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June 9, 2009 - Theresa Proudfit
Camp Batawagama. Great idea for a blog Burt.  It was my first big adventure.  A whole week on my own. My first experience with independence from my family and I'm pretty sure my mothers first nervous breakdown. I was not a cheater.  I shared my first year of camp with a bunch of wise, devoted, tight-lipped friends and I was queen of the gullible.  I listened and listened for the Old Indian Chief to speak to me, but  I was the last one at shore wondering why I couldn't hear him.  I spent several years at  Camp Batawagama  hiking, canoeing, camping, windsurfing and making crazy crafts. I secretly loved getting up early for swim lessons. I had been in the water dogging paddleing before, but my breast stroke was mastered at camp. I loved the mess hall.  Singing  the songs "SUR  GE  RY,  SUR  GE  RY, first you slice and then you stitch, cut it out and you'll be rich... or  "Mountain Dew yeah hoo, them that refuse it are few wah hoo wah hoo wah hoo.... And of course my first boy/girl dance.  My "camp boyfriend" Kevin and I wrote letters to each other for a year after camp. Ten years later I ran into him at a college campfire at Sugar Loaf Mountain.  I swear he looked exactly the same.  Camp Batawagama was one of my greatest experiences as a child  and I almost think it should be a requirement for all children. Day is Done, Gone the sun....


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