The End of my Childhood?

Yes, I want to write more fiction on this blog. There’s some. I even have writing that has really been published due to contests I won.

But now is the time to talk about my childhood, which well in terms of my age it has been over for many years. Too many. But the things we hold onto sometimes stay around.

Sadly in my case they are all gone.

As you may know, I was chief of Aquehongian Lodge #112. That’s Staten Island’s Order of the Arrow (OA) lodge. The OA is an honor society of campers within the Boy Scouts. In April my Lodge is closing down. Well it is not really closing. They are merging the other four NYC lodges with us into one NYC lodge. It is a plan that has been in the works for more years than I’ve been alive. Membership in Scouting is not great. So yes, this will help preserve the OA spirit in the City. But it crushes me.

Some kids grew up in little league. I grew up in the Boy Scouts. That was on Staten Island and in my favorite place in the whole world, Chappegat Hill, Ten Mile River Scout Camps, Narrowsburg, N.Y. I spent all my teen summers there. I was a camper and a member of the staff.

My section of camp was closed in ’88. Other sections remain. But they are not Chappy. Sadly it was closed because the “professional” scout staff was not willing to make the required repairs to our site. I use the term professional loosely. There is not much professional about them.

Repairs were need on the camp’s last tip pan latrine. That precious building is where so many scouts took their first camp showers, scrubbed it down when they were members of the service patrol and got smacked with water balloons. That’s when we staff members gathered everyone around it to yell at them for it being dirty. As we were yelling some of us launched more water balloons than one could counts. We also dumped buckets of ice cold water all over each other. No it was not abuse. The weather was steaming

I miss every last minute of Chappy. I made some of my best friends there. They include “My Leader,” my “Oracle,” “Rodney”, “Booger” and many others.

Now back to Aquehongian Lodge #112. Taking my OA ordeal was one of my favorite things. My dad was chief of the soon to be defunct Shu Shu Gah Lodge # 24, Brooklyn. We are both Vigil Honor members. That’s the highest honor you can get. My Vigil name is Alhaquot Aptonen, Stormy Speaker the namesake of this blog. His is Shattek, Younger Brother. I’m Eagle. He’s not. I won….

After passing my ordeal, I immediately joined the ritual team. Now they call it the ICE (Inductions, Ceremonies and Events) team. They keep getting more and more politically correct.

The ordeals used to be rough. Now it is like spending a weekend at the country club. I didn’t eat on mine. Now the candidates get food. I couldn’t talk. Now kids carry iPads. Enough. Things change.

As ritual team member, I played many parts. We dressed up as Lenni Lenape, Delaware Indians. We wore war paint. I was Meteu, the medicine man of the circle in induction ceremonies. I was Allowat Sakima, mighty chief of the circle in the Brotherhood ceremony. The Vigil inductions remain secretive. But I was in those too.

I became ritual team chairman. I won the Lodge Chief, Netami Sakima election. In my first election my opponent got two votes. I got like 50. The next year, I ran unopposed. I had to be publications chairman at the same time. I admit I was somewhat of a dictator. But I love my Lodge so much. I could not let anything go wrong. I was chief of our 50th Anniversary. Our last meeting as a Lodge will be the 75th Anniversary party in March. I hope we get a good crowd. My meetings were always packed.

I remember the day my friends and I were building the induction fires and went to Berlin Lodge in Pouch Scout Camp to get lunch. The ritual team did not associate with anyone else. We were bound to each other. We were a major clique. We walked down the trail and saw a Cubmaster letting his Cubs swim in Orbach Lake. No swimming was allowed at the time. We yelled at them and made them come out.

We ate and walked back. We saw the Cubmaster, who admitted he couldn’t swim in the lake up to his knees screaming the names of two kids. Naturally, I was wearing a bathing suit. I tossed off my shirt and sneakers. My other ritual team members did the same. We jumped into the lake and led the Lifesaving merit badge lost bathers drill. We pulled one killed out. The ambulance rushed him off to the hospital. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive.

We were told the other kid ran out of the lake. So we set up a massive search all day and night. I did my Vigil induction that night. My dad came. I was so proud. But he pulled me off to the side and said the FDNY pulled the other kid out of the lake. He drowned.

Back to happiness. I spent that summer in camp. It was Chappy’s last summer. Not happy. It was quite memorable. We went to Cooperstown, Action Park and Dorney Park during Super Week. Of course, we hiked to the Delaware and Ten Mile Rivers a lot. I survived Action Park that summer. The year before, I fell off the Alpine Side. The right side of my face was a mess. But it never did break out. I credit my fall for that. It was my fault. I was riding to fast. I got yelled at by the park’s staff. I didn’t listen.

A few days ago my uncle passed away. He was 93.5. I know this doesn’t fit with the aforementioned scouting stuff. But in some ways maybe it fits with the end of my childhood. I am quite upset. I can’t say I knew him superwell. But I always called. I rarely saw him. But sometimes I did. Not often enough. He was one of 7 kids. He’s the last of them.

He and his brothers were pure Brooklyn. Nothing is better than that. They were called the “boys”. They are all gone. I remember hearing so many stories about them growing up. Some were gone before I arrived on Earth.

A few years ago his older brother passed away. I was supposed to go to the funeral. I never made it. Sadly, other things were planned for me the day before. Everyone understands why I missed it. There was no way I could have made it.

At the funeral I went to over the weekend, I saw the grave of the uncle whose funeral I missed. I always felt a little bad for not going to his funeral. Yes, I could have visited the grave anytime. But never did. In some ways this is sort of closure. Of course, I will never have that.

So as I think back about my camp and Lodge, I will always have my memories and friends.

So is my childhood over? Is my adulthood starting? Or neither?