Beth's comments for whatever reason made me think of this part of Field of Dreams. I had always said that if I were ever to hit the Lotto, I would reconsruct camp. Imagine with me that you had one more chance to walk through camp as it was, on the last day that it was open. Campers were gone and we had cleaned up. It was ready for another group of kids. Indulge me with this for a minute....
Bob, people will come Bob. They'll come to New Baltimore for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. They'll pass the time without even thinking about it: for it is time they have and peace they lack.
And they'll walk out to the cabins; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere in one of the messhalls, where they sat when they were children and sang camp songs. And they'll watch the campfires and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Bob. The one constant through all the years, Bob, has been Fort Scott. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But Fort Scott has marked the time. This camp, these people: it's a part of our past, Bob. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Bob. People will most definitely come.
This is one of my fondest dreams.
Bob
Bob, people will come Bob. They'll come to New Baltimore for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. They'll pass the time without even thinking about it: for it is time they have and peace they lack.
And they'll walk out to the cabins; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere in one of the messhalls, where they sat when they were children and sang camp songs. And they'll watch the campfires and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Bob. The one constant through all the years, Bob, has been Fort Scott. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But Fort Scott has marked the time. This camp, these people: it's a part of our past, Bob. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Bob. People will most definitely come.
This is one of my fondest dreams.
Bob
5 comments:
You made me cry!
S.
Well heck - me too! You've succeeded in making me weep for yesteryear once more. As I said on a previous post -
the sights, the smells, and the sounds are all still right there within reach. If only...
Well- if you build it, we WILL come! :)
I would come...heck I was THERE the final day it was open...lol. (sigh)...I sure do miss the place.
Matt
WOW! That brought a tear to my eye!!!!!
Katie Grady-McCrady
Well shoot, this blog was not supposed to make you cry! But I guess its good to know that I am reaching you.
Hey, please vote on the reuinion idea. To do it right we are gonna need a lot of time and some help.
Bob
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