(AND ALL OF YOU)
I was asked by the Keylog editor and the Hanson-Kaplans to write a remembrance of Nardie – in the context, of course, of Camp Nebagamon, so here goes:
We met in 1949, and it would be easy to say, “I immediately knew this was the guy for me.” So I’ll say it. I knew it – and he was. A Nebagamon counselor, Bud Pollack of Fort Wayne, Indiana, introduced us in 1949 (long before many of you were born,) and we were together a lot, though not exclusively, in the ensuing years, until I left St. Louis for the University of Michigan and Nard completed college at Washington University and was immediately drafted.
People’s courtships are generally only of interest to themselves, and sometimes their children, so I will skip that part only to say that we spent some extended time together in the interim, and it became clear to both of us that we felt deeply committed to each other. My father, Muggs, also figured that out because he wrote a letter to Nardie in Japan. In the note, he invited him to consider a career in camping. Nardie knew nothing of Nebagamon or its kind of camp. As a boy he went to Scout camps, followed by time at Boy Scout’s national camp, Philmont. There he distinguished himself by volunteering to walk a lame donkey down the mountain to base camp, only to see the donkey trot away on his supposed lame leg, delighted to shed his role as a pack animal.
Nardie spent 18 months as a cryptographer at the US Army’s Far East headquarters in Japan and really made the most of it. He returned to the states just as I graduated from four great years at Michigan, and we became (publicly) engaged. He first laid eyes on Camp Nebagamon on a rainy spring day in June. Soon thereafter, he became the senior counselor in Swamper 1, where he experienced up close what this camp was all about. He began considering whether he wanted to become, as Muggs proposed, the next director of camp. *Author’s note: I had been slated to become “the director’s WIFE” (Harrumph!) and immediately began to redefine my title and role. However, especially when our three children were young, their welfare took precedence over my role at camp, which was rather invisible, centering on the business side of our venture, as well as the food service and accounting. I was not often publicly active (except on the tennis courts).
We learned our craft while understudying the Lorbers for several years and decided to bravely move forward. Both of us were aware that Nard was slated to be compared to and fill the shoes of the famed Muggs Lorber. We talked a lot about that. I assured him that he probably would not be able to replicate him – and perhaps should not even try. Instead, he should walk in his own shoes, do it his own way, using all of the intrinsic qualities he already possessed. And so he did! He paid close attention to Muggs’s training and watched what worked and what didn’t…
Nardie’s utilized his intelligence, quick wit, intuitiveness, and ability to closely listen to a camper or staff member. He always considered what was best for a camper and for the institution. His respect for everyone involved was a quality that led to early success. He also loved the land – the physical plant – and was very interested in its maintenance, also participating in it when time allowed. Nardie started every day at the workshop, conferring with the maintenance staff about priorities. He was not afraid to plunge toilets or clean up messes himself, feeling that he should do what he might need to ask of others. It was apparent to me that he was feeling stressed when I saw him trimming trees in order to “raise the canopy” – to help them thrive, symbolic of what he hoped to do for campers and staff..
With a few years under our belts, Nardie and I felt it was time to change and/or modify several aspects of camp. We enlarged each cabin enough to give counselors their own private space, upgraded many facilities, such as roofs, blinds, docks, boats, tennis courts, and hills subject to erosion. When we assumed directorship, campers had one project period a day, and many of the projects had no ranks. We asked most of the projects to add achievable ranks, ones that could give kids a tangible sense of accomplishment and self-confidence. And we wanted the older campers to be challenged to achieve an Instructor rank, preparing them for leadership roles .We also expanded the tripping program to include hiking and cycling and increased the wilderness trip staff from 3 to 18. Also, as academic years shortened, we realized that an eight-week season was no longer feasible in some communities, so we offered a four-week option, starting with the 4th grade in 1974 and offering it to 5th graders in 1975, progressing a grade every year. This was a business decision that was quickly adopted by most of the Midwest camps similar to ours.
This creative approach to camp was indicative of Nardie’s personal quality as a truly creative man. Once retired, he spent many hours in his garage workshop. He liked to “make something out of nothing.” We often walked on Lake Superior beaches seeking pieces of wood appropriate for walking sticks. The one he carried was a piece of art and now a family heirloom. He carved into the thick wooden stick the names and dates of places in the world where he and I had hiked. He made similar pieces to give to needy friends for temporary or permanent use and also donated pieces for the Lake Nebagamon auctions, supporting the town library and other local charities.
Nard also collected and used pieces of wood still underwater in Lake Nebagamon, remnants of the Weyerhaeuser mill site. From these, he created plaques on to which he placed collages of scrap tiles, corks, and occasional feathers that we had gathered on walks. The driftwood plaques also supported arrangements of old fishing lures, honoring his and Muggs’s friendships with first year camper, Alan “Hoss” Mayer. One of these plaques hangs in the camp Fish Shack, and many of them are treasures hanging in our Lake Nebagamon home. Our daughter Jane Kerr brought one to hang on the wall of each hospital room housing Nardie during his many months of hospitalization.
So here’s most of the formula that made Nardie so fondly remembered and allowed Camp Nebagamon to flourish: The convergence of:
The right person (Nardie) at
The right time (in the social fabric)
The right campers (almost all of you) at
The right time (in your developmental life)
At the right camp (she said modestly) with
The right ex-director (Muggs: “There’s a destiny that guides us”) and later
The next right co-directors to succeed him (Nardie: “This shall be a place of welcome for all”)
And I am quite sure that the next directors, the Wallensteins and the Hanson-Kaplans also became part of that formula.
How lucky can you get? As his health declined, Nardie expressed his comfort in knowing that what he did in life really mattered. You alumni told us that many times through emails, letters, and in-person encounters. He also told us repeatedly that he had been a lucky man. I thank all of you so much for helping him know that.
Bernard “Nardie” Stein, a totally devoted leader, is remembered with fondness and
even love, especially by his wife and partner,
Sally Lorber Stein