Bill Prinzmetal (and a few others) write that my teen stories are fun for them because everyone from 1948 on knows me as the camp director, storyteller, folk singer, and a young, stocky student at UCLA who was equally ready with a true story or a made-up adventure!
What follows is a prequel to what I wrote recently about going into that Wisconsin town. All of it is true.
The summer camp I attended as a kid was called Camp Wooster, located in Northern Illinois, close to the Wisconsin Border. It was funded by wealthy Jewish businesspeople. At that time, if you were Jewish and needed a job, you usually worked for a Jewish firm. Being Jewish and not being hired by non-Jewish firms was common. In those days, most application forms asked for your religion.
I loved Camp Wooster, being in the country with a big lake, activities galore, and a caring and talented staff. My favorite activities were boxing and fencing. I was good, and no one ever beat me. I so enjoyed being in the ring and the battle. Although I went there for many years as a child, when I was 15 years old, I applied for and was hired as a dish washer. There were two of us who worked together after every meal. We prided ourselves on clean dishes, speed, and as few broken dishes as possible. We heard about the rib place in the small Wisconsin town and were told never to go there. But two teenagers and ribs? The attraction was too powerful for two fearless teens. You know the rest of the story.
The “stomach” drives us—And so we go, warned not to—A lesson forever
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