Dan writes.... I'm Dan Murphy, 54 years old, currently living in Hopkinton MA (where the Boston Marathon starts). I was at camp from '64 (10 years old) until '71 as a counselor. I worked mostly on the waterfront, boating, and sailing. Camp years have given me some of the best memories of my life. After the camp was sold, I went to Camp Burgess just down the street on Spectacle Pond, and was a counselor there for just one year. Burgess had a little bit more money than Clark, and also had a great bunch of people working there.
These photos are from a previous post (March 08)
PHOTO #2
Dan ID's two guys in the above photo.
Two guys holding kids in the water are Mike Robinson (with hat) and Dick Riley.
Riley's name has been bugging me all day, and it finally popped into my head. He was probably the waterfront director at the time.
Mike Robinson was part of the Maryland contingent, and was my counselor at Ike Babbitt in '65, my second year. He was a very large guy, all muscle. Huge. Was a wrestler in college and I think he played football - would have been a great running back. Very intimidating guy because of his size, yet had a very quiet demeanor, perfect gentleman in a southern kind of way, big ear-to-ear grin, an "aw shucks" kind of guy. But don't piss him off. Mike actually had at least one date with my sister (6 years older than me). In later years, I think he had his wife with him at camp. Mike also became the waterfront director after Riley left.
I was in a junior lifesaving class with Mike as the instructor. Part of the class involved learning how to release holds a panicked victim may put on you. One requirement was the "water wrestling" component. You go out to deep water with another swimmer, he (as the victim) tries to drown you, and you try to break his holds. Very simple. Now, imagine your opponent is the captain of the U of Maryland wrestling team, you're treading water face to face, about 3-4 feet from his 22-inch neck and shoulders as wide as a pickup truck, trying to figure out how to get out of this alive.
PHOTO #4
Dan writes... There's a line of kids on the right side of the table. The fourth kid (blonde) has his arms stretched out holding a bird feeder(?) and wearing a striped shirt. I'm pretty sure that's me.
PHOTO #5
Dan writes... That's Harriet behind the counter on the right.
2 comments:
Hi--
My name is Bill Pulver; I was at Camp Clark only one year, as a counselor, during the summer of 1971.
It all started with Paul Daffinee; he and I became good friends during our freshman year at Eastern Baptist College (now Eastern University). We ran track and cross-country together, became good enough friends that I travelled to his parents home in New Bedford several times. As the summer approached, he suggested that I try to get a job at the camp he'd been going to for many years.
I think it wound up being a work-study thing, where the camp paid part of my salary and the Federal government picked up part of it. I don't recall the details, but I *do* remember that my earnings for the summer came to a whopping $300.
I have a lot of memories of my summer at Camp Clark. And (probably because of my advancing age, 55), a lot of holes in my memory. But here's what comes immediately:
--I remember getting pretty well sunburned during work week and having Uncle Bob tell me that I wasn't going to be outdoors the next day. I started to argue, but of course, to no avail.
--I'm not sure what cabin I had. Gordon, maybe?
--Who the hell was the English guy who was a counselor that year? He got me started on a life-long love of Monty Python (nod nod, wink wink, hint hint...)
--I definitely remember H_ _ _ _ and sister.
--Paul and I used to grab a canoe after lights out and paddle across the lake to meet the two girls who lived over there (NOT H_ _ _ _ & Co.) who were, ummm, under the age of consent in most states. Actually, only one of them lived there -- the other was her cousin or something like that. The one who lived there had a father who was a fireman and worked a 72-hours-on/72-off shift, so there was (shall we say) the occasional gap in parental supervision that we occasionally took advantage of (though not to the extent that we'd get arrested nowadays for statutory whatchamacallit, though it wasn't for lack of trying). When we got back to Eastern in the fall, we got daily letters, each of which had "Till the stars bring us together again..." which we ignored until they eventually stopped.
--I remember a set of twins, campers, named Jason and Jared.
--I remember some fabulous five mile runs around the lake at 5 AM, before reveille, through the mist and the fog.
--I remember Paul and I listening intently to the radio in the dining hall when they did our draft lottery (there was an unpopular war going on at the time, and an unpopular president, if you can believe it). My draft lottery number was high enough (362) that I immediately wrote to my draft board and asked them to revoke my student deferment, so as to run out my year of eligibility.
--I remember freezing my ass off -- my scrotum actually went and hid behind my spleen -- in the ocean's water when we made the hike to the beach in Sandwich.
--Who was the kid -- Kent something? -- who ate unbelievable amounts of cereal in the dining hall at night when we had cereal-eating contests? (Hemingway. Thanks, Andrew.)
--What was the name of the little cabin that the counselors hung out in after lights-out? I have vivid memories of sitting there late one night hearing The Doors' 'Riders On The Storm' (I mean really HEARING it) for the first time.
--Does the name Steve Runk ring a bell? Heavy-set-ish kind of guy with wire-rims and a fuzznuts attempt at a beard? Counselor? And was HE the guy who scared the crap out of everyone during Work Week in the middle of the night by unleashing an ungodly scream?
--I remember the kingpin on one of the front wheels of the camp truck breaking (maybe when making a trash run to the Sandwich town dump?), and the wheel just sort of sitting there at an odd angle. I seem to recall it was a red Ford pickup, and not the old, old green Chevy truck...
God, so much...can't wait to have my memory jogged a bit more...
--Bill Pulver
Photo #5,,craft shop, that's me in front with wooden spoons, I do remember going to craft shop and making those.. wow
Tom Thayer
Maricopa az
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