Author: Mitch Wittenberg
Date: 07-31-02 08:20
Hello All!
Yea Rah Rah! What a completely unexpected surprise to discover this forum by way of my friend Don Schwartz. It is wonderful to read the recollections of camp and to see the names of some of my old pals, cabinmates, and kids with whom I spent time as a counselor.
Needless to say, camp lives on for me in many ways every day. The limited space of this forum only allows me the opportunity to share but a few thoughts at the moment. I am a psychologist living in St. Paul, MN and while most of my time is spent in the city, I am only a few hours from Minong and thus have the chance to head to the northwoods from time to time (not as often as I might like). For those who know me, fishing excursions figure prominently in my northward treks, and I even had the opportunity earlier this summer to spend a few days teaching fly fishing (while fishing the Brule and Long Branch trout steams) at Camp Nebagamon, where my 12 year old son is a camper; how could I not recall Doc H so patiently imparting words of wisdom on the fishing dock (and his lovely fly fishing hat--I wonder where it is today?), Gordy catching a few bass while wading out by Council Horseshoe (and refusing sell me a Johnson Century reel when I was a Pioneer in 1970 because he didn't think I would be responsible enough to take care of it....well, I still use that very same reel and my red $2.00 St. Croix fishing rod he finally sold me during parent's weekend when my parents intervened on my behalf to this day), and my trips on the Big Horse with Kent Moore the fishing head at the time. I also drove by the Go-Cart track in Spooner where time was spent during the Five-Year trip; I chuckled as I recalled Merc getting kicked off the track for reckless driving!
The "small nature of the world" alluded to in many of the postings was certainly in operation at Nebagamon as I had the chance to spend several days reminiscing about camp with their camp doctor--Mike Frank of "Mike Frank Cup" fame; his son also attends Nebagamon as do many other kids who don't have the opportunity to follow in their father's footsteps at Horseshoe.
The call of the whippoorwill, the breezes through the trees, and the mere mention of "Wisconsin" bring back echoes of laughter and fond memories of friendships past. I really look forward reconnecting with fellow Horseshoe-ites through this forum.
Cheers,
Mitch
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