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Old 08-31-2012, 07:16 AM   #1
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Join Date: Nov 2003
Location: Florida
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Departure Day

We woke extra early, put the finishing touches on our trunk and duffle, packed up our last possessions in a bag, and collected the occasional “treasure” that just wouldn’t fit in anything. Then, off to the dining hall for the last meal of the season, trying to make believe that it was just another breakfast while knowing it was the last time we would see bunkmates, friends, girlfriends or boyfriends perhaps forever.

When we were a little older, we made that walk confident of the upcoming reunions at Flushing Meadow Park or somewhere out on the Island. We promised ourselves we’d write and many of us did. We were glad to be leaving the rustic setting that we had learned to love, to get some private time and a chance to be clean. We looked forward to the end of serving as a movable feast for insects.
That last day of camp was hardly fair. That nineteenth day of the three-week trip was barely a night’s sleep and a bus ride. In just a few hours we would hang up our position and status − within our bunk, our unit, or our division − and begin the slow transition to normalcy, with school barely a week away. We weren’t thinking of that just yet though many of us were teary-eyed and some even cried.

Leaving the dining hall, we were hit the hardest. In Narrowsburg, it wasn’t a right turn back to the units, it was a left to the ball fields and the waiting buses. It was confusing, this break from routine; that was the end of our “summer normal.” We tried to carry the camp atmosphere with us to the waiting buses and then onto the buses and then to Manhattan or some Long Island drop-off location. But by the time we saw parents and family we could carry it no longer. Camp was over as abruptly as anything we had ever experienced in our short lives. The reunions and letters could hardly replace it. And the next summer season too many months for an adolescent to really comprehend, meaning for the moment that the best days of our lives had ended.

I will forever remember August 31 as the last day of camp, just as the Narrowsburg six-weekers will remember their day. Maybe it was different for them because they still had a summer. For us, it was just a quick decompression and then off to school. I have felt this way just a few times in my life: generally leaving one city to move to another. But always, it is like leaving Wel-Met; the definitive end of a chapter never again to be recreated.
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Old 09-01-2012, 10:55 AM   #2
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I can feel it now!

45 years later I can still feel the butterflies in stomach as camp ended. Those incredible years set us out for who and where we are today.

Pretty Awesome
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Old 09-07-2012, 09:14 PM   #3
Michael Ohlstein
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For us, it was August 9th......
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Old 10-24-2012, 09:49 PM   #4
David Fried
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So all these years later I finally get the true essence of the Wel-Met experience. We were all part of the Borg ... We all share one collective memory , all one collective experience. Doesn't matter what unit , what year, what lake , what western trip. It's all the same, just say Gorilla Balls , or GaGa or peach basket... everyone has the same vision, instantly you are thrust back in time and the sound and smells , the visions are all there like it was yesterday.
But what makes it Borg is it's the same for everyone. At an early reunion Kenny Sapon said as we were all sharing stories , wait , "that really happened" and with the next story, "that's true" "i thought I made that shit up" , nope just part of the wel-met borg!!
That's what Al is talking about and Spider and on and on... It's why we never leave ...
Long Live The Wel-Met Borg!!! Love ya all !!!
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Old 11-06-2012, 12:43 PM   #5
Michael Ohlstein
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I usually went home with a frog or two.....
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