Camp
Chapter One
the first trip
1949
It was the summer of 1949, and I was seven. Some forty miles north
of New York City, my family had a summer home on sixty acres, "in
the back" (as we called it) of my grandfather's gentleman's farm. I
was attending a day camp, Camp Mohawk, to do what kids in Bedford
Hills and Mount Kisco and Chappaqua and Armonk and White Plains did
when their parents wanted every minute accounted for during the
summer. I had been at Mohawk just one week, already the survivor of
a lost baseball mitt and my sister's throwing up in the bus, when
the subject of overnight camp came up.
We were sitting at dinner on the screened porch of the house when
the voice of God (God was my father) said, "I thought I'd take you
up to Camp Keeway ... read full excerpt from Camp ebook
