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?

Where we are accepted?

Chris Rock’s character in the “MotherF**ker with the Hat” said your only true friends are the ones you make from when you’re five to when you’re around 18. That is possibly one of the best lines ever said on the stage or anywhere else.

Over the few last weeks, I realized I’ve only been truly accepted in two places, the Boy Scouts of America and as a member of Tau Epsilon Phi at SUNY New Paltz. Or not. Yes, Chris Rock is so right. However, you can still do okay once you’re a little or much older. But things change.

I joined the BSA in 1978. It was a great year, the Yankees were the World Champions. In 1983, I spent my first summer on Chappegat Hill (aka “Chappy”). I’ve never been more accepted than I was at Chappy. Those were the best years of my life. I learned so much and made some of my best friends.

I became a member of Tau Epsilon Phi’s (TEP) Tau Eta Epsilon’s chapter at SUNY New Paltz, fall ’89. I was asked to pledge within minutes after I set foot on campus.
I am still friends with dozens of the people from camp and TEP. The frat boys and I have regular gatherings with our sorority sisters from Delta Phi Epsilon. But I have branched out.

One thing I’ve noticed is it is different from when I was growing up from the elementary school days through the college days. In those days all my friends were in the same age group. These days the friendships range from my age range, younger to ancient.

I sometimes wonder if this ok? Like years ago, who would want to hang out with people our parents’ age or those even older? It is fine. It opens one’s mind. You can learn a lot. I’ve heard so much about Brooklyn back in the day when a sandwich and coke were about 35 cents. For about $3 you could have wild and crazy day at Coney Island.

Let’s jump away from Chris Rock and move over to one of my teenage “spokespersons,” Martin L. Gore. There are many interpretations of “People are People”. However, we can all agree that Depeche Mode was trying to sing about us getting along. I know there’s more to it. Maybe in another post, I will dig in deeper. However, for now this works.

When I was in politics we would party nearly every night and the age range went from 18 – 75. Yeah, people of similar age groups sort of stayed together. But it made no difference. We were all together. That group is gone. But that’s politics.

Now I am involved with some many groups of people from all over the world. So maybe I hit the deeper meaning of the DM song. I guess people are people and I can be accepted in lots of places.

Nicknames

We all have nicknames. They are given to us by our parents, friends, enemies and who knows whom else? Mine include Vampire, Bat and Shlepion, those were given to me in my camp, Chappegat Hill, Ten Mile River Scout Camps, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At New Paltz my Tau Epsilon Phi pledge name was, Fudd. My frat jacket has my name sewn into it. This blog is named after my Vigil name; Alhaquot Aptonen interpreted as Stormy Speaker. That’s because I spoke with bolts of lightning when I played Meteu, the medicine man and how I served as Allowat Sakima, mighty chief of the Lodge, Aquehongian Lodge #112.

I love all of these names. I am stilled call many. Doesn’t bother me. Then there are the nicknames people earned or were given for not such happy reasons.

In camp everyone had one. Some were funny. Some were “insulting”. But we were kids. We had the Dentist, Space Ace, Dudley Brain Dead, Space Ace, Fireball, Bubba, Rock-N-Roll and thousands of others. No we had millions of others. Bucket Butt, the Porn Star., the Office Girl (he cleans buckets), etc. We often took people’s real names and made ever so slight changes.

Let’s talk about a few of these people.

The Dentist. I named him in ’87 or ’88. To this day, I do not know what is given name is. My assistant scoutmaster (ASM) and I were on the Kunatah Ball Field. My ASM has many nicknames. I gave him a few. Some came from things “my leader” did to him in the dark ages. My leader could be a novel or a movie. One day. I learned so much from him. I am who I am in many ways because of his teachings.

Back to the Dentist, I said to the ASM that’s “the Dentist”. The kid was getting ready to play ball. Just like any other young scout. My ASM said, “why”? I said look at him. He has a toothbrush in his mouth. This kid always had a toothbrush in his mouth. Hence, the name, the Dentist.

I got my vampire and bat names in 1983. It was my first morning in camp. I woke up an hour or two before wake up call. I sat on the picnic table and stared at the snake in the tank. I was near the “Palace”, our office. My ASM was just getting up. He saw me. I was 12. He was very old at the time, around 47. But we all thought he was a hundred. Now he is 300.

He asked if I was ok? I was fine. This continued throughout the summer. They nicknamed me “Vampire”. I never slept in camp. I used to roam around.

Space Ace was from Erph. There’s nothing more to say about him. He was nice kid. He was a little spacey. We called him Space Ace. He would retort, I am from Erph. I am not.

All of the aforementioned, sans the Dentist were in my Troop 521 / 721. I knew nothing about him. Other than he walked around all day with a toothbrush in his mouth.

Some of the names were given because the kids were your traditional awkward teenagers. We were shipped off to Boy Scout camp. Some of us loved it. Some us couldn’t wait to go home. I think you know where I stand. We all took our share of abuse. That was back in the day when you were allowed to do that. It made us men. It made us laugh. It made us cry. There are some stories about camp that happened years later that I will always cry about.

As for Rock-N-Roll, he was one of Camp Kunatah’s staffers. Kunatah was one of TMR’s camps. It was the kosher section. Chappy at one point had been its own camp. Eventually became part of Kunatah. Chappy closed after ’88. Kunatah closed a few years later. Sad.

Back to Rock-N-Roll. He was in his early 20s. He's a strange cat. He used to yell at me for driving the Truckster, the Chappy station wagon over 2 MPH on the camp roads. We were able to go much faster. But he would freak. I was 17 and had my license for a few months. I loved the Truckster. I used to blast U2 and Depeche Mode, as I cruised along.

Rock-N-Roll would stand on the podium in the dining hall during meals and rock-n-roll on it. In other words, he bounced back and forth. One day my ASM pulled his socks down. We wore those goofy, way too big green scout socks. I hated them. I still have a few pairs hidden away. Last time I wore them was maybe 20 years ago.

One day, the Porn Star, he was an alumnus from years ago teased R&R. He would come up every summer and hang out with us. He’s in great shape. Rock-N-Roll was rocking and rolling. The Porn Star made some comment. R&R replied back, “I know you weren’t talking about me”? The Porn Star yells back, “Yes, I was”.

Poor R&R almost fell off the podium. Laughter burst out in the dining hall.
One day his parents came to visit. We were playing ultimate Frisbee on the ball field. He proudly told his mom and dad about us. We had out own site and did our own programming. We did much more than the other kids in camp and advanced much faster.
It started to rain. We had a tradition, if it started to rain during ultimate, we would play in our underwear. I have no idea why. Some of us played in nothing. R&R was ready to keel over.

Anyway, nicknames are fun. We all have them. We must live with them.

I have a few dear friends that every day we send hundreds of emails and texts back and forth reminiscing about these great times.

Respectfully submitted,

The Vampire

There are places I remember

There are places I remember “There are places I remember, though some have changed.” I think we all have those places. But only a select few have the Hill: Chappegat Hill (Chappy). It is located in Ten Mile River Scout Camp, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At one time it had been its own camp. When I was there it was part of Camp Kunatah. Chappy closed after the summer of ’88. Kunatah closed several years later. TMR is still running. But not at the capacity it used to. A few weeks ago, a brush fire hit Chappy. Other areas north of the hill were also hit. None of us Chappy campers knew the extent of the damage. We were told the man-made structures (there were not many left) survived. A few days ago, someone known as my leader went up to camp to do some work for the TMR Museum. Naturally, he went to Chappy. A visit to TMR is not a visit if you don’t spend time on the Hill. He saw first hand how this brush fire devastated the remains of the childhood stomping grounds of countless Scouts. He reported back to the individual that served as the chairman of the Troop committee and assistant scoutmaster during the summer camp season. Immediately an email was sent to our scoutmaster and myself. We were devastated. Within a few hours our, ASM sent an email to dozens of former campers. Now some of us are still in touch with each other on a daily basis. Some of us haven’t been in touch in years. But as soon at that email went out everyone was in tears. For us, Chappy is where we grew up. Hundreds upon hundreds of emails flew. We were all devastated. We all started talking about our favorite Chappy moments. These moments included famous camp sayings, activities and more important our teen friendships. I brought up my memories of being the camp vampire. I used to stay up all night. Very often, I would sit at the picnic table by the Palace (the office) in the wee hours of the night. We talked about our famous dead fish fights on our canoe trips. You see our SM would pile up dead fish into his canoe. Anyone who paddled by was fair game to be whacked in the head, chest, or limbs with a dead fish. Other memories included movie night usually the mindless 80s movies. Of course, I own many of them and watch them religiously. We talked about our famous Action Park trips. I fell off the Alpine slide in ’86. We talked about the red stuff that our favorite Italian restaurant, El Monaco’s, poured onto everything, even the salad. The red stuff was their marinara sauce. Across from El Monaco’s was Candy Cone. A cute little ice cream shack with two broken video games. I visited in 1999. It was still the same. Sadly, these places, like our Hill are gone. In 1984, I scored the winning run for the Sigh Figh Space Gators patrol. We won the softball game and that run put us over the top and made us the Chappy Olympic champs. I still have my Gold Medal. In ’85 a few campers and I made much fun of the kid that used to eat his feet. To punish us, our SM made us clean up the whole blow out party. We spent the night cleaning the dining hall and scrubbing lots of pots. We had a great time. Over the last few days, we all shared timeless memories. Of course one particular area we talked about was the latrine. The camp staff torched the precious latrine shortly after camp closed. But in our minds it is still our hub. One camper spent his entire summer sitting on his seat. It was his social network. This was way before Facebook or Linkedin. Well I can go on for thousands of pages. But you get the point. We love camp. We are saddened by the recent turn of events. But maybe it is for the better. We are not there anymore. Our memories will live forever. Nature will rebuild this beautiful site. One day, some of us will take our kids to see where we grew up. It’ll look different. But our spirit will be felt.