For me, the Rec Hall represents the heart of camp, a place where so much of the best of Nebagamon is bolstered. Traditions and memories are maintained. Creativity and humor are encouraged. Achievements are celebrated. Friendships are strengthened. The camp community is fortified.
Much like the brimming plates of food that the KPs retrieve from the kitchen, the Rec Hall brims with inspiring scenes and moments and memories. So picking my favorite aspects of the Rec Hall experience… particularly after it was all made more vivid because Covid precautions meant that the summer of 2021 was the Summer Without a Rec Hall… well, that’s a tough task.
It could be the sea of smiling faces that I get to witness every morning, every midday, and every evening—the playful interaction among friends as cabins coalesce around the table. All in one place, I get to watch counselors and campers in action, albeit the chew-and-chatter variety. And rare is the unsmiling face, particularly around dessert time.
Then again, I really love the action in the form of the back-and-forth from the tables to the kitchen counter. Often, I think to myself how some parents would marvel at seeing the efforts of their 11-year-old son as he brings black a platter of grilled cheese sandwiches or fills a water pitcher or scrapes the plates and carries the stack back to the kitchen. It is a parade of responsible young men.
And those responsible young men get to have a glimpse of the hard work put forth by the members of the kitchen staff. So it is particularly heartening when I see a Logger pick up a plate of food and offer a thanks and a smile. Some parents would probably marvel at that, too.
But I also love the post-meal experience in the form of announcements. I’m always amazed at how a possibly shy young man can stand in front of 200-plus peers and ooze confidence and imagination. It’s not easy to do that. And it’s certainly not easy to find an unexpected or exciting way to tell the camp family about another offer of tie-dying or field hockey or push ball. Events like Cruiser Days and Wannado and A.K. Agikamik can be especially fun fodder for such creativity. Madison Avenue could probably learn a few things once in a while from teenagers trying to inspire their younger peers.
Of course, there is also the combination of creativity and tradition in the form of the big trip plaques that decorate the walls of the Rec Hall… as well as the ceiling of the LJ porch these days. Somehow, every wilderness crew comes up with a way of memorializing a seminal moment in their young lives in a new and quirky way. This might mean something like “Let The Wild Rumpus Begin” (Quetico, 2011)… or it might be a 1983 Long Trip memorial that consists of a long plaque, the word “TRIP,” and simply: “We Paddle, We Eat, We Sleep.” Sometimes you convey more with less.
And there are also the names engraved on the various other plaques and trophies. They are celebrations of accomplishment, whether it’s an O-Cup or Aus Cup or Horse-n-Goggle Tournament. But they are also reminders of what we at Nebagamon prioritize: effort. Awards like the Broken Racquet and the Broken Kickboard are about kids who may struggle to succeed, but who shine in their determination. So I love those, too.
I also love the events that take place in the Rec Hall. Sometimes, on rainy days, this means a Sunday Service or Council Fire or a visit from A.K. But always (at least pre-Covid) this has meant GTCs. And for decades, this has been the place where the camp family’s talents and courage converge. Over the years, we’ve all seen the musicians and magicians and jugglers and joke-tellers and on and on and on. And I have yet to see a reaction from the camp family that wasn’t appreciative and encouraging, particularly when the youngest campers take the stage. That puts the goodness in Good Time Charlie.
But if I’m being honest, it may be that my favorite Rec Hall scenes are those not-infrequent moments of spontaneity and raucousness. Maybe Axeman 2 erupts in a silly song about taco salad. Or campers and counselors suddenly form a conga line. Or a row of Lumberjacks at the back of the GTC audience swing their shirts and scream their lungs out—“Fire! Fire! Fire!”—while singing “One Dark Night.”
Impulsive exuberance in the Rec Hall. It nourishes the soul. And I eat that stuff up.
