping someone could gove me more info about the grave of the 12 year old on the little island?

there were no graves on Crawford or Birch island while we were there...were there?

Looking on google maps, Southwoods is on the other end of the lake, on the other side of the narrows. I suspect, Julie, that you're referring to a different island than "our" Crawford Island, which was at the other end of the lake from Southwoods. I asked my sister, who went to a summer camp near Southwoods (Woodmere) and she had no further info, either.

The island was the small island, all the way to the left,if you are looking at a map, thru the narrows. Very tiny. In case you can ask around to anyone that may have ventured that far, it was a boy namd Bernd R. M. Herrmann, died August 26th, 1900, born in Paradox August 26th, 1888. The grave was interesting to me since he was my age the first time I was there and we were there on his birthday. I always get chills. We always canoed to the island. Thought maybe someone knew. Keep me posted. Were there cliffs to jump off on crawford island, I remember canoing all the way to what we thought was the end, and finding cliffs to jump.

Neil Neuschatz returns! Hey, Neil. Where you been?

I recieved the email below regarding "Howie Kretz." I have provided him with all the past Paradoxians in case he cares to search them for references.

In the process of doing that, I re-viewed the videos from the Paradox CD. Since some of you may not have recieved the Paradox CD, I've posted them on the Paradox site. You can view them by clicking on this link

Thanks again to Bill R. for compiling the CD.

 

---

I Googled "Howard Kretz" and found this Camp Paradox blog. I'm doing research on a person named Howard Kretz (1876-1942), who is better known as Howard Coluzzi, an artist who lived in Santa Fe, NM, for the last couple decades of his life. The Howard Kretz I'm interested in jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge in 1899 to test his theory of the power of mind over matter. During the period he lived in Santa Fe, he would inform a person that he was holding a party at their house on such and such a day. At these parties he often performed elaborate pantomimes wearing masks that he'd made. He rarely bathed, and died due to a scratch from a cat that became lethally infected. Does this sound like the Howie Kretz you refer to in your blog?

signed,

Bill Butler

Was wondering if anyone knew Peter Swerdlicks info - I live in Calabasas, CA and apparently so does he! I would like to contact him - I also want to see if anyone knows the whereabouts of Scot Davis. I actually went on a youth hosteling trip with him the year after Camp closed and we planned that particular trip to pass by camp so we could see it. Since it was only one year - 1971 - after the end it still was in ready to go condition and I remember thinking how weird it was that no one was there in August.

I haven't checked in here for some time. I am always amazed as I read other's thoughts of camp. I thought that I was the one out. I read Mike Wolfinger's reminisence and, I always thought that he was in the "in group." Shows something. I am not sure what.

Is it it time for another reunion? 2007 anyone?

MarC Stern

Howie Benson: Pete Swerdlick lives in the Los Angeles area and is a practicing Psychiatrist. You might find him that way. Michae Swerdlick, a graduate of Pepperdine University Law School, wrote the Disney Movie "Can't Buy Me Love" a number of years back. I don't know what he has done since but I believe he lives in Hollywood as well. Gotta brag a little: My oldest son (a Penn State Graduate) has been living in Hollywood for a year trying to make it as an actor. Happy to say he was signed by an Agent, has a manager, got his SAG card and had someparts on the now Cancelled Commander in Chief. He did a commercial and was in a piece on the Travel Channel. Tells me it is a tough business...but I am glad he is making some strides, however small......at least one Salnick still has a little Footlighter left in him! Although if it weren't for the little I learned in my short Footlighter Days, it would probably be harder to speak to juries!!!!!!!!!!

I'll be in Lake Placid from 6/25-7/9. Will any of you be in the area?

I'll be in Lake Placid from 6/25-7/9. If anyone else will be in the area please let me know.

Hi, I found my name here so I decided to post this in case anyone wants to contact me. I think it was 1969 when I was Water Ski and Photography counselor at Camp Paradox. Somewhere I still have the photo yearbooks for both camps which I remember taking many of the group photos for. The highlight of my summer was going to the Peter, Paul and Mary concert in Saratoga Springs with a surprise ticket given to me by my cabin. I can be contacted at: drawburl@yahoo.com and I currently live in the south suburbs of Chicago.

Hey Everyone,

 

• It is Scott Rovner checking in after a recent visit to camp this week. Just got back from a week in Northern Vermont visiting friends who live in an elegant restored farmhouse on Lake Champlain. The view from their place looks directly west across the lake at the Adirondacks. I took two days and drove south to Fort Ticonderoga and picked up highway 74 to camp. What is up with renaming the road from 73 to 74? I had read many accounts of people’s visits and saw many posted pics of camp. Nothing prepared me for what I saw, or didn’t. First of all, it was hard to find camp driving from the east. Since there was no Rodgers Hall, no tennis courts, and no Program Office it was a little bizarre. I more or less had to stop frequently and look for any familiar landmarks. I eventually drove in about where the Program Office used to be. There was a road right where the green vermiculite stadium was! I kept looking for what was the sophomore unit imaging some guys playing tetherball, or Jim Anderberg holding court in the campcraft area. Remember how you could hear “Classical Gas”, “Pictures of Matchstick Men”, “Light My Fire”, “In The Year 2525”, or “Yellow Submarine” to name a few booming over WCP? There was no obstacle course, no equipment shed, no yellow submarine. When I walked down to what was the lower ballfield I kept imaging Ranzy Tucker or Richie Goodstein banging them out into the senior unit woods. No Chez, either! It was easy to find the boating area. Looking out at the cliffs across the lake I was blown away by how fresh my memories of camp were. I did see what was left of one bunk in the senior unit. I think it was Bunk 21 sans Cramer, Uniman, Rich Frank, Jim Toub, Mark Margolius,and Bart Brodsky. The bunk looked like it would crumble at any time. Camp as I knew it was gone. I definitely felt pretty much like a spec in time.

 

• It truly was as if someone had hit the delete button and wiped camp off the map! Now it was someone else’s turn to enjoy the place. The only difference between us and the new homeowners up there is that we were perennial visitors and the current homeowners were permanent. I also was struck by the thought that the last time I was at camp (1970) nothing in my adult life had happened yet. Yep, in 1970 I was 14. I had not yet had a high school prom, lost my virginity, done college, grad school, or lived in San Francisco for a bunch of years. It goes on an on….. Christ, in 36 years from now I will be 86. Now there is one uplifting thought! I am sure each of you could relate to this. While some campers may easily think back at camp memories as a, “That was then, and this now” manner, no way do I. The place soared past that. So many people have written about what we had at Paradox during those magical 10 years or so. I must admit since my last time at camp many of my memories ranged from amazing to so-so. As I sat by the swimming area gazing out at Crawford I was blown away by the never ending stream of great memories. Damn, we all were so lucky to have experienced camp for those years. Will I go back? Probably not. I think I am set for the rest of my life.

 

• I do want to mention that on the next day I drove over to the high peaks region and climbed Upper and Lower Wolfjaw. What a total gas! I practically ran up both of them. I live in Golden, Colorado (western most edge of Denver) now and since have recalibrated my yardstick for big mountains. The Daks seemed so tiny to me! I kid you not. I pretty much ran up both mountains. When we were kids the peaks around camp seemed totally formidable, like Everest. By the way, how in the world did Jim Anderberg, a guy from Iowa lead us up all those mountains? Even more amazing was the fact that here is a guy who probably had never seen anything taller than a barn led us up the trail-less peaks! Jim, you still are the man!

 

• So in closing, I want to know who scored all the bunk signs? I cannot imagine 30 different people each got one. Some lucky soul stumbled on the motherload and grabbed them all. To the person I am talking to and you know who you are, I have a request. I owe Howard Benson a couple hundred huge favors. Any chance you could part with one and send it to him? You would be a stud, buddy! His address is: 25455 Prado de las Calabazas
  • Calabasas, CA 91302

I talk to Howard all the time and can assure you he, being totally nostalgic about camp, would hang a bunk sign in his office right next to the dozen or so gold records he has made with his bands. For those of you who do not know Benson is THE guy right now in the music business. Producer extraordinaire. If you do not believe me just borrow your kids latest All-American Rejects CD. It is great.

 

• Okay, enough for now. I am sending this email from my sister’s computer in philly. For anyone wanting to get a hold of me my email is: srovner@jeffco.k12.co.us

Real quickly, I am a psychologist living in the foothills overlooking Denver, Colorado. I hope you all are doing well. Peace for now.

Scott Rovner, over and out.

Scott, My son lives in Burlington and I'm over there pretty much every three weeks. If I had known you were going to be there I'd have arranged to meet up. One of these days we've gotta arrange that!

A famous ADK mountaineer once said: "Those mountains out west aren't mountains - they are raw, rambunctions rockpiles. A mountain isn't a mountain unless the trees go all the way to the top"

The west end of the road that runs through what was the ballfield goes past "Ole Lar's" cabin, which is still there and inhabited. Also the program office is still standing. The Chez is there too, it's been converted into someones home.

I've notice you've never visited the MyFamily site. I've sent you another re-invitation. There is a great collection of photos there.

-jim

My ISP changed their name. My new email is jimanderberg "at" fairpoint.net

Check out this photo I took of the ADK's from Burlington

Click this link

Check out the pix on "My Family"

The Cremation of Sam McGee: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lBkuz1TlVc

Thanks Jim. Happy holidays to all.