Meredith Heaton
I remember the first day that I saw Camp Camilla. I was only nine years old but I remember it very well. It is a special memory to me for both of my parents were there with me. I was only thirteen when my mother passed away so every memory with her seems sharper somehow. Camp Camilla is an old Great Camp in the Adirondack Mountains. Back in the early 1900's, some of the elite from New York City bought up hundreds of acres in the Adirondacks to build their own version of “roughing it” in the great outdoors, complete with gigantic rustic lodges, man made lakes stocked with fish, individual cabins for each family of guests, separate structures for bowling alleys and game houses, tennis courts and a large and capable staff to see to their every need. All in the middle of the woods far from any other settlement. Camp Camilla was among the nicest of these camps.
My father inherited the land and structures from his uncle when he died. Father was to oversee it and wanted to visit the place where he had spent summers with his aunt and uncle as a child. My father's aunt, Camilla, still lived on the property but was getting older and wanted Father to manage it for her. Father was a favorite of both Camilla and his uncle and they had both long wished for him to inherit. Father hadn't visited Camp Camilla since his college days at Stanford University. His work and marriage had kept him from traveling far from home though his uncle visited us at our home shortly before his death.
My mother was not happy to spend so much time on the road. Her health had steadily declined since my birth. She had developed tuberculosis as a child. She was born in the days before Alexander Fleming's happy accident produced the first antibiotics in the 1940's. There was not much available for treatment of TB except lots of rest and ample food. She spent over a year in a sanatorium in Tucson, Arizona to be treated. The warm, dry air and healthy meals healed her of the tuberculosis but the damage done to her lungs was permanent. She was tired often and it was a rare day when she was able to play with me. Her lungs were weak and often she had to sit down to catch her breath when she would take me on walks. Despite all of this she was a lovely person. She loved to smile and laugh with Dad and I. There were days that were harder for her than others.
Mother was concerned that the drive from our home in Hartford, Connecticut was too far for her to travel. She had heard the descriptions of some of the roads we would have to travel, that Dad had traveled down as a boy with ruts and mud. Dad told her to stay behind to rest and he would take me alone. She protested and insisted on accompanying us. She did enjoy an adventure and she insisted on joining us after protesting that I was too frail to go so far as well. Mother was convinced from the time I was small that I was going to die at an early age. As much as I loved her, I hated that she thought me so weak. She had always suffered from a tired, frail body and she assumed that I would suffer from the same. From the time I was young I knew that I did not have this same ailment. I was always the strongest girl in my class at school and could run for miles without losing my breath. I gave up trying to convince her that I was not a weakling. As the years passed I realized that my mother had reason to fear for me for my brother died in his crib shortly after his first birthday and she was unable to have any more children after me. But back then I felt only contempt for her overprotective worrying.
The trip from our home to Camp Camilla in the Adirondack Mountains took a very long time in those days. It amazes me today that I can make the same trip in just over four hours. The roads nowadays are so smooth and clear. One of the favorite improvements in the course of my lifetime has been the influx of well maintained roads. The only luxury to the long hours in the car was having all of that time with my father and mother alone. Our driver, Kenneth, navigated those winding roads with ease leaving the three of us in the backseat to talk and laugh together. These were the days before seat-belt laws and we lounged lazily together in the wide bench seat. Dad would let me lay on his legs with my hair streaming out and mother would sit on the other side of him and stroke my face and hair until I fell asleep. I would awake to them talking softly together, trying not to wake me up. I would easily settle back to sleep and listen to their tender words with a warm feeling in my heart. For all the years since that time I have gone back to those moments to visit them both, to remember what it was to be loved by two parents so dear to me and imagine the big engine roaring us through the winding roads to Camp Camilla.
My dad was very busy with his business and was home for only a short time in the evenings and on weekends, he and Mother would go out on the town. These nights were spent alone with my books or watching television on the new color television that they had purchased. I was the first of my friends to have one, though I didn't tell anyone about it. I had very few friends in those days. Perhaps it was being raised by two sensible people or my status as an only child but I found other girls my age very silly. I would rather sit and watch my classmates interact, and analyze their behavior. I spent many hours just listening to people, trying to figure out why they did what they did, a fact that would later lead me to a career in psychology and counseling. It seemed a more sensible way to conduct myself than the usual pastime of young girls. I also had many dolls, one for each of my birthdays that I would line up and talk to. I acted out stories of my own imagining and spent hours in my own little world. It was only later that I realized that I was a lonely child. I was perfectly content on my own.
My only companions on the nights my parents were out, were my nanny, Elsie, and my dog, Little Joe, who I named after the youngest of the Cartwright brothers from my favorite TV show, Bonanza. The only full day and night I spent with my parents each week was Sunday. It was my favorite day of the week. We would start the day by attending church and end it with watching Bonanza. Our house was full of luxuries like the color television, which in those days was out of reach for most people financially but I wished all the time that my parents would stay home with me more. I craved time with them. Without any siblings to play with, alone time with my parents was my favorite pastime and I looked forward to it more than anything else.
We arrived at Camp Camilla right before sunset. It was my first visit and I couldn't imagine such a place really existed amid the surrounding forest of birch and hemlock and red maple. The camp was miles from anywhere. The road to the camp was long from the main road. A gate stopped us at the entrance and Kenneth got out to open it. He pulled through then got back out to shut the gate behind the car. Dad said that the road was eight miles long but it seemed longer to me as we were jostled to and fro by the ruts in the road and I was anxious to arrive. The forest was beautiful in the filtered light. The green canopies of deciduous trees stretching for miles in all directions. It felt as if we were entering a lost fairy world, surrounded by nymphs and dryads of my mythology books. The forest was not dark in the sunshine and light distilled down through the trees.
What greeted us at the end of the road was striking and amazing. Such a sight in the middle of the forest didn't seem possible. We emerged from the trees and came upon the entrance to the camp and were met by the grandest barn I had ever seen, though I never imagined that it was a barn when I first saw it. It more closely resembled a castle fortification with high walls, thirty or forty feet tall. It fit well into the landscape and looked as if it had grown up out of the ground rather than been constructed. The stone walls looked like the pictures of medieval castles from my story books with curved arches over the massive windows and sunshine streaming through the smaller high windows from the setting sun in the west. The road split and went through an archway made of massive stones cut and placed with perfection. The trees and lawns were manicured flawlessly, maintained with a careful eye for detail. Such a place didn't seem possible to me, especially set in the middle of the woods. It was like driving into the past. My father's eyes lit up as he took in the view of the lake as the car descended the hill into the camp. The road opened onto a pristinely placid lake that reflected the purple and pink sky perfectly in the light of the setting sun.
This was my first glimpse of my island. I think the island speaks to everyone as they come in the camp. It beckons like Bali Ha'i. It was covered in tall trees and the small cabin's windows glittered in the setting sun. The house was dark but there were four blue Adirondack chairs sitting welcomingly on the wide western facing deck. I knew immediately that it would be my favorite place to go and I longed to go there first.
We passed some smaller cabins set up on the hill and a wide field of grass that was set up for baseball games. The largest of the buildings was surrounded by trees on all sides. This was called the main lodge and it towered above the road. It was made of logs but couldn't be described as a cabin, for it was much to large for that. Standing in front of the lodge we were met by the groundskeeper and his wife. They were welcoming and showed us to a smaller cabin by the lake that was called the boat house.
Kenneth took our bags and Father led us out to stand on the large deck that overlooked the lake and the island. The sun was setting and the pink and orange light sparkled across the glassy surface of the lake. Father put his arm around Mother's shoulders and smiled then wrapped me in his other arm as we watched the setting sun. Mother took my hand as he let me go to walk the length of the deck. His eyes were boyish and wondering. I don't remember ever seeing him so happy. Mother smiled down at me and we watched the changing colors of the sky for a few minutes. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," she said with a hint of sadness and wonder. I smiled up at her and silently watched the ripples catch the sunlight. It is another memory that I hold near my heart and travel to when I miss them.
The groundskeeper showed us to the Main Lodge where there was a pool table and a fire burning in the massive fireplace. He left us and Father and Mother and I stood in front of that giant fireplace to warm ourselves. The cool air of evening had put a chill in us but that was quickly warmed away by the roaring fire. I was curious to meet Camilla. Father had often spoke of her and their times together from when he was a child. He went to the added expense to call her on her birthday and Christmas. Long distance telephone calls were expensive in those days. Later I found out that they also corresponded weekly by letter. I had never met her so I wasn't sure what to expect.
The door opened to the hallway beyond and a petite gray haired lady dressed in grey wool trousers and red sweater set entered the room. She walked with purpose and held herself straight like she had been a dancer. Her face was remarkably smooth and I wondered if she was not younger than Father instead of older. She had a sparkle in her eye when she looked at me from across the room. She crossed the room and hugged my father and he beamed back at her as she asked after his health. She hugged my mother also who smiled kindly at her and said how happy she was to see her. She turned to me with a kind and rather intent smile, my heart felt strange, like it would melt, there was so much love in her face. She crouched down in front of me with a great smile and enfolded me in a bear hug unlike I had ever experienced. She smiled happily and held me out from her, smiling up at my dad, her eyes sparkling.
"She's everything you said and more," Camilla said with a grin, then looking down at me, "Come and sit with me, precious one. We are going to be great friends."
And we were.
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