Fort Scott was loaded with firsts for me
It was the first time I slept in the forest under the stars
It was the first time I rode a horse or even touched one
It was the first time I dove off the high dive into a pool
It was the first time I ever kissed a girl
It was the first time I ever played mud football
It was the first time I was ever away from my parents for more than three days
It was the first time I ever signed a contract
It was the first time I ever got a paycheck
It was the first time I ever kissed a woman on stage (sorry Katie)
It was the first time I ever stayed up all night long just for the fun of it
It was the first time I ever at White Castles and smoked cigars (and thankfully the last)
It was the first time I ever had a crush on a girl so badly that I couldn't sleep
and it was the first time I ever cried because I had to say goodbye to a friend.
Happy Labor Day Weekend
Bob
Friday, August 31, 2007
Another Milestone
Well, we have done it folks. We passed 2000 page loads sometime in the past day or so. I want to thank everyone that has come and shared a memory here.
I still would like to encourage those of you who pass through this "museum" to at least leave a comment with your name on it somewhere. You cannot be a part of a family and remain anonymous. Who knows, someone out there may be looking for you.
Onward to 5000
Bob
I still would like to encourage those of you who pass through this "museum" to at least leave a comment with your name on it somewhere. You cannot be a part of a family and remain anonymous. Who knows, someone out there may be looking for you.
Onward to 5000
Bob
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Serenity
During my time as a counselor at Fort Scott, I think there was only one or two weeks that I did not have a cabin.
Most times, this was not a problem, I enjoyed the kids, and I made it a point to participate in their programs. I didn't do this out of a sense of duty, it was just fun for me, and I connected with the campers better that way. Now and then though everyone, including me needed a break from the mayhem.
Sometimes it was as simple as taking a swim during rest period, or a walk in the woods- just somewhere that was quiet and had a little solitude. With me, I would usually try to find a way to retreat into my music somehow. Maybe it was a quiet hour in my cabin with head phones or just sitting down at Wagner doing cabin assignments and having a radio playing softly nearby.
One of my favorite memories of Serenity amidst the chaos happened when I was an AD. The camp had purchased a really nice PA system and I had taken it upon myself to take care of it. I was setting up for Counsellor Stunt night and most of the boys hill was either playing games, or at Chapel. The bowl of the hill above the boys pool had become an oasis of quiet. I put in a tape of the Soundtrack of the Man from Snowy River, and sat in the middle of the hill, just listening.
It was a nice way to get re focused and back into the swing of things.
How about the rest of you? Got any good stories to share?
Most times, this was not a problem, I enjoyed the kids, and I made it a point to participate in their programs. I didn't do this out of a sense of duty, it was just fun for me, and I connected with the campers better that way. Now and then though everyone, including me needed a break from the mayhem.
Sometimes it was as simple as taking a swim during rest period, or a walk in the woods- just somewhere that was quiet and had a little solitude. With me, I would usually try to find a way to retreat into my music somehow. Maybe it was a quiet hour in my cabin with head phones or just sitting down at Wagner doing cabin assignments and having a radio playing softly nearby.
One of my favorite memories of Serenity amidst the chaos happened when I was an AD. The camp had purchased a really nice PA system and I had taken it upon myself to take care of it. I was setting up for Counsellor Stunt night and most of the boys hill was either playing games, or at Chapel. The bowl of the hill above the boys pool had become an oasis of quiet. I put in a tape of the Soundtrack of the Man from Snowy River, and sat in the middle of the hill, just listening.
It was a nice way to get re focused and back into the swing of things.
How about the rest of you? Got any good stories to share?
Monday, August 27, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Where is this all going?
I have been having an ongoing conversations with Thom in California regarding all things Fort Scoot, and he said something that caught my attention.
".... I hope more old and aging Fort Scotters will discover your excellent blog." When he said that I realized something that I might not have made clear.
This Blog is for everyone that ever walked through the gates of camp, and up that long hill.
In my mind, this is an online museum and I am only the currator. I have been supplying my own memories and thoughts about camp up to this point, but sooner or later, that well is is going to run dry. My fear is that this blog might be perceived as something that is only for my era.
As I told Thom, with each passing year, more and more of the history of our beloved camp is lost. I want to preserve as much as I can for everyone, as soon as I can.
So once again, please pass the word about this site. I really feel like we have barely scratched the surface.
Have a great weekend
Bob
".... I hope more old and aging Fort Scotters will discover your excellent blog." When he said that I realized something that I might not have made clear.
This Blog is for everyone that ever walked through the gates of camp, and up that long hill.
In my mind, this is an online museum and I am only the currator. I have been supplying my own memories and thoughts about camp up to this point, but sooner or later, that well is is going to run dry. My fear is that this blog might be perceived as something that is only for my era.
As I told Thom, with each passing year, more and more of the history of our beloved camp is lost. I want to preserve as much as I can for everyone, as soon as I can.
So once again, please pass the word about this site. I really feel like we have barely scratched the surface.
Have a great weekend
Bob
Friday, August 24, 2007
All I can say is WOW!
Bruce Brownlee sent me copies of his picture collection from Camp. Some of them Ihave seen before, but the ones I am sharing tonight just knocked my socks off.
I can't thank you enough Bruce!!!!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Drama continued
Another Drama activity that gave some unexpected insights into the campers was the improvisational skits. Long before Drew Carey did Who's Line, the campers were doing the very same thing.
The midgies were all pretty predictable where their skits would go. At least with boys, sooner or later it would wind up as some kind of action scene...good guys shooting the bad guys
Juniors did a little better, but usually by the time they would actually get into the skit, someone would cut up somehow and the mood would be broken. It was hard to do any real interaction when somebody was making fart noises with his armpit.
The Seniors, especially when the program was mixed boys and girls, could do some remarkable and emotional things. I am not sure what we would have to do today with some of the things we learned.
Sometimes if you watched carefully you could see that one of the players was really attracted to another, and this was a way to say it, but not say it. Sometimes the topics drifted into painful subjects. Not often, but enough to make an impression. I remember very well an episode where I could swear the girl was trying to tell us that she had been abused. I am fairly certain that she was given some extra attention by her counselors after that.
The best part though, was the realization of how talented our kids were, and how lucky we were to be working with them. Unfortunately, it sometimes took years to realize that.
Bob
The midgies were all pretty predictable where their skits would go. At least with boys, sooner or later it would wind up as some kind of action scene...good guys shooting the bad guys
Juniors did a little better, but usually by the time they would actually get into the skit, someone would cut up somehow and the mood would be broken. It was hard to do any real interaction when somebody was making fart noises with his armpit.
The Seniors, especially when the program was mixed boys and girls, could do some remarkable and emotional things. I am not sure what we would have to do today with some of the things we learned.
Sometimes if you watched carefully you could see that one of the players was really attracted to another, and this was a way to say it, but not say it. Sometimes the topics drifted into painful subjects. Not often, but enough to make an impression. I remember very well an episode where I could swear the girl was trying to tell us that she had been abused. I am fairly certain that she was given some extra attention by her counselors after that.
The best part though, was the realization of how talented our kids were, and how lucky we were to be working with them. Unfortunately, it sometimes took years to realize that.
Bob
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
You liked it or you hated it
Drama was a program that to my knowlege only existed at Fort Scott as a stand alone program for the last two or three years of camp. Two of the principal counselors for this program were Dan Phares and Cath Hellman.
People were of two mindsets about Drama, they either loved it or hated it. The interesting part about it was that you could almost never predict which campers would love the program and which would hate it. Counselors were a bit easier because over time you would get to know their likes and dislikes. I was a person that really liked Drama.
One of the activities that I learned in Drama, that I still use today in certain teaching settings was called Mirrors. When "playing" mirrors, all of the campers would pair up and face each other. One person would be designated as the leader and the other would follow. The leader was allowed to make a gesture, facial expression, or other movement and the follower was to try and mirror the movement. The leader was not allowed to move his feet, and you were not allowed to touch each other. The counselors would try to encourage the campers to use movements that were fluid and broad so that the mirrors could follow the leads.
The fun part came when a counselor would call "Switch". At that point the roles would reverse and the leaders would be mirrors and the mirrors would be the leaders. As the game progressed, the time interval between calling Switch would be shorter and shorter.
Almost every time we had this activity, and interesting thing would happen. It would start out the the normal sillyness that you would expect from teenage boys and girls, but once the game went on, the group would become noticably quieter. Without any instruction, the movements would become more and more fluid, and the concentration levels of the campers would get higher and higher. The longer the game went, the more intensely the kids would be concentrating in each other, and the quieter things would be. It was odd to have 30 kids being almost completely silent standing on the Boys hill in the middle of the day.
After a while the game got very fast, with Switch being called every second or two. Eventually we would end the game, and then ask the campers if they knew who was the leader and who was the mirror when the game ended.
They almost never knew.
At the time I thought that this was just a fun, mind expanding game that gave the kids an idea of how to concentrate even with distractions. However, as I look back, I realize that there was a certain genius to the game. When we work together as a team, and can forget about who is the leader and who is the mirror, we can work with a single mindedness of purpose that is amazing.
Bob
People were of two mindsets about Drama, they either loved it or hated it. The interesting part about it was that you could almost never predict which campers would love the program and which would hate it. Counselors were a bit easier because over time you would get to know their likes and dislikes. I was a person that really liked Drama.
One of the activities that I learned in Drama, that I still use today in certain teaching settings was called Mirrors. When "playing" mirrors, all of the campers would pair up and face each other. One person would be designated as the leader and the other would follow. The leader was allowed to make a gesture, facial expression, or other movement and the follower was to try and mirror the movement. The leader was not allowed to move his feet, and you were not allowed to touch each other. The counselors would try to encourage the campers to use movements that were fluid and broad so that the mirrors could follow the leads.
The fun part came when a counselor would call "Switch". At that point the roles would reverse and the leaders would be mirrors and the mirrors would be the leaders. As the game progressed, the time interval between calling Switch would be shorter and shorter.
Almost every time we had this activity, and interesting thing would happen. It would start out the the normal sillyness that you would expect from teenage boys and girls, but once the game went on, the group would become noticably quieter. Without any instruction, the movements would become more and more fluid, and the concentration levels of the campers would get higher and higher. The longer the game went, the more intensely the kids would be concentrating in each other, and the quieter things would be. It was odd to have 30 kids being almost completely silent standing on the Boys hill in the middle of the day.
After a while the game got very fast, with Switch being called every second or two. Eventually we would end the game, and then ask the campers if they knew who was the leader and who was the mirror when the game ended.
They almost never knew.
At the time I thought that this was just a fun, mind expanding game that gave the kids an idea of how to concentrate even with distractions. However, as I look back, I realize that there was a certain genius to the game. When we work together as a team, and can forget about who is the leader and who is the mirror, we can work with a single mindedness of purpose that is amazing.
Bob
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Seven Words that make no sense together...
These seven words will mean absolutely nothing to you unless you were a Senior Boy camper or Counsellor
Italian Mo Ravish Spaghetti Tree Detroit Mo
But we remember don't we boys?
Bob
Monday, August 20, 2007
and here I was bragging on him....
Ok, Bob, got a story from one of the final nights the summer of 1987.
It was one of the final couple nights that the camp was open, a clear night, thankfully, as rain would have spoiled the whole plan. I was a senior, and had volunteered for cabin watch that night, as all the staff, from both boys’ and girls’ camps were either at a gathering, or in the Chapel, cannot remember which. My shift at the flagpole was from 12:30 to 1 am. At 1, Ben (I don’t remember his last name) and I stealthily made our way along the woodline past the Handicraft and Playhouse buildings, and made our way toward the main road, heading between the pools so as not to be seen.
Heading along, we noticed several staff members making their way back up the road, towards us. So, we spotted the rows of concrete that used to support a water tower and lay down between them, hiding from the unsuspecting staff. If I remember correctly, Mike Strong and you, Bob, were among those to pass not ten feet from us. When the coast was clear, we made our way to the Girls’ senior cabin. Ben was my lookout while I crept to the window to see if any counselors were inside. To my relief, there were none. Heather (don’t remember her last name) and a couple others spotted me and came outside, surprised that we had pulled it off.
I could hardly believe that we weren’t seen, as there were so many that passed us by as we hid between the concrete rows. Not even the headlights of passing cars on us alerted anyone to our presence there.
Ok, here’s a fun one from the final summer the camp was open.
This was one of the days that the senior canoe trip was going on. As I had already been on 2 or 3 already that summer, I chose not to attend this trip. There were a couple other senior guys and a few senior girls who also didn’t go. The senior girls stayed in Wagner Lodge that session. So, I and the other guys who stayed behind decided to raid the girls in dangerous territory.
We started off just nonchalantly making our way down the road, acting normally, keeping a close eye out for any staff members. We made our way past the boys’ mess hall, down the road past the athletic field, and then past the Point of No Return. We had crossed the border into girls’ camp.
We were almost there when we saw a car coming up the road towards us, and not just any car. Mr. Morissey, the boys’ camp director, was at the wheel. He pulls up to us and comes to a stop. “Hey Matt, hey boys! How are you doing?” he asked. “Great, couldn’t be better.” We replied. “Have a good day!” he said to us as he drove off. My heart was beating with such a flurry, as I knew where we were should have meant a ticket home. (Now, Bob, I knew ahead of time that the Kay Morissey was going to be the new Chaplain & her husband would be the boys’ camp director; after all, she was my chorus teacher my freshman year at Alter High School. After she informed me of it, I did even more to get on her good side in preparations.)
We then proceeded unimpeded to the lodge and had a great time tickle-torturing the poor senior girls who were unfortunate to not have gone canoeing.
I will send you more tales of mischief later.
Matt
It was one of the final couple nights that the camp was open, a clear night, thankfully, as rain would have spoiled the whole plan. I was a senior, and had volunteered for cabin watch that night, as all the staff, from both boys’ and girls’ camps were either at a gathering, or in the Chapel, cannot remember which. My shift at the flagpole was from 12:30 to 1 am. At 1, Ben (I don’t remember his last name) and I stealthily made our way along the woodline past the Handicraft and Playhouse buildings, and made our way toward the main road, heading between the pools so as not to be seen.
Heading along, we noticed several staff members making their way back up the road, towards us. So, we spotted the rows of concrete that used to support a water tower and lay down between them, hiding from the unsuspecting staff. If I remember correctly, Mike Strong and you, Bob, were among those to pass not ten feet from us. When the coast was clear, we made our way to the Girls’ senior cabin. Ben was my lookout while I crept to the window to see if any counselors were inside. To my relief, there were none. Heather (don’t remember her last name) and a couple others spotted me and came outside, surprised that we had pulled it off.
I could hardly believe that we weren’t seen, as there were so many that passed us by as we hid between the concrete rows. Not even the headlights of passing cars on us alerted anyone to our presence there.
Ok, here’s a fun one from the final summer the camp was open.
This was one of the days that the senior canoe trip was going on. As I had already been on 2 or 3 already that summer, I chose not to attend this trip. There were a couple other senior guys and a few senior girls who also didn’t go. The senior girls stayed in Wagner Lodge that session. So, I and the other guys who stayed behind decided to raid the girls in dangerous territory.
We started off just nonchalantly making our way down the road, acting normally, keeping a close eye out for any staff members. We made our way past the boys’ mess hall, down the road past the athletic field, and then past the Point of No Return. We had crossed the border into girls’ camp.
We were almost there when we saw a car coming up the road towards us, and not just any car. Mr. Morissey, the boys’ camp director, was at the wheel. He pulls up to us and comes to a stop. “Hey Matt, hey boys! How are you doing?” he asked. “Great, couldn’t be better.” We replied. “Have a good day!” he said to us as he drove off. My heart was beating with such a flurry, as I knew where we were should have meant a ticket home. (Now, Bob, I knew ahead of time that the Kay Morissey was going to be the new Chaplain & her husband would be the boys’ camp director; after all, she was my chorus teacher my freshman year at Alter High School. After she informed me of it, I did even more to get on her good side in preparations.)
We then proceeded unimpeded to the lodge and had a great time tickle-torturing the poor senior girls who were unfortunate to not have gone canoeing.
I will send you more tales of mischief later.
Matt
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Raising the bar
I received a great E mail the other day from Thom in California. He was responding to the post I put up about the raids and the senior boys wildness that followed. As it turns out, modern day pranks were a bit tame compared to those from "back in the day".
Thom described one prank that occured during lunch. A crew of four maintenence counsellors, apparently led by an esteemed former camp director snuck down to the Girls Shack and applied a coat of fresh paint to all of the toilet seats. I am presuming they were wooden seats at the time. This prank occured not long after the same seats had been wrapped with Saran Wrap. Thom explained that the counselors were infuriated. I would say that they were tired of being the butt of so many pranks (sorry, I just couldn't stop myself)
Another spectacular prank that he related was the theft of the girl counselors undergarments. They were found later in the mess hall freezer. He did not say whether or not they had been soaked and frozen into a cube....now that would have been cold! (oops, I did it again)
Perhaps the master touch was the story of how an enterprising counselor took a tape recorder and bugged the womens restroom that the girl counselors used at Pex. I can just imagine when they had the closing camp party and that tape was played back.
Now those were the days.
Bob
Thom described one prank that occured during lunch. A crew of four maintenence counsellors, apparently led by an esteemed former camp director snuck down to the Girls Shack and applied a coat of fresh paint to all of the toilet seats. I am presuming they were wooden seats at the time. This prank occured not long after the same seats had been wrapped with Saran Wrap. Thom explained that the counselors were infuriated. I would say that they were tired of being the butt of so many pranks (sorry, I just couldn't stop myself)
Another spectacular prank that he related was the theft of the girl counselors undergarments. They were found later in the mess hall freezer. He did not say whether or not they had been soaked and frozen into a cube....now that would have been cold! (oops, I did it again)
Perhaps the master touch was the story of how an enterprising counselor took a tape recorder and bugged the womens restroom that the girl counselors used at Pex. I can just imagine when they had the closing camp party and that tape was played back.
Now those were the days.
Bob
Friday, August 17, 2007
As a camper I only participated in one camp Raid. I was never able to guess the right period to attend camp. However for whatever reason I was in camp for three of the Girls Camp raids. Just lucky, I guess. The one raid that I remember the best though is the one that happened the night before an all camp switch- the girl’s counselors came to the Boy’s Camp and vice versa. I don’t know who was in charge of scheduling this, but as far as the senior boys were concerned, it was “getting even” time. I suppose we really did try to be gentlemanly at first, but we got off to a bad start by refusing to use utensils at breakfast.
It only got worse after that. I remember that one of the morning programs was swimming. Naturally the girl’s counselors who were sentenced to spend the day with us had to wait outside the cabin while we changed. What they did not expect was for several of the more adventurous boys to take the opportunity to go streaking around the outside of the cabin, literally.
I am sure that their clothes dried out during the next week or so of camp, but the poor girls definitely spent more time in the pool than out of it during swim program.
Somehow they managed to regain control, at least for a little while heading into lunch. I am guessing that they threatened to cancel a dance or something, but that didn’t seem to deter us much.
Rest period that day on the hill and in the senior cabins could only be described as mayhem. The girls had made their own little Raid flag, and run it up the flagpole. Naturally, that was the first thing to come down. We wore it as armbands, or headbands, or whatever sized strips we could tear it into. Then we found the dirtiest pair of underwear we could, and ran that up the flagpole, daring the girls to take it down.
The afternoon program pretty well degenerated into chaos. I sometime during the afternoon we had sports, and the girls decided to try and civilize us with tennis lessons. Can you imagine 30 rowdy senior boys on an asphalt court with tennis balls and rackets, and something to prove?
A new game was invented that day called War Tennis, based naturally on Warball. By that time, the girls could do nothing but stay on the sidelines and hope we didn’t kill each other. Our rebellion pretty much came to a halt when one of the girls had the nerve to try and stop the War tennis game. She was stuffed into the racket bag and taken to the Boy’s lodge to be mailed to Australia.
Mark Maxwell took a pretty dim view of the whole idea, and put a stop to the whole thing by bringing our counselors back from the Girls Camp.
I wish that I had the comedic writing ability to relate just how funny all of this actually was, but I guess you had to be there. However, rest assured that everything that I have said is true.
Have a great weekend
Bob
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
the continuing Saga
Matt was one of those campers that had been around Fort Scott for so long, and was such a good kid, that everyone knew him. In a lot of cases, he knew the programs better than some of the new counselors. I had the pleasure of knowing Matt when I was a counselor and also as an Administrator.
What is really neat is to hear back from him after so long. One of the things that I wish I had been better at as a counselor was getting to know the kids on an individual basis; where did they go to school, what did they want to be when they grew up, how many brothers and sisters, what did their parents do for a living, etc. I have always wondered how things turned out for “my kids.”
Some of them, I had legitimate reason to worry, others I knew were going to be successful no matter what they chose to do. From reading Matt’s letter, I know that he fit into the latter category.
So let’s hear from some other former campers. Those of us who were on staff would love to know where life took you after Fort Scott.
Bob
What is really neat is to hear back from him after so long. One of the things that I wish I had been better at as a counselor was getting to know the kids on an individual basis; where did they go to school, what did they want to be when they grew up, how many brothers and sisters, what did their parents do for a living, etc. I have always wondered how things turned out for “my kids.”
Some of them, I had legitimate reason to worry, others I knew were going to be successful no matter what they chose to do. From reading Matt’s letter, I know that he fit into the latter category.
So let’s hear from some other former campers. Those of us who were on staff would love to know where life took you after Fort Scott.
Bob
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Now THAT's What I am talking about
Monday, August 13, 2007
FSF (Fort Scott Family) Profile: Matt Giffen
Name: Matt Giffen
Years At Ft Scott: 1982-88 all as camper
Years as Camper: 7
Current Occupation: Adobe Software Sales
Current City of Residence: Portland, OR
Family: Single, but engaged
What have you been doing since camp? Graduated High School
Spent 2 years at college
Graduated from massage school in New Mexico
Lived 12 years in Las Vegas
Been in Oregon since Nov 2006
Which Fort Scott Family member(s) that you haven't seen in a long time would you like to see again?All of them (even including you, Bob, as well as Tom Fairbanks, John Lynch, John Farmer, Scott Brauch, Tom Beiting, and others)
If camp were open again for just one day, what would you like to do?Extract honey from the beehive, do another airband contest, raid the Canteen
Years At Ft Scott: 1982-88 all as camper
Years as Camper: 7
Current Occupation: Adobe Software Sales
Current City of Residence: Portland, OR
Family: Single, but engaged
What have you been doing since camp? Graduated High School
Spent 2 years at college
Graduated from massage school in New Mexico
Lived 12 years in Las Vegas
Been in Oregon since Nov 2006
Which Fort Scott Family member(s) that you haven't seen in a long time would you like to see again?All of them (even including you, Bob, as well as Tom Fairbanks, John Lynch, John Farmer, Scott Brauch, Tom Beiting, and others)
If camp were open again for just one day, what would you like to do?Extract honey from the beehive, do another airband contest, raid the Canteen
Friday, August 10, 2007
Letters, Oh We Get Letters!
I received a delightful letter today. Naturally I am going to share it with all of you.
I was a Fort Scott legacy...my dad attended FS from 1948-1953. And so, at the ripe age of 7, I attended my first 2-week session of FSC...and my life has never been the same since! My brothers Todd and Jeff and I all attended every summer – always for the “Variety Show” session (end of July til early August) –until we were too old to go to camp anymore. And each of us was heartbroken when we turned 15, knowing we could no longer meet up with all the friends we’d made over the years.
Believe it or not, I now live less than 5 miles from camp...whoddu thunk? I have yet to muster the gumption to drive by the “remains” of FSC, knowing that it’s now a community of homes. I juts don’t think my heart could take it! Hardly a week goes by each summer that I am not transported back those hallowed grounds...so many memories, such good friends, lots of life lessons learned. How can it no longer exist? How is it that I won’t be able to send my daughters to Fort Scott? That is the reality...and yet, I prefer to look at old pictures, and allow thoughts of those wonderful summers to creep in whenever the spirit moves me.
Here are just some of my favorite memories of people, places, and things...maybe some of these will bring smiles to your faces, as well.
*Girls’ camp counselors and directors Miss Wanstrath (first taught me to ride), Miss Wiwi, Miss Gruber, Miss Wolfe, Miss Enright, Miss Bonekamp, and of course, Sister Mary Morley (do you think she still has that whistle around her neck?)
*Boys’ counselors Tom Murphy (whose siblings Maureen, Todd and Molly were campers); Steve Kunkemoeller (younger bro Danny was camper too.)
*Remember the smell and the creaks of the floor of the girls’ lodge? The dances held there, and the dance *practices* for the variety show? How unbelievable hot it would get in there. And we simply didn’t care.
*The wonderful masses at the chapel? Those of us who helped plan the liturgies and participated (vocals and guitar) loved every minute of it.
*How much did we love our canteen cards? FunDip, Twizzlers, and frozen candy bars?! Remember walking into the mess hall in the mornings with the scent of bacon wafting thru...and at dinnertime, the fresh green beans that I’m certain had boiled all day long...
*Remember having to know the difference between sassafras, oak, and elm leaves?
*The 4 am. raids with water balloons on the boys camp? Well planned and always well executed!
*Why did our moms feel the need to send us to camp with numerous cans of bug spray? We obviously didn’t care to use it...that’s why we looked like infected lepers by the time we went home. The combination of mosquito bites and poison ivy was quite a sight. Again, we simply didn’t care. We had way too much fun to notice (except, that is, for the summer I wound up with large spider bites all over my legs. I was on Senior Hill by then, and was very conscious of how the cutest members of the boys camp might react!)
That’s all for now...I will check in soon with some other memories...
FORT SCOTT ROCKS!
Beth (Brinker) Landfried
Email bethland@fuse.net
I was a Fort Scott legacy...my dad attended FS from 1948-1953. And so, at the ripe age of 7, I attended my first 2-week session of FSC...and my life has never been the same since! My brothers Todd and Jeff and I all attended every summer – always for the “Variety Show” session (end of July til early August) –until we were too old to go to camp anymore. And each of us was heartbroken when we turned 15, knowing we could no longer meet up with all the friends we’d made over the years.
Believe it or not, I now live less than 5 miles from camp...whoddu thunk? I have yet to muster the gumption to drive by the “remains” of FSC, knowing that it’s now a community of homes. I juts don’t think my heart could take it! Hardly a week goes by each summer that I am not transported back those hallowed grounds...so many memories, such good friends, lots of life lessons learned. How can it no longer exist? How is it that I won’t be able to send my daughters to Fort Scott? That is the reality...and yet, I prefer to look at old pictures, and allow thoughts of those wonderful summers to creep in whenever the spirit moves me.
Here are just some of my favorite memories of people, places, and things...maybe some of these will bring smiles to your faces, as well.
*Girls’ camp counselors and directors Miss Wanstrath (first taught me to ride), Miss Wiwi, Miss Gruber, Miss Wolfe, Miss Enright, Miss Bonekamp, and of course, Sister Mary Morley (do you think she still has that whistle around her neck?)
*Boys’ counselors Tom Murphy (whose siblings Maureen, Todd and Molly were campers); Steve Kunkemoeller (younger bro Danny was camper too.)
*Remember the smell and the creaks of the floor of the girls’ lodge? The dances held there, and the dance *practices* for the variety show? How unbelievable hot it would get in there. And we simply didn’t care.
*The wonderful masses at the chapel? Those of us who helped plan the liturgies and participated (vocals and guitar) loved every minute of it.
*How much did we love our canteen cards? FunDip, Twizzlers, and frozen candy bars?! Remember walking into the mess hall in the mornings with the scent of bacon wafting thru...and at dinnertime, the fresh green beans that I’m certain had boiled all day long...
*Remember having to know the difference between sassafras, oak, and elm leaves?
*The 4 am. raids with water balloons on the boys camp? Well planned and always well executed!
*Why did our moms feel the need to send us to camp with numerous cans of bug spray? We obviously didn’t care to use it...that’s why we looked like infected lepers by the time we went home. The combination of mosquito bites and poison ivy was quite a sight. Again, we simply didn’t care. We had way too much fun to notice (except, that is, for the summer I wound up with large spider bites all over my legs. I was on Senior Hill by then, and was very conscious of how the cutest members of the boys camp might react!)
That’s all for now...I will check in soon with some other memories...
FORT SCOTT ROCKS!
Beth (Brinker) Landfried
Email bethland@fuse.net
If camp were around today
I have received several letters from Fort Scott Family members from the era prior to mine which has really piqued my curiosity. What did camp look like in the 50’s? What was the relationship like between the campers and the counselors? What was the relationship like between the counselors?
But also, I wonder what camp would look like today.
In today’s world of hyper clean super sanitary, could there be an 8-1/2 or a bug house?
Would we have to insist that people leave their Ipods, laptops and cell phones home, or would all the cabins have to be WiFi hot spots?
Would we be able to have an Indian Pageant?
Would we be able to keep score at the Middle Saturday Swim meet?
War Night was already on the way out, but would we be able to play War ball without getting an insurance waiver?
One of the last years we had at camp, we elected the Mayor of New Baltimore and had a parade and speeches. Would the Fairness Doctrine be invoked?
What about Christmas in July?
What about flag raising?
One match fires?
Sugar highs from Canteen?
Truly scary ghost stories?
Mud Hikes?
I say it was a better time then, and we would do well to go back to that way of thinking.
Happy Weekend
But also, I wonder what camp would look like today.
In today’s world of hyper clean super sanitary, could there be an 8-1/2 or a bug house?
Would we have to insist that people leave their Ipods, laptops and cell phones home, or would all the cabins have to be WiFi hot spots?
Would we be able to have an Indian Pageant?
Would we be able to keep score at the Middle Saturday Swim meet?
War Night was already on the way out, but would we be able to play War ball without getting an insurance waiver?
One of the last years we had at camp, we elected the Mayor of New Baltimore and had a parade and speeches. Would the Fairness Doctrine be invoked?
What about Christmas in July?
What about flag raising?
One match fires?
Sugar highs from Canteen?
Truly scary ghost stories?
Mud Hikes?
I say it was a better time then, and we would do well to go back to that way of thinking.
Happy Weekend
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
So good it has to be bad for you
After a week of mess hall food, take out pizza was manna from heaven. Who wants a slice of Trotta's?
Click the menu to enlarge it.
You can visit their website and take some home tonight.
http://trottaspizza.com/
Happy Eating
Bob
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
...and to have everyone in our Fort Scott Family...
Legacy
I was thinking today about how Fort Scott was not only a family place, but families came and worked there, and some marriages got their start there as well. It would be interesting to find out how the percentages of families working at say Proctor and Gamble, would have compared to the families that came through Fort Scott. I have no doubt that the Fort Scott Families had a far greater positive impact on the campers, staff and parents than you could find anywhere else.
I don’t know of very many marriages, but let me list them and maybe all of you can help fill in the blanks:
1. Tim and Ellen (Hilliard ) Buell ( I miss you old buddy)
2. John and Carolyn (Schmidt) Farmer
3. Mike and Heidi (Theobald) Strong
4. Terry and Pam (Gray) Fazenbaker
5. Mark and JoAnne (Wolf?) Maxwell
I know there are dozens more, they just don’t come to mind right now.
Here is a list of all the families I can remember, and I definitely need help with the names:
1. Mark Maxwell, JoAnne Maxwell, Lynn Wolf
2. Tom, MaryAnne, and Laura Beiting
3. Steve, Ted, Carol, and Sue Leonard
4. Bernard, Steve, and Kathy Sinchek
5. Doc Schroeder and his nephew….?
6. Katie, Steve, and Sandy Ratterman
7. Rose, Stephanie, and Jessica Vesper
8. Eric and Evan Frayer
9. Mike and Jeff Kirschner
10. Sarah Oswald, and her brother….
11. Ed Shannon and his family
12. John, Richard and George Stenger
13. Terry and Mark Fazenbaker
14. Megan and Ian Jones
15. Missy and Trip Edwards
16. Bill, Kay, and Karen Morrisey
17. Pat, Ed and Tom Fairbanks
*****Note: if anyone does not want their name to appear on this blog, please contact me and I will remove it immediately******
I was thinking today about how Fort Scott was not only a family place, but families came and worked there, and some marriages got their start there as well. It would be interesting to find out how the percentages of families working at say Proctor and Gamble, would have compared to the families that came through Fort Scott. I have no doubt that the Fort Scott Families had a far greater positive impact on the campers, staff and parents than you could find anywhere else.
I don’t know of very many marriages, but let me list them and maybe all of you can help fill in the blanks:
1. Tim and Ellen (Hilliard ) Buell ( I miss you old buddy)
2. John and Carolyn (Schmidt) Farmer
3. Mike and Heidi (Theobald) Strong
4. Terry and Pam (Gray) Fazenbaker
5. Mark and JoAnne (Wolf?) Maxwell
I know there are dozens more, they just don’t come to mind right now.
Here is a list of all the families I can remember, and I definitely need help with the names:
1. Mark Maxwell, JoAnne Maxwell, Lynn Wolf
2. Tom, MaryAnne, and Laura Beiting
3. Steve, Ted, Carol, and Sue Leonard
4. Bernard, Steve, and Kathy Sinchek
5. Doc Schroeder and his nephew….?
6. Katie, Steve, and Sandy Ratterman
7. Rose, Stephanie, and Jessica Vesper
8. Eric and Evan Frayer
9. Mike and Jeff Kirschner
10. Sarah Oswald, and her brother….
11. Ed Shannon and his family
12. John, Richard and George Stenger
13. Terry and Mark Fazenbaker
14. Megan and Ian Jones
15. Missy and Trip Edwards
16. Bill, Kay, and Karen Morrisey
17. Pat, Ed and Tom Fairbanks
*****Note: if anyone does not want their name to appear on this blog, please contact me and I will remove it immediately******
1st Milestone
Milestone
We passed the 1000 page load mark yesterday. I wish I had a way to tell which person was our lucky #1000, but I will just say thanks to everyone who has stopped by so far.
As I said in my letter to Don Koehler, a conservative estimate would be that there are 40,000 people out there who have been touched by Fort Scott. Hopefully most of them have fond memories of our beloved camp. I would be nice to hear from many more of them. Please spread the word.
Bob
We passed the 1000 page load mark yesterday. I wish I had a way to tell which person was our lucky #1000, but I will just say thanks to everyone who has stopped by so far.
As I said in my letter to Don Koehler, a conservative estimate would be that there are 40,000 people out there who have been touched by Fort Scott. Hopefully most of them have fond memories of our beloved camp. I would be nice to hear from many more of them. Please spread the word.
Bob
Monday, August 6, 2007
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Warning: This Entry is a Rant
I drove by camp yesterday. In retrospect, I wish that I had not. I have been avoiding going by since I knew that they were going to develop the property into a subdivision.
It’s not like I was going to get overly emotional when I saw what was happening. Camp is gone, we all know that. But I regret what it has become.
I used to brag that I could find my way around the property blindfolded. Yesterday, I was not sure that I could even place where the Gatehouse had stood.
The corral is gone, and so is the forest that had been planted near it.
We all saw the pictures from Joe Wessel’s Blog showing the local fire department burning down the Girls Lodge.
The pond that the previous owner had built is gone, and the front hill has been re graded.
All that we knew and loved has been removed.
The sad irony of it all is that the developer chose to keep the name Fort Scott.
The grounds are nothing but a bunch of mid price houses and cul-de-sacs now. I always flinch when a developer announces a new subdivision and they call it something like “The Oaks” or “Settler’s Walk” or “Deer Creek”, and brag about the natural setting and walking trails. What is natural about asphalt and manicured lawns? The only way a deer would be seen there was if it got lost.
I did not drive down the streets.
I think I would have been sickened to see Schroeder Way, or Pottenger’s Lane.
If there is one bright spot in all of this, it has strengthened my resolve to preserve what is left. And I will confess that I don’t do this for my kids, or for posterity, or even for you, the person that might be reading this rant right now. I do this for me.
Fort Scott was sacred a sacred place for me. Some of my happiest memories of my youth originate at Fort Scott. I never had a job where I made less money, but that brought more joy and happiness into my life.
Long Live Fort Scott
Bob
It’s not like I was going to get overly emotional when I saw what was happening. Camp is gone, we all know that. But I regret what it has become.
I used to brag that I could find my way around the property blindfolded. Yesterday, I was not sure that I could even place where the Gatehouse had stood.
The corral is gone, and so is the forest that had been planted near it.
We all saw the pictures from Joe Wessel’s Blog showing the local fire department burning down the Girls Lodge.
The pond that the previous owner had built is gone, and the front hill has been re graded.
All that we knew and loved has been removed.
The sad irony of it all is that the developer chose to keep the name Fort Scott.
The grounds are nothing but a bunch of mid price houses and cul-de-sacs now. I always flinch when a developer announces a new subdivision and they call it something like “The Oaks” or “Settler’s Walk” or “Deer Creek”, and brag about the natural setting and walking trails. What is natural about asphalt and manicured lawns? The only way a deer would be seen there was if it got lost.
I did not drive down the streets.
I think I would have been sickened to see Schroeder Way, or Pottenger’s Lane.
If there is one bright spot in all of this, it has strengthened my resolve to preserve what is left. And I will confess that I don’t do this for my kids, or for posterity, or even for you, the person that might be reading this rant right now. I do this for me.
Fort Scott was sacred a sacred place for me. Some of my happiest memories of my youth originate at Fort Scott. I never had a job where I made less money, but that brought more joy and happiness into my life.
Long Live Fort Scott
Bob
Friday, August 3, 2007
I probably shot down a thousand airplanes that day.
I crawled through mud, and dirt, and straw, and of course horse manure. I rode a broom everywhere I went, and had to know the correct knots to tie my "horse" to a railing or tree or something when we went in to eat.
We had to have demonstrated our ability to ride, or at least not fall off or panic when the horse decided to be contrary.
We helped saddle. We helped feed and clean the stalls. We helped the counselors with program. We worked our butts off.
Finally, on awards night, we got called down to the pool apron and received our patch and got to sing the Cavalier Anthem.
As a camper, this was one of the best nights of my life.
I wish I could find that patch.
Blood on the saddle
Blood on the ground
Great big puddles of blood all around
Pity the cowboy
Bloody and Red
the old cow pony
done stomped on his head.
Did they do this in the girls camp?
Have a great weekend
Bob
Thursday, August 2, 2007
We called it Warball
All you needed was an asphalt tennis court, about 40 teen aged boys, a dozen or so half inflated volleyballs, and a ton of testosterone.
Add to that some counselors that had a warped sense of humor, and the game became a game of shirts and skins.
Add to that a lot of sunshine, and suddenly, both teams were laying on their backs, on the hot asphalt, behind the baseline, waiting for the counselors to count off "1-2-3 Warball"!
To my knowledge, noboday ever got seriously injured playing,maybe a skinned knee, or a little overheated. There was that one time that the kid wasn't looking and stepped right in front of a ball and literally got knocked out, but we dont count that really. Do we?
The bottom line is that WE LOVED THIS GAME, to the point of taking parts in tournements in the evenings, and playing it again on open program Saturdays.
Who thinks we could play this game today?
Add to that some counselors that had a warped sense of humor, and the game became a game of shirts and skins.
Add to that a lot of sunshine, and suddenly, both teams were laying on their backs, on the hot asphalt, behind the baseline, waiting for the counselors to count off "1-2-3 Warball"!
To my knowledge, noboday ever got seriously injured playing,maybe a skinned knee, or a little overheated. There was that one time that the kid wasn't looking and stepped right in front of a ball and literally got knocked out, but we dont count that really. Do we?
The bottom line is that WE LOVED THIS GAME, to the point of taking parts in tournements in the evenings, and playing it again on open program Saturdays.
Who thinks we could play this game today?
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Words to live by
Someone took the time to paint this work on the wall underneath the Boy's Shack in the place affectionately known as PEX. This was some heavy reading for a 17 year old the first time I saw it. I think I may have read it 100 times during my tenure as a staff member.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,in the noisy confusion of life
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,it is still a beautiful world.Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,in the noisy confusion of life
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,it is still a beautiful world.Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
[Karaoke] Barry Manilow - Copacabana
This might have been brainwashing, but one of my first memories as a camper was of someone playing the same song on the PA over and Over and OVER!
I won't give any names, but his initials were Pat Fairbanks....
This is for you Pat. Sing it for us.
Bob
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