10/27/23
Newsletter #498
The Crack of Dawn
I attended Camp Tamakwa for the first time in 1968 when I was nine, going on ten that summer. Because I was put in a cabin with nine-year-olds instead of ten-year-olds, I was pretty pissed off. And since I didn’t like any of my cabinmates, I didn’t have a very good time.
In the summer of 1969, my family took a vacation to California. I was in L.A. when the Manson murders occurred, but I have a solid alibi. I was with my mom and my two sisters seeing Krakatoa East of Java (1969), and Krakatoa was west of Java. At Tamakwa that summer, my buddy Ivan’s counsellor was Chevy Chase. I met him another time.
I went back to Tamakwa in 1970. From the moment I got on the school bus at the old Jewish Center in Detroit, my life changed. All of the cool people, the hippies, who were all counsellors, were seated in the back of the bus in a cloud of cigarette smoke. Many of the male counsellors had extremely long hair. Several folks had guitars and were playing and singing. I sat as close to the back as I could to include myself in the group. Even though I didn’t smoke, I bummed a cigarette and smoked it. And these cool hippies just accepted me as one of their own. That was the moment I began smoking cigarettes, and I haven’t stopped yet.
When we crossed the border into Canada, the customs inspector took one look inside the bus, saw the mini-Woodstock in the back, and just let us go through. As soon as we were back on the road these counsellors all lit up joints. Quickly, the bus was engulfed in pot smoke. Nobody cared. The folks smoking the weed were the ones who were supposed to be in charge. Showing adult responsibility, the counsellors did not smoke dope with the campers. As of that exact moment, I stopped cutting my hair for the next five years.
Unlike two years earlier, my first month at camp was a complete and utter blast and now I wanted to stay the second month. This would entail a discussion with my parents, which was being arranged by the kind folks in the office.
It was Sadie Hawkins Night. I had no idea what that meant, or from where it was derived, I was just told to put a bandana in my back pocket, so it was hanging out. Maybe even someone explained it and I wasn’t listening. In a comic strip that I never liked, Li’l Abner, there’s an ugly girl named Sadie Hawkins who apparently chased after the men. This evening we first were all to meet at the rec hall where there was a social. There seemed to be a country theme to the décor and there were cups of cider. As a note: in 1970 we didn’t use paper cups; we used the camp’s regular cups which were made of turquoise Bakelite, the first plastic. Just as I got a cup of cider there as an announcement over the P.A. system, “Josh Becker, please report to the office.”
I thought, “Great, now what did I do?” I trudged off to the office to find that my parents were on the phone. I explained that I wanted to stay the second month. They were perfectly fine with that, as was the camp, which was at its lowest capacity ever. I think that there were 300 campers, whereas there was usually 600. Well, cool, staying another month. This place was wonderful.
As I stepped out of the office, a girl of my age – let’s call her Dana because that’s not her name – was waiting for me. I didn’t know her, nor had I ever spoken to her, but I had noticed her. Dana was a perfect tomboy, with short reddish blonde hair, and kind of cute, in a tomboyish sort of way, which wasn’t the fashion at that time. She stepped up behind me and took the bandana from my back pocket. She said, “You’re mine.”
I was clueless. I asked, “This has something to do with this Sadie Hawkins Night-thing, right?” She nodded. I asked, “So, now what happens?” Dana said, “You put your arm around me and take me to the social.” That sounded terrific, so that’s what we did. We drank cider from turquoise cups. They were playing country music, so I said, “Do you want to dance?” Dana looked around and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
We went outside the rec hall and there were boys and girls with their arms around each other all over the place. I thought, “This is a great idea.” With our arms around each other, Dana was still looking around for something. She said, “You’re in Ranger 3, that’s at the bottom of the hill, right?” She was referring to the somewhat steep Voyager Hill, where the older, 14-16, Voyager boys’ cabins were located. But us 12-13-year-old boys were Rangers (and below us were the Foresters). Our cabins were located directly off main camp. I pointed and said, “That’s my cabin there.” Dana pulled me along and said, “Let’s go there.”
The next thing I knew we were on my cot kissing like I’d never kissed before. This is sounds like a song title, but I’d kissed a few girls before, but never like this. Dana was voracious. Our hands were all over each other. Well, I was a month short of 12 years old, and she was undoubtedly already 12. She seemed to have a clear idea of what she wanted us to do, which was swell because I didn’t. I was already coming in my jeans; physiological changes were occurring, and my head was spinning. Meanwhile, one or two of my fellow cabinmates came wandering in. There was me and Dana on my cot, all twisted up together, which made me feel proud. But Dana had other things in mind. She asked, “Where can we be alone?”
Once you’ve reached the top of Voyager Hill, there was a precipitous drop down a short cliffside, known as Suicide Hill. At the bottom were two more cabins. In more prosperous summers they would be in use, but now they were closed. The doors were covered with tarpaper. Thankfully it wasn’t quite dark yet, and I led Dana down this steep hillside. We stepped up to the first cabin. Without a second thought I tore off the tar paper and opened the door. I tried the light switch, and the lights came on. Inside the cabin was where they were storing the extra mattresses and there were at least 50 of them. I turned to Dana and said, “Will this do?” She smiled and said yes.
We got naked and we kissed and kissed, and I swear this is true. I had ripped off a condom from my counsellor, and now I pulled it out. Well, it was too much for both of us to figure out. We didn’t know what to do, or how the process worked, or what you did with it. It got dark and scary, and I said, “We’ve got to get up Suicide Hill before it’s dark.” So, we quickly put on our clothes and climbed Suicide Hill. We then made our way down Voyager Hill, just as all of the Voyagers, the older guys, were coming up from the Sadie Hawkins Social. Why on earth would I be coming down this hill with a girl? Girls weren’t allowed in boy’s camp. Everybody thought I’d scored, except that I hadn’t. But it didn’t matter. It was brilliant. A cabin full of mattresses?
Back in main camp we parted without further ado or even a goodbye. I watched her walk off toward girl’s camp, thinking, “What just happened?” I was elated, and my balls hurt. I don’t think I spoke another word to Dana for the rest of the summer.
However, I made sure to look her up when we got home.
For the first time in a week – not that it’s necessarily a good thing – I actually am finishing as dawn arrives.
Good morning.