Many Moons ago our voyages clashed
Not knowing where it would lead our future paths
You being lanky and on staff
Me a scout – a week in camp.
Strutting across the grounds with
Gaelic pride
Confident, cockiness, prankster
twinkle in your eyes
Character and traits, wished I had
inside.
You enthusiastically instructed,
programmed, and Luigi skits Meetings round camp, a Roadrunners pace never you
quit.
I at thirteen, handbook dictionary,
with scouts not a fit
Polar Bears ‘n breakfast, nothing
doing I lickedly split
Gazing upon valley below hours spent,
O’er mountains, through the woods, I
found by you once again.
All said and done, separate ways we
went
Communicating not tell future
technology of the internet
Prior to separating on our way
Adopted by a family so grand -
The Family: “We are the Men of the Ahwahnee Staff”.
dmpiantoni
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THE STORY
When we were young we were caught up in the moment of the
life time we were living in. Not taking
a lot of pictures or making memorable notes and getting or keeping
souvenirs.
Before being adopted
into the family of the Ahwahnee Staff
(age 11-14) as a participant in winter camp, OA ordeals, other times my
dad was camp master and leadership training – summer camps were the best. For there alone I could be myself. There with scouts I didn’t mesh, because of who my father was, high expectations of others placed upon
my shoulders so high. I was instructing
adults how to teach boys; Knew the handbook like the back of my hand.
Early morning polar bear and morning mess, alone wandering
around the camp land: from parade
grounds to parking lots building all around.
Hotel of Lupen at main gate to the post for trade – grabbed some cement
‘n took a seat, listening to sounds a cabin of staff music abound. From Center of Nature to the creek further
down – roads leads up where the eagles roost.
Passing the Indians Mohawk and Cherokee and the camps behind. Ranges to Hay out to the Chapel hidden in the
pines, with a point just behind. A view
of inspiration whether rooks looking down or the valley spread wide. Places along the way, I’d try to hide.
Like a spy no matter
what time, over the hills Noel was the only one, me
you’d find.
When the season was over and family members went on their
way – with a list of contacts, in touch we said we’d stay. Communications at the time was at that time
the pony express, our words did fade.
Over the years of life’s situations, souvenirs-memorabilia
lost or destroyed, memories blurring into dreams not real, also knowing not
what was really thought about you.
Now the highway of the internet communication being such a
snap – world so small again the gathering of family from time so past. Affirming events that seemed made up, really
did exist. I never knew what was thought of me for I was my fathers’ son, I
felt I had to be a step above.
Missing the Reunion of 1986, not told by those who knew. But December of 2014, was a re-union I thought would never
be. From Washington to California I took a trip for a wedding of
family officiated by Noel. 38½ years
once again we did meet. Funny to me,
others that should have – didn’t recognize you.
Even if no communication, with me not the case.
For your eyes still had the sparkle, your smile so
mischievous as was in your youth. Time so limited and only a brief little
chat. It was a sight worth while having. Verification of events only seeming a myth,
and thoughts of one another from our time in the past.
It was a glorious Re-Union and so long over do.
