By Ruth Eisenberg Wouk

There is a place near Ellenville
They call Stern's Summer Camp
To which, as I remember still,
I longed each year to tramp.

Our parents packed our clothes with glee,
And flung us on the bus.
They shelled out an outrageous fee,
To just be rid of us.

Each morning at the crack of dawn
From nowhere would appear
Some man with an accordion
Or bugle to blare in my ear.

They made me sweep.  They made me sing
That silly  ‘Tramp Tramp’  song.
They made me craft some lanyard thing
Twenty-two feet long.

Social night was Saturday.
We danced while music played.
Our social lives got more risqué
With a late-at-night bunk raid.

The crackerjack outdoorsman thought
He’d lead a hike to Tillson Lake,
But a compass toy was all he brought -
Just a small mistake.

A sibling, a cousin, a friend so true
As close as two could be
But while she was gold and you were blue,
Your bitter enemy.

Oh, nasty words were sometime said,
And yes, we could be mean.
We’d put short sheets on someone’s bed
Or stick a frog between.

At camp, we had the bluest sky.
We played on fields so green.
We sang love songs to the gorgeous guy
Who filled the coke machine.

How do reunions make you feel?
They often leave one numb.
You meet old friends and see how real-
Ly old they’ve all become.

 Memories still return to me,
Some nights when I lower my lamp,
Of when the world was safe, and our hearts were free
Back when we were Stern’s Summer Camp.

For Leslie who lit the spark and for Elaine and Alan who helped carry the torch home.

To a special three, we owe a debt
For they did volunteer.
They spent long hours on the ‘net
To bring us all back here.

At times it must have been a pain,
So for all that you’ve gone through,
Alan, Leslie and Elaine
Our deep-felt thanks to you.