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Thoughts on a porch

I think it was the summer of 1950 when James got his first job….as a camp counselor in Wisconsin. Harry Truman (who had ordered the atomic bombs dropped on Japan) had just ordered the hydrogen bomb built and sent army and airforce units to Korea. The average income was about $3000 a year and a loaf of bread was 14 cents. In 1950 , the life expectancy for a man was 65. James ,now 70, sat on the porch of the log cabin and tried to reach back into that time.
It was his first job away from the day to day supervision of his parents. His father, who was an intense “scouter” , had used the old boy network and gotten James the position of “nature director” (in a department of one) in Camp Ma-Ka-Ja-Wan. It was a scout camp near Pearson , Wisconsin, about 25 miles from Antigo. The trip from the family home in Wilmette, Illinois, to Antigo was considered a long one in those days, and a long trip often meant a train trip. Getting a train at the Northwestern station in Wilmette, James transferred in Wisconsin to a freight train, with a single car on the end, divided in half for passengers, crew, and mail. It took a full day to reach Antigo.
James was living the dream of his father by taking that train. To his father’s generation, the train was a vehicle of wonder, the trip on a slow train, a fine wine to enjoy! As an old man , James could understand that, and share in the pleasure. As a young boy/man , however, to travel at the end of a long freight train, alone , with two train crew members, was something of a trial. From time to time one of the crew would jump out the open mailroom door and walk along with the moving train.
Camp Ma-Ka-Ja-Wan was a beautiful place of northern wilderness. One of the lakes, had silted in and a floating bog grew rare and unusual plants. The order of the arrow, at a huge bonfire, called him first to the ordeal honor, and then to the brotherhood! Even now, when James smelled pine needles burning he was drawn back to dark mysteries lite by burning needles in tin cans filled with kerosene.
Dozing off on the porch, James drifted to thoughts of another camp. This one was when he was older…Camp Shewahmegon on lake Owens near Drummond, Wisconsin. Here he was placed (not willingly!) as a cabin counselor with six eight-year-old from well-to-do familes. The owner, an MD from Illinois, believed in the great outdoors!
In the morning (every morning but Sunday he thought…..or…was it just once in a while, and his memory expanded the number? Ah well. ) everyone (yes, James too) ran a mile in the nude, then ran into the cold northern lake at the end of the run. There were well over 50, lily white bodies! James wondered a bit about the good doctor from his perspective of aged wisdom as he fell asleep.