Blast from the Past

My friend Barney Krucoff knocked me back into the past a bit this weekend when he e-mailed me a link to a photo of the two of us back in the mid 1970s. This is from a reunion site for Camp Waredaca, where I was a camper from about the age of 8 through 14, which is I think the age I am here. I'm guessing this is from the summer of 1976.

That's me on the far left, with Barney in the middle. On the far right is Mark Binder, now a writer and storyteller in Rhode Island. I remember Mark more as a friend from high school than as a summer camp friend. We're still connected via Facebook and got together for Dogfish beers this summer in Rehoboth.

Barney Krucoff is now the GIS Coordinator for the District of Columbia. He is a member of the Board of Directors of the National States Geographic Information Council (NSGIC) which is where we got to know each other as adults. We'd already made the Waredaca connection. He tells me that one of his kids found this while Googling the family name.

The Waredaca reunion site led me to a Shutterfly set of Waredaca pictures in which I spent at least an hour this morning, wading through the past.

There were no other pictures of me, but there were shots of kids I half-remember from my childhood. There was the pond we swam in, the cabins and tents we lived in, and the morning flag-raising ceremony that started the camp day.

I spotted guys I vaguely remembered hanging out with, and girls on whom I'm certain I had crushes.

And that one cowboy-ish counselor who used to always say, "We've got it to do, so let's do it, to it."

Blast from The Past: Lunar Landing Edition

It was 40 years ago today that Apollo 11 lifted off to begin the mission that would put the first humans on the Moon. Today began a week-long celebration, of sorts, that has at least two newspapers here in Delaware asking for reminisces from readers about the Moon Landing.

And NASA has released newly restored footage of the first moonwalk. That restored material is included in the video below.


I found this, by the way, as part of an interesting report on the release on the NY Times blog The Lede.

I was seven years old in July of 1969 and my memory of the Moon Landing has me, for some reason, in a classroom at Woodacres Elementary School, in Bethesda, Maryland. I would have been a first or second-grade student that year, but I would think that school would be out in July.

Perhaps it was a summer school session; I have a memory of one summer when I was quite small when we did some sort of summer school, or perhaps a summer program at the school. I remember brown-bag packed lunches eaten under a tree outside.

If it was in Woodacres Elementary that I watched the Moon Landing, then I think it was the case that I was suffering from a scratched cornea that day and was shortly taken off to the eye-doctor, who applied a temporary eye-patch.

I had been struck in the eye by a thorn-bush branch that whipped back into place as we walked through the woods near our home. There would probably have been a line of us -- I was one of seven kids -- and I think whoever was ahead of me brushed past that branch causing it to spring back at little me.

I think I remember not being able to see what the hell Niel Armstrong was doing when I watched the Moon Landing. In fact, looking back at even restored footage, I'm amazed at what we were impressed with on our television screens back then.

Anyway, that's what I think is my memory of the Apollo 11 mission. I hope my Mother and Father can correct or corroborate my recollection. I have found lately that my memories of childhood are at least partly productions of my imagination.

What happened 40 years ago, in my memory, is recreated from the scraps that remain in memory from the little I saw and heard from down below the big people. The right side of my brain is playing with those scraps and creating new dramas, comedies, and mockumentories for me.

Help Wanted: Perfect Parent

There's a classified ad in our local paper this week-end from a family from the city that is planning to summer here at the beach. They are looking for someone to help with their kids. The ad reads, in part:

...a reliable, ENERGETIC, patient, yet firm, individual to help with caring for/nurturing a 4 year old boy and 6 year old girl, as well as light housekeeping items (laundry, meals and kitchen).

...to help with sports activities (swimming, running, playing ball, bikes, etc) outings to the park and beach, on our boat.

We also would like our children to have reading, math and other "lessons" over the summer. The ability to teach a musical instrument ... is a plus!

Apparently, Maria Von Trapp, Mary Poppins, and Nanny McPhee were already booked up.

Prom Time

Sussex Tech held their prom last night at the new clubhouse at Heritage Shores Golf Club, in Bridgeville. Colleen attended with her young man. She in a lovely chocolate gown and he in a white tux.

We went along to watch the "grand parade" that starts the event; couples and groups of friends descending a palatial staircase and making a short circuit around a walkway in front of parents and grandparents and dozens of cameras.

I spent my time trying to get good photos of Colleen's circle of friends, the children of our friends (often the same, of course), and a general sense of the moment. I hope the picture at right will give you an idea. This (I hope) anonymous young couple posing after the parade for moms and dads, in front of a putting green and the carts of a few late golfers, are representative of a large crown of high school kids who, in the words of one mom, "clean up real nice."

From a parental perspective, it is astounding the amount of work that goes into a prom. For the girls there are huge decisions: gown, shoes, hair, nails, make-up, jewelry, and such. The guys have easier decisions but tend to be less prepared to wear their finery. And those rental tuxes look hot and uncomfortable. Then there are protocols to observe; to her house for photos and then to his for photos. When will you fit-in dinner?

In the end, though, the prom is meant to be fun. I will guess that it was, but direct evidence will have to wait. My young prom-goer is still asleep.

Down Memory Lane

Good heavens! I'm not that old. No, this photograph, from 1928, has sparked memories for me from the early 1970s (Okay, I'm a bit old).

The old-photo blog Shorpy (a personal favorite) has a few photos up today from the 1920's in Glen Echo amusement Park, just north of Washington DC and near Bethesda, Maryland, where I grew up. There is this one, of the roller coaster entrance, and one of the bumper cars, in 1924.

Later in life, Glen Echo was a National Park site where, as youngster, I volunteered along with many of my siblings.

Glen Echo started in the late 1800s as a National Chautauqua Assembly site.

The Chautauqua was an educational movement that sought to unify the Protestant churches by bringing people together for classes, discussions, entertainment, and physical activity. (From History, Town of Glen Echo)

It became a straight amusement park in 1899 and continued as one until the late 1960s when it closed after declining attendance and problems with vandalism. The park came under the control of the federal government in 1971 and the National Park Service started working towards recreating the Chautauqua ethos by establishing an artists' colony.

When I worked there, there were potters and painters, a children's theater, and performances of all sorts. I think I first saw the Muppets at Glen Echo Park; a group of puppeteers performed under the pavilion that once sheltered the "cuddle-up." There was a green frog; I think it must have been pre-Sesame Street Jim Henson and company. I also recall a lovely summer-evening performance by a symphony orchestra. I think they played Appalachian Spring.

A collection of slant-wall yurts was erected and used for studio space. My mother took pottery lessons. There was a shop that sold arts created at the park. My sister Margaret managed that for part of our time there. At one point it was in one of the yurts. There was a refurbished traditional carousel, several Mahaffies helped run that from time to time.

My job, at least the one I remember best, was sitting at a beat-up surplus metal government-issue desk near the entrance to the park and serving as a public information source. That's where my vocation as an information-pusher began. I was all of maybe 12 years old, pointing people towards the pottery studio, the theater, the carousel, or the bathrooms.

I first met my eventual brother-in-law Lou Church at that desk; he sauntered up one afternoon asking where we kept the white elephants. I knew then that he was a wise-ass and would fit well into my family.

At some point, I transferred my volunteerism to the children's theater that occupied an old arcade building in the Park. Somehow I went from information desk in the sunlight to running a follow-spot from the back of a darkened Adventure Theatre. That started my avocation for theater, performance, and eventually broadcasting.

But that is a distant memory for another blog posting. For now, it was fun to see a bit more of Glen Echo's past.