Fraternity-Testvériség, 1982 (60. évfolyam, 1-4. szám)
1982-10-01 / 4. szám
1 MEMOIRS OF AN ALUMNUS OF BETHLEN HOME HUNGARIAN SUMMER SCHOOL CAMP Edward S. Barboe (2-78 — revised and edited 3-82) July, 1967, I had just finished first grade and was looking forward eagerly to a summer of fun and game, when it was decided by the higher authorities — my parents — that my brother and I were to go to an out-of-state summer camp for a month. Although not fully comprehending what sort of a camp we would be going to, we both were extremely excited about our vacation away from home for the very first time in our lives. It seemed quite thrilling — until the laborious task came of sewing name tags and marking everything we were to be taking along! For me, the sewing part was very difficult for I just barely had learned how to write, let alone sew with needle and thread, but somehow I managed. The ride to Ligonier, Pennsylvania was a long one — about six and a half hours by car from where I live in New Jersey. Along the way, I began to have some misgivings about being away from Mom and Dad for a whole month: one full month — that could be like an eternity! What if they didn’t come back at all for us? When I voiced my concerns, my mother reminded me assuringly that my older brother would be there also and could take care of and watch out for me. Upon our arrival at the 'camp’ at Ligonier, I immediately began to feel uneasy about the idea of staying there. It was not at all what I had pictured in my thoughts. It did not look like a camp — there were no tents, no lakes, no forest — only a building! Not a single thing that I had imagined or expected! Then, before I knew it, my big brother and I were placed in separate rooms and had unpacked our things. Without much time elapsing, the goodbyes were said and done with, and I was suddenly alone in a strange room with seven other boys — all strangers! It was quite a trying moment for me to say the least I was frightened, nervous and yet excited. I just did not know what to expect, nor did I anticipate having a good time there any more. I’ll try to relate some interesting recollections of how the life there, in general, was like during that summer of ’67. In the morning, we were all awakened at 7 o’clock by the house mother, who went around the rooms with a large bell. She would walk right into the middle of our room and ring it very loudly and most emphatically! After we had awakened and dressed, the children paraded down the stairs into the dining hall. All of us had assigned seats at long tables and waited to be served as though we were in a restaurant. At the morning meal, we were served oatmeal or some other quite satisfying food. The only problem that I could complain about regarding breakfasts there was the mere fact that I didn’t have any Nestle’s Quik Chocolate Mix to add to my milk — the way I used to at home. After we all finished consuming the morning nourishment, we were aRowed to go outside and play. There were swings, slides, seesaws, and sandbox. My favorite was the sandbox! I would stay in it as long as possible, playing in the sand as much as I could, since at that tender age, dirt meant fun. I would play there until the bell would rung for school to start. Until lunchtime, we students would spend our time learning various facts of interest in regard to our forebearers’ native Hungary, about our cultural heritage, and also some of the Hungarian (Magyar) language. We would attempt to study these lessons vigorously until noon, when we were dismissed. One of the individuals whc taught us was Reverend Zoltán Kovács from a nearby town in Pennsylvania. After we had eaten the noon meal, usually we would go back outside to the playground. Once again. I’d head straight for my favorite spot, and would practically burv myself from head to toes in the sandbox. After playtime recess, we would be summoned back into the schoolroom for learning more lessons during the afternoon. When the schoolday was finished, all of the students assembled in the dining area for a won derful supper. This was the highlight of the day. And there was no more class after the conclusion of the meal. At the table, there was much joking and laughing about the day or just about a particular incident. Also, I remember once an entrée to the meal was a serving of pea soup given with the reminder to ‘eat it all up’ because it was ‘very nourishing’ for us! As mentioned previously, there was much gaiety felt and expressed at dinnertime generally by everyone, except those who had drawn ‘K. P.’ (that is kitchen police). I was exempted from this ‘draft’ because of my tender age. It was a good thing, too, that they chose to protect us youngsters from the mammouth-sized pots, which many of the older ones had to scrub clean. At any rate, I was able to determine the arduousness of that task from my brother, who was one of those who was ‘drafted’ to sanitize the huge empty food vats. The lucky ones could go outside and exercise until it was time to retire for the night. In general, the foregoing described how a typical five-day week (Monday to Friday) would progress while I was at the Bethlen Home Summer Camp. 6
