Lessons from 463 Summerhill Road

On June 23, 1987, my parents pulled the Grand Wagoneer into the driveway of 463 Summerhill Rd. It was my first summer at Camp Laurelwood in Madison, CT. Mom and Dad set me up in Boys Bunk 6, said goodbye and I joined my bunkmates in a game of stoop ball until we were called to lunch (tuna melts).

I spent the next ten summers at camp as both a camper and staff member, ultimately ascending to Inter Boys Division Leader. And they ALWAYS served tuna melts on the first day. I recognize that summer camp, even non-profit Jewish summer camp with a slightly socialist bent, is a privilege. It played a formidable role in who I am as a person. My wife benefitted from a similar experience, and we made the decision to dig deep financially and make summer camp a part of our children’s lives.

We are raising our family six miles from my wife’s childhood home. To give them exposure to my childhood experiences, they are second generation Camp Laurelwood campers. A great deal has changed since my time on campus, but traditions, stories and the mildew smell remain. Amazingly, Ken Yaffe, who served as Boys Head Counselor during my time is still in the role and refers to both of my children as “Little Levine.”

The 2020 season was cancelled because of COVID, but my kids will head to camp this weekend, and I wanted to share my top five lessons from 463 Summerhill Rd.

1.   It’s not worth winning if you are not a good sport. I wish I could tell you that I honed my athletic prowess during my time at camp. What I did develop was the ability to win and lose gracefully.

2.   The dignity of dirty work. I still use the cleaning skills I learned during our morning bunk housekeeping time. I am diligent about changing sheets once a week. In addition, during my time as a lifeguard, Lisa Sidella taught me the concept of “time to lean, time to clean.” If I was not in the chair, I was cleaning out filters, skimming the pool or cleaning toilets.

3.   Love wholeheartedly. I had my first serious girlfriend at camp. We tried the long-distance thing. Broke up a few months later, got back together the first night of camp the next summer. I learned a lot from that experience. Incidentally, we found ourselves working a few feet from each other in our first post college professional roles. No, we did not end up getting together again!

4.   You pay the piper in the morning. Staff curfew was 12:30 AM and wakeup call was 7:15 AM. Whether it was waking up with a hangover from too much beer at The Place or a foggy brain from a joint in the parking lot of Guilford Diner, wake up came right on schedule. And the kids had energy and were ready to go.

5.   Rise and face the tennis courts. Whenever we sang Hatikvah (the Israeli national anthem) we were instructed to rise and face the tennis courts (East towards Israel). My connection to G-d and Judaism was strengthened during those summer-time singalongs. When I find myself feeling prayerful, the prankster in the back of my brain utters, “please rise and face the tennis courts.”

So many of my formative moments happened at 463 Summerhill Rd. The Hebrew phrase l’dor v’dor translates to “from one generation to the next.” I am pleased that my children will also be shaped by Laurelwood. L’dor v’dor.