Carl Hokanson provides a new piece of Camp Clark memorabilia.

Carl Hokanson provide a new piece of Camp Clark memorabilia. His brother Richard also a Camp Clark alumnus passed this document on to Carl and Carl forwarded it to me. This piece has a special point of interest for yours truly. So a special thanks to Carl and Richard Hokanson.

As I prepped this piece to get it ready to post (a little Photoshop tweaking) I read it as the tweaks brought out some of the faded words.

For the first time there it was my name Wayne Griffiths in a comtemporanous document from Camp Clark in it's 54th season.  Answering the question "what did you like best about camp?"
Wayne Griffiths "losing my fear of deep water".

If you can date this document that would be a great piece of info. With the passing of my mom and dad I have no idea of when this could have been. Two hints in the document 1. all the campers were 10 years old. 2. The cabin Craigleigh.  I was born in 1947 so this would make this document a 1957 writing. Meaning the camp's first season would have been circa 1903.

Thanks Carl and Richard. Enjoy memories. 

This great photo was taken by Renee Fazio.

Thank you Renee for granting permission for me to use your photo.

Please visit Renee's website to view her work.

I remember this view from my days at Camp Clark circa 1960.  How about you?

About Renee in her own words.

Renee Fazio is a self taught, ambitious photographer who specializes in glamour and family portraiture and special events.  She has a passion for capturing genuine emotions and goes out of her way to make everyone feel comfortable and laugh.

The daughter of an avid photographer, Renee grew up with a camera in hand.  At the young age of 8 she would line up her dolls for portrait sittings and take photos of them.  After she suffered the loss of her father she wanted his passion to live on through her.  She became actively involved in the art world studying from well known locals and reading as much as she could get her hands on.

Her work has been seen on the covers of New Bedford guide, and Dartmouth Guide.  She has also exhibited numerous times at Gallery X in New Bedford, MA.  Her piece "The beauty that Awaits," received newspaper recommendation in 2012.

A message from Renee: If I could say only one thing about my work it would be that I'm extremely grateful for the opportunity to document these moments of your life.  

Bob Zimmermann's memories and pictures. Part #3

I can remember sitting at our kitchen table while mom and dad filled out my first application to Camp Clark. Although I don't remember exactly what application it was it could very well have been one like this.

The is a commercial contemporaneous postcard. Probably sold at the camp. This is the view I remember as seen from the hill by the flag pole. All of the trees and underbrush have been removed and  the waterfront is clearly visible today.

The following photos were taken during Sunday Services at the outdoor chapel located out in the woods near the junior section.

This is the beach area as I remember it. The trees and underbrush came right down to the waters edge. This is not the case now. The trees and underbrush are gone and the waterfront is open with a clear view to the lake.

Carl Hokanson adds to his story. Remember? "You can't get to heaven in a Camp Clark truck." Joseph Larson has another task.

Hi, This is Carl Hokanson  , most likely remembered as the "baby of the Hokanson wild bunch". I guess I might have been known as "Cow lick Carly" being that was my most prominent feature. .

   I and my other 4 brothers were there circa 1957-9 , Kenny would know best, but I do recall some of the events at Camp Clark that would shape my life and many others as well.  My older brothers were workers and that helped pay off my camp bill and give my widowed mother a break from her 5 sons.

  One song not mentioned thus far is the great"hit" , ..." You can't get to heaven in a Camp Clark truck", cause the gosh darn thing ain't good enough!"....   I'm sure there were other verses some may or may not remember.  I do remember the old canvas sided truck and how it picked the youngest campers so we would not perish along the side of the road when hiking to the dunes of the Cape. And so we didn't die from exposure, brought us youngens back early as the camp out turned into sunburns and a very cold damp night at Sandy Neck in  Sandwich .

    Speaking of music, I seem to remember early opera records being played by some slightly demented counsilor , 'that shall remain nameless to protect the guilty. Tom Lehrer was so much better and fun to hum along to, even if  his humor went way over my cow licked head.  But there were always other  many  great camp songs that we enjoyed.

   I seem to remember there is an official camp photo of my bent over behind looking into the pond for fish or tadpoles. I may also be the one in the teather ball photo behind the arm of the striker, The cow lick looks familiar.***see photo elsewhere.

   I remember the late night , highly frowned upon bull frog hunts up the back edge of the pond.   I remember the grub ax and land clearing  projects to the water front in front of the junior cabins that took weeks and many blisters.  Plus there was the clearing of the area of the parking lot to the edge of the swamp that took lots of time in the hot sun for a new play field.

   I remember the once in a while hot dog and marshmallow  feasts and camp out in the nether regions way in the darkest heart of the outback. And of course the clever tribal ceremonies and the mystical gillie goofus bird.  The pow wow really put the W in wow to our young minds.

   Also some of my misdemeanors where trivial to what my older "learned" brothers were pulling off, But they did show my  family roots for trouble with a capital T.

   Once when asked to fetch  the bugle for the camp " musician"  to play" Soupy ", (The dinner call) . I tried my hand or lips so to speak at the favorite starving camper song as I walked back with the brass horn.  After the second playing my me, the whole camp came a running like a herd of wilderbeasts, only to find out it was  I that  had played the siren's song and that chow was still 1/2 hr. away. Luckily I was small and they tended not to beat up the little kids,, Or perhaps it was my brother's protection racket that kept me safe. But if looks could kill, I might be on a spit.

  I remember my one BIG coup de grace , at least to the White  team I was on. There was a ongoing contest between the red and white teams to accumulate points from special projects, nature finds,  and other good "do be" things. Late in the season just before the closing date for point entries, I found in my diggings back behind the nature hut a salemander  with eggs under some log I was poking around under, When brought to Spike , he was in awe of my little find and gave my team  ( much to the chagrin of the Red team) enough points to squeak out a last second  buzzer beating win.    Hero to some ,, bum to others. , I think the prize was,that we got a catered supper by the losing team. I seem to remember how one of the Hastings was POed. But he had to serve our supper, while he ate crow.  Soupy" never sounded soooo good!"

Lesson in life 101:: If the red team had not teased us little kids when they had a big lead things may have been different. I do remember the call to arms and the daily hunt for bonus points and their agony of defeat!   Nah- nah Ha ha hoo, hornet bites are good for you!

  I will dig out family photos and other camp memorobilia  and send them in , but  my favorite times in life were the learning to swim, the badges, the archery, the camp outs and all the great camp activities, And most of all the wisdom of Uncle Bob and the Hastings, and Johnsons  and all who made the mystical summers of my youth the best times of all..

    all the best  " little"  Carly Hokanson


Updates #1 & #2 below.

Update #1

It seems like a lot of memories are etched into my grey matter and when I think back, I remember the" darndest things".

    I remember the photo of me or at least when on a visit to Camp , when I was 5 or 6 years young , to see the older kin that were there as campers , I was hanging around at the apron strings of my dearly departed Mother , Sallie. A photographer was there, I now assume taking official camp photos, seeing he needed a little action for his swimming/ pond shot he suggested that I go to the pond and do something, hence the photo of little Carly looking into the lake with amazement at the little aqua world inches below the surface. Also seen in the photo is the back of Wild Bill walking down the pier to no doubt perform some mischief of some sort.  All in all it ended up showing a very typical scene of the pond and all the levels of activities.

   Of course how could one forget the warmth and aromas of the mess hall, the large fireplace mantle , the wide kitchen window with wide shelf where our sustenance was put three times a day.  Warren Hastings ( if I recall right) was a little task master, perhaps due to his dad running the show and I'm sure as all parents tend to do, held his flesh and blood kin a little closer to the fire. But I digress.

   Well it seem to me Warren ( if memory serves me)  loved the Kellogg's  double GG good snack packs  and held them in high regard , not only for their flavor and high sugar content, but because it would save a bowl that he would have to wash later. Unfortunately it was an act of God to cut open the top without piercing the wax paper lining that formed the temporary leak proof bowl. It took many tries with my boy scout knife to perform the act without the milk leaking and sogging out the cardboard box, But we learned to like it and use less milk  and  eat very quickly. Sometimes I just ate the hot cereal and do without the mess.    OF course there was always the smart camper who was first to the Kellogg's assortment and squirrel away his favorite Tony the Tiger GGGGreats.  We quickly learned his hiding places so we got the good stuff as well. There were so many boxes hidden when we finally sniffed out the stash, that we all had the sugar coated Pops for a week.

   I seem to remember the rally song when better fare was required and,, Was that the aroma of bacon on the grill??,  that drove us to the rally song.     An a one , an a two, everybody sing!!

   " Ham and eggs,, Ham and eggs, I like mine nice and brown, I like mine upside down,,,,  Ham and eggs , Ham and eggs, Flip em, Flop em, Flop em, Flip em, Ham and egggggssss....

   Everyone tried to make special requests Over easy, Sunny side up , or just take from the pan of scrambled. One or two of the older guys with more refined taste insisted on poached and cooked there own , so  they had it their way, on toast points to boot!

   For some reason I got KP dish duty, I can't recall if it was for a misdemeanor or just part of the hard work ethic, But I believe the dish washer  had  broke shortly after the hot water heater had given up the ghost( Exploded may be a better description). The camp had been inspected and due to sanitary problems due to the lack of hot H2O,   the Camp in dutch, so even with out the dish washer, we had to that day the directive , "Kill the offending bugs with very hot tap water or else", The Hasting's kid on duty insisted we hold our hands to the flame and hand dip each plate into the scalding hot water, Way to hot for me, Hastings would run his hand under ice  cold water to freeze his hand long enough to take the boiling oil ,hot water the newly plumbed  water heater could now copiously pump out. Can you spell OUCH!!!!  Hastings earned  his snack packs that day!

   And finally , for today at least , I remember the "Horrible Parade" I think that was the name of the event, or maybe cause it turned out that way for me,,But I digress.

   We were to have costume parade day where campers would dress and act  out skits and other assorted madness, so my CIT came up with the not so brilliant idea for me and another camper to dress as "fat and skinny". So at the last second, Fat was dressed with multiply layers of clothing,,,,  I , Skinny,  was dressed in a bathing suit and barrel , well it was bad enough for me as it was a particularly frigid day and the barrel was not designed to be polar gear. I FFFFFroze till I was blue.  The fat kid had it pretty good in his copious layers,,,,  That is, of course until it was time to remove the now dried black  enamel  paint that was used to make our  painted on mustashes and other  skin marking in the heavy thick permanent, no doubt lead based paint .  I still remember the burn of turpentine and the redden skin burn I had.

    Days later,  Ivory," the  soap that floated" finally removed the last traces of toxic paint. But never the memory!  Also remember ,  the fact that the bar of  Ivory was constantly being retrieved by older camper for us kids when it slipped away into the deep section  that we were forbodden from. Some of them actually probably floated across the pond before they melted into nothingness in the vast  Lake of Laurence.  Some lucky bars decorated with sails to speed the  lake's crossing and safe land fall.  .  Ivory served multiple purposes and laundered clothes as well as dealt out punishments when ingested by naughty little boys..  "  Foaming crud??",   Was that a camp song lyric as well?? " Cider from a Straw   and   "Goober Peas" anyone remember these??? ,,    an a one , an a two.

I hope my stories remind the campers of the good times , the names have not been changed to protect the guilty!  But my memory is not  99 and 44% pure     ,, your fellow camper,,      little Carly H.

Update #2 Camp Songs

I Ain't A Gonna Grieve My Lord No More

1. If you get to heaven,
Before I do,
Just bore a hole,
And pull me through
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


CH: I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


2. Oh, the deacon went down,
To the cellar to pray,
But he fell asleep,
And he stayed all day.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


3. Oh, you can't get to heaven,
In a motor boat,
'Cause a motor boat,
On air won't float.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


4. You can't get to heaven,
In a putt-putt car,
'Cause a putt-putt car,
Won't go that far.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


5. You can't get to heaven,
In dirty blue jeans,
'Cause the Lord don't have,
No warahin' machines.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


6. You can't get to heaven,
On roller skates,
'Cause you'll roll right past,
Those pearly gates.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


7. If I get to heaven,
Before you do,
I'll plug that hole,
With shavings and glue.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


8. You can't get to heaven,
If you've sinned all day,
'Cause if you've sinned all day,
You'll go the other way,
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


9. You can't get to heaven,
If you've sinned all day,
'Cause if you've sinned all day,
You'll go the other way,
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


10. You can't get to heaven,
In a rocking chair,
'Cause the lord don't allow,
No lazy folks there.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


11. You can't get to heaven,
With nickles in your jeans,
'Cause the Lord don't have
No slot machines.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


12. You can't get to heaven,
In a limousine,
'Cause the Lord don't sell,
No gasoline.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


13. Oh, the devil is mad,
And I am glad,
He lost a soul,
He thought he had.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.


14. That's all there is,
There ain't no more,
St. Peter Himself,
Just closed the door.
I ain't a gonna grieve my Lord no more.

Hi, Here's the song lyrics, I remember the Camp Clark final verse / moral as:
Now 49 years of foaming crud, we both drink cider from a mug
Now 49 years of foaming crud , we both drink cider from a mug.. 

SIPPIN CIDER

The prettiest girl I ever saw
Was sippin' cider
Through a straw
The prettiest girl I ever saw
Was sippin' cider through a straw
I asked her if
She'd teach me how
To sip some cider
Through a straw
I asked her if she'd reach me how
To sip some cider through a straw
First cheek to cheek
Then jaw to jaw
We sipped that cider
Through a straw
First cheek to cheek, then jaw to jaw
We sipped that cider through a straw
And now and then
That straw did slip
And we'd sip cider
Lip to lip
And now and then that straw did slip
And we'd sip cider lip to lip
And now I've got
A mother-in-law
And nineteen kids
That call me "Paw"
And now I've got a mother-in-law
And nineteen kids that call me "Paw"
The moral of
This little tale
Is sip your cider
Through a pail
The moral of this little tale
Is sip your cider through a pail

More tidbits of history from Pete Mandell. Yet more to follow.

All of the photos in this posting are from one pamphlet. I'm pretty sure no one (aside from maybe Pete and Joe) has seen this material including the photos for ... I would guess nearly 40 years...maybe 50 years.

 I think there is one really unique picture in my mind.  It is a picture of an outside altar made of stone. I have no idea where that is or was located.  Note: See Pete's response below

Click on each photo & the comments below the pictures for a larger version of the photo & comments.

Outdoor altar.  Where was this located?

Update: from Pete Mandell an ask and you shall receive...  "you had a question about the location of the stone altar (with rough-hewn rows of benches before it). It was one of the most peaceful and really beautiful areas in the camp, existing from at least the early 1940s to at least 1955. (What happened to the components, I couldn't say; it disappeared after I left camp.) If you walked down the road behind the junior cabins - Kiwanis and Rotary - headed toward the junior point, the Chapel was on your left, between the road and the pond maybe 200 feet behind Kiwanis. 

It was sometimes referred to as the Paul Favor Chapel - after the long-time General Secretary of the NB YMCA, seen in one of the pictures with Ken Bennett and Paul Spurrier from a 1944 (?) Standard-Times article. I'm guessing that some fair-sized pine trees are now growing in that spot by now.

Pete... Now that you located it for me I do have memories of something in that area. In all honesty when we could sneak down to junior point we usually headed straight to the point.  There was a girls camp on the other side of the lake. Maybe they were swimming or canoeing.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

See comments at the top of the page under the trifold pamphlet for detail description of these photos.

Camp Clark 1948. Thanks to Joseph Larson for these great additions to Camp Clark history.

CLICK each photo for a LARGER version.

Co-Wah Craft Shop and Lodge. 1st. floor is the craft shop. 2nd floor is lodge (14 campers).

Infirmary and nurse's quarters.
Added info from Joseph Larson

The Infirmary and nurses quarters were both in the building in the picture.
As I recall sick campers entered the right hand door and the door on the far
left was a separate entrance to the nurse's room(s). The Infirmary was at
the far end of the Senior section and near the start of the trail up to
Brownbread.

Waterfront

L to R Brian Handspicker (14), Meredith "Jerry" Handspicker,  Joseph Larson (15)

Note: Pete Mandell in the background between Brian and Jerry.

Waterfront

Photos, pennant, swimming and membership cards. Thanks Brian Cormier

These great additions to the website were emailed to me today. The were sent by Brian Cormier Acushnet Mass.

These two cards are great. The first one has the Camper's name Brian Cormier And Robert M. Hastings (Uncle Bob). The second card is a swimming award card. In this case Minnow. If memory serves me right Minnow was the first award you earn in Y.M.C.A. swimming programs. This card has Alan Hastings signature on it. At the time he was the Aquatic Director.

These 4 cards span the years 1967-1970.

Written on the back of this picture. Kevin Reese he lives Brooklyn, NY his dad is a chef.

Dan Murphy writes: Kevin Reese was one on my favorite campers. He was from NY city, and incredibly good natured. Couldn't swim worth sh*t. I was a either a councilor or a JC in New cabin when I had Kevin.

Written on the back. Pat Whitehurst from Maryland and Kevin Bamford from Yarmouth- I do not think the Kevin identification is correct as I remember him as being skinny and with blond hair.

Written on the back... a picture of Craigleigh Cabin and on the back it says- first cabin.

Additional notes from Brian Cormier Acushnet Mass email.....

[My] Mom's body may be failing but her mind is sharp as ever and she says that the first year I went to Clark I stayed in Craigleigh which is supported by the picture, the next year I stayed above the craft shop ( I think this was Cowah?), the following year I stayed up behind the mess hall I do not recall the name of this cabin and then the next two years I believe I stayed in Gordon cabin.

I also have some pages from the Camp Clark Bullfrog Bulletin but attempts to scan them do not go well as they are old mimeographs on colored paper and are barely readable after scanning.

How I rediscovered Camp Clark.

In a previous post I promised I would explain how I rediscovered Camp Clark. Well here it is.

I spent many summers at Camp Clark in the late 1950s early 1960s. My last summer was probably 1961 or 1962. In October 1965 I enlisted in the USAF.

Sometime during that four year enlistment I received a call and I believe a written correspondence from former Camp Clark campers via my parents. The campers were trying to save the camp from being sold to a land developer. I believe my parents and I sent money or made a pledge to send money to the committee. At that time I was a medic in the USAF and did not have direct contact with the organizers of the group trying to save the camp. I do remember at some point receiving a message that the camp had been sold.

I know my parents and I believed for many years that the camp had been sold and we imagined it was now a housing development. Over the years my mom and I often talked about Camp Clark.

After getting discharged from the Air Force in 1969 I moved back to my hometown. I got married and started a family. In 1973 my wife Donna and I had our first son Scott. Life went on. I would often think about the camp usually in the warming spring and summer months. The thoughts were joyful and depressing at the same time. The joys of remembering the great days of swimming, boating, crafts and nature walks were quickly accompanied by the depressing thoughts of a housing development sitting on the shore of Lawrence Pond.

In 1978 we moved to Wisconsin. Many times over the years I would think of Camp Clark. I'm sure I told and retold some of my favorite stories. The stories of learning to water ski and sailing a boat. The stories of the time my mom volunteered to be the camp cook after the camp cook left one morning between breakfast and lunch. Stories about Uncle Bob and DC (Dave Cowell). I know I tried to find gimp on more than one occasion so I could make a lanyard. A craft skill I learned at camp. I know I've made more than one lanyard over the years and still use one as a key chain.

For the next 30+ years life moved on. Thoughts of the camp were never far away especially during the warm summer months.

Over the years when we would return to New England for a visit we would always visit Plymouth and the Cape. Oh how I wanted to see Camp Clark just one more time. Unfortunately I never had the desire or the courage to seek out the site of the "former" Camp Clark. Instead I choose to hold on to my memories of that great place.

On one visit to home in 1997 I was "down on the cape" visiting my nephew who, at the time was living and working on the cape. Ryan was working at a local Cape Cod lumber yard in the Sandwich area. Ryan, his mother Cheryl, my wife Donna and I were out doing a little sight seeing.

At some point along the way I started to talk about Camp Clark. I'm sure over the years Ryan had heard some if not all of my stories. I'll bet he even started to roll his eyes and thought here we go again the old camp stories. But, this time something was different, this time I said something that may him pause and ask me exactly where the camp was. I said somewhere around here on a small clear water pond. I then started to describe the camp as I had remembered it. At the entrance it open to a large field on the left with a large building, the chow hall, on a small hill with a flag pole out front and the water front on the right and....he stop me and said that camp is still there unk (short for uncle).

Then we started an all to common give and take between Ryan and myself.....No it's not!....yes it is unk!....I've been there delivering lumber.....You couldn't have it was sold in the late 1960s.....unk it IS STILL THERE!....It's not!.....It is AND I'll show you!

Twenty minutes later we drove down a long sand drive that didn't look at all familiar. The drive open onto a large gravel parking lot that was not an entrance to the Camp Clark I remembered. On the right I could see water but it was to open and to treeless to be Camp Clark. Then there was a sign at the back of the parking lot that read Camp Lyndon. Nice try Ryan but this isn't.........wait STOP! On the left the chow hall, the flag pole, the field, on the right the water front, the boat house. Camp Clark oh what a feeling of being there again. I told you Unk it is still here. He was right and he had a I told you so smirk on his face.

I'm sure I was getting out of the car before it stopped. I head straight toward the chow hall. The moment I walked in the front door and heard the screen door slam behind me I knew I was in the place I had remembered. It even smelled the same. Tears of joy and laughter.

For the next few hours we all wander the camp grounds while I told new stories of the nature shack and the sail boats and the early morning swims we all had to take each morning.

Then in the middle of all the joy of seeing the camp for the first time in 30+ years I suddenly had a moment or real sadness. It was 1998 my oldest son Scott was now 25 years old and he didn't get the chance to spend anytime at Camp Clark. If I had only known it was still there In April of 1973. Or the summer of 1980 or 1981 when he was 7 or 8.

Later that day we went to my parents home and picked up my mom and drove back to the camp so she could see it. Later that week we returned to the camp and stayed a couple of night in the new family camp ground built adjacent to the junior area.

A recent visit

Scott and I did get to spend a great afternoon at the camp this past February. This is the same chow hall and flag pole I remembered from my first summer at camp. I hope that we will get to spend a week at the camp. Maybe next summer.

Swimming Awards.

In a previous post I wrote about learning to swim at Camp Clark and "Award Nights" at the end of session Campfire. These are the patches that were handed out at those award nights. I can still remember the feeling of hearing your name being called and walking up and getting your award.