According to psychologists, photographs can jog our memories, but at times they can also replace them. We THINK we remember what happened, but what is real? And what is re-imagined? This might be particular true for old photos and old memories. On the other hand, photographs of our old selves at Nebagamon — the kinds of snapshots that get immortalized in spiral-bound books in the living room of the Big House — are priceless reminders of moments. We may not remember them exactly, but we treasure them. So The Keylog asked a handful of camp alumni to recall what they can about interesting old photos:
KEN KANTER (Chicago/Cincinnati 62-66, 69-76)
From sideburns to striped pants to finding a nice flat location in the Axeman Village for a brilliant cabin photo, this picture says it all. These were the days (1971) when cleverness (if not the ability to actually discern the faces in a photo) was of utmost concern when staging a cabin pic. After lengthy discussion about what and where this picture should be, the cabin finally agreed to my suggestion to spell it out on the ground. If we had been in The Annex, the idea would have been impractical. But A-2? We could do that—although we probably could have used a Swamper camper for the hyphen!
GRANT CHUKERMAN (Highland Park, IL 06-11, 14)
That picture is of me and Alex Froy, my cabinmate in Logger 3 in 2007. Our counselor, Phil Yenawine, was a man of legendary size. We decided it would be funny to build a GTC skit around two of us fitting into one pair of his clothes. My cabinmates and I adopted bad British accents and pretended to be billionaires or something along those lines. It made no sense. It ended with Phil running in from the Axeman porch as we tried to run away. Predictably, trying to run with two people fitting into one shirt and pair of shorts didn’t go well, and we got our first laugh of the skit as we stumbled and dragged each other off stage.
KYLE HOPKINS (Kansas City 02-06, 08-09, 12)
In my first summer at Camp Nebagamon I was put in charge of the fishing program because I had spent chunks of my childhood 
with family on majestic fishing trips in the BWCA. It turns out that it is actually much more important that the head of fishing possesses a versatile set of knot untangling skills. But as the summer cruised along, I found out that we had access to “The Keeper”, and if we headed out during the afternoon project periods, I would find a few minutes to drop a line. On the day this photo was taken, we were back in the little bay in the northeast corner of the lake and all was calm on the pontoon boat. No tangles. Nobody in need of a juicy earthworm. Everybody staring at the water waiting for the strike of a keeper.
I had a reel in my hand and had attached one of my favorite little Rapala lures to the line. The boat turned and I was facing the shore, looking at a little patch of lily pads in the shade. The opportunity was too good to pass up so I cast out my line and landed right where I wanted to. I started to reel in and — BAM! — the line got hit hard. The fight was on. After all the kids reeled in their lines, all eyes were on me. The head of fishing is supposed to know how to catch a fish, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess this up – especially if it ended up being a six-inch bluegill at the end of my line.
The bass made it into the net, and it was a beautiful fish. It was so fun to share that experience with the fishing staff and the kids on the boat – including a super-happy Jimmy Scharff. Chet Wallenstein was running the kitchen that summer so he cooked the fish up for me for dinner — with a little cucumber salad. I cannot remember a more satisfying meal in the Rec Hall.
MICHAEL BERLER (San Francisco 12-16, 18)
After two of the best weeks of my life in the Quetico Provincial Park, Matthew Campbell led the way into Lake Nebagamon holding our ever-present American flag. The half-dozen boys around me had become some of my closest friends in the world as we paddled in the incredible wilderness of the Quetico, and the smiles on our faces were some of the most genuine smiles of my life—nothing short of absolute joy!
BRIAN KRAMER (East Troy, WI/Highland Park, IL 88-93, 95-00)
It was 1999… I was a counselor in LJ-1 and led the sailing project. Tony Coletta and Todd Blatt were the waterfront directors that summer, and we were always finding ways to get a rise out of each other with different pranks while down on the waterfront. Tony’s “colorful” use of the English language always made my pranks even more rewarding, and I may have taken one of the pranks a bit too far. I have visions of Tony’s catamaran sailboat mysteriously floating away the day before my bed ended up on the raft, but likely just a coincidence…
JON GERSTEIN (Highland Park, IL/Northbrook, IL 83-88, 89, 94)
The first thought I had was “Man, I was a good looking kid. What happened?” If I had to guess what I was thinking at the time, I’d probably say, “This is so cool. I’m teaching sailing. There’s no other place I’d rather be right now, other than on the lake, of course.”