Camp Comstock - 1960 - Buccaneer Unit

  1960 was an interesting and life-changing year for me at Camp Comstock. It's going to take 3 days to tell the story, and tonight there aren't even good pictures to go with it.

First of all, I want you to know that it cost $40 to go to a 2-week session of camp. That was a lot of money, and I had saved that amount the previous year. I think my mom would have come up with the cash, but I was determined to pay my own way. I had a mechanical dime bank that locked when you put the first dime in and wouldn't open until you had $10. That was perfect. I wasn't tempted to sneak any money out of my camp fund. I'd show you a picture, but the bank was stolen a long time ago by one of our foster kids.

I'd always gone to third session at Comstock. However, I really, really (using junior high vocabulary there) wanted to go to two sessions. There were two ladies at church, unmarried sisters who lived on their family farm. It was a big property with a lovely house and a white board fence that encircled the estate-sized lawn. I just spent an hour looking for a picture of that yard, because I'm sure I have one. But I can't find it either. Anyway, they said they would pay me $40 to scrape and paint that fence. And, just like that, I had the money to go to two sessions. I suppose Mom had to drive me out to their house every day until the job was done. It was 5 or 6 miles away which seemed like a long distance at the time.

Also that year, Comstock decided to start a brand-new unit called Pioneer-Primitive. It was going to be carved out of the forest by campers. There was a clearing and a small pavilion with a concrete floor, but girl power was going to do everything else. I signed up.

However, when I arrived at camp at the beginning of the second session, I learned that I had been assigned to Buccaneer because I was so young (a year younger than other kids in my grade) . That unit had Adirondack shelters- very similar to this one (which is on the North Country Trail). There weren't bunks, just floors.

The Buccaneer song was: "B-U-C, B-U-C, B-U-C-C-A-N-E, B-U-C-C-A-N-E-E-R-S spells Buccaneers. Buccaneers, Buccaneers, been in Scouting many years. Sailing o'er the lakes of blue, wait and it will soon be you."

But, I simply could not believe this was happening to me. I'm not saying that I couldn't be manipulative when I wanted to be, but my reaction was absolute heartbreak. Campers arrived on Sunday afternoons, and I think I began to cry pretty soon after we got our unit assignments, and I know I cried all night. I think my mother was called, although that memory might be hazy.

Is there any grief greater than that of a 12-year old whose dreams have just been dashed? For today, I will leave you at the scene with me sobbing in my bedroll.

In other news: I did a little bit on every one of my projects today. I wonder how long I can keep this up. So far, the house hasn't self-destructed back into the appearance of the aftermath of a hurricane. I'm never sure that it won't do that without provocation. Houses seem quite skittish.

See Merrymen Unit