Sandy was talking about the camp counselors, stating that everyone here is very accomplished. He pointed out that everyone played college tennis or were high school super stars. I agree but think he’s feeling sorry for me because I’m struggling so badly. There are players from Iona College, Rutgers, Harvard/Wellsley, Georgia, Idaho State, John Hopkins, Plymouth, York, Holyoke. GW, its no wonder it’s so hard to win a match. I think the East Coast players have the edge because they’re used to playing on clay and in this humidity.
Every day between 10:30 and 11:00 is a magical time, that’s when Mr. B shows up at the courts with the mail. He climbs from the station wagon with brown-wrapped packages, letters of all sizes and for homesick campers and counselors and it’s a beautiful sight. Mail is nothing new for Mr. B, he told me a while back that he worked in the APO post office in San Francisco during the war, sending and sorting Navy V-mail. He said it was the dream war time job because he got to live in a hotel by the Bay and didn’t have to worry about dodging bullets.
We run to the water fountain during the morning break to check the stack of mail. Mental mail inventory is taken to see who is getting what from whom. Mr. B neatly sorts the mail near the water fountain under the giant oak tree but in a matter of minutes its scattered. On this day I had high hopes of getting a letter because I’ve written to everyone I know, including the Dean of Students at ISU…but nothing….only two letters in the past month.
I was sullen the rest of the morning. I told Chris Russell-Vick about it because she always gets a stack of mail, I asked her secret she says she writes everyone in her family at least once a week, she says that seldom a night passes that she isn’t writing someone. I’m so bummed. Cathy Davidson gets a lot of mail from Massachusetts, as does Mark. Bevin gets tons of mail from the parents, brothers and sisters. Riley does well too from Scotland. Roger and Bobby never get mail, unless its from a camper. Roger got a letter from Billy Sigmon, the 12 year old from last session sent him a 5-dollar bill, payment of all the cokes he lost on Roger’s hard court. Funny how mail is such a validation and at the same time a status thing here.
This has been a very difficult session because of the heat. Tom had a meeting last night in his room and said that we were getting lazy in the afternoon and we need to stay on the court to supervise the matches and coach the kids. Some counselors and sneaking off to the shade, Mr. B drove by and only two counselors were on court, Tom got chewed out for that. Tom said they are going to allow more water breaks but we need to make an effort to stay out and work otherwise day offs will be taken away. I think that woke a few people up. Also we’ve lost an astonishing number of balls and Mr. B wants Sandy and I to take over ball duty. We don’t mind, I think its relaxing to walk the perimeter of the courts and pick up balls.
We took the kids to Chapel night or Bells as we call it. We take the kids up the narrow staircase up to the gothic bell tower to watch Bryan Barker play. Bryan has a wonderful old english accent and an artist with an artist touch, he puts on a show and tower is his stage. This is his Carnegie Hall and its worth it. He is an entertainer plus its an inspiring sight, an 80 year old, pounding on the keyboards, playing Back and Beethoven and then giving an eloquent speech with quotes from Shelly and Keats. Bryan wears a headband when he plays to keep the sweat out of his eys and he pounds the keyboard with incredible energy and passion. He starts every performance with a Keat‘s quote “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Then its back to the carillion. Brian pounds on the keyboard with pads on his hands crafted from tire tread, he works up quite a sweat and the kids sit transformed. Its so nice to look from the tower out on the greenfields of the campus and of course the inspiring music of Ludwig Van!
Every day between 10:30 and 11:00 is a magical time, that’s when Mr. B shows up at the courts with the mail. He climbs from the station wagon with brown-wrapped packages, letters of all sizes and for homesick campers and counselors and it’s a beautiful sight. Mail is nothing new for Mr. B, he told me a while back that he worked in the APO post office in San Francisco during the war, sending and sorting Navy V-mail. He said it was the dream war time job because he got to live in a hotel by the Bay and didn’t have to worry about dodging bullets.
We run to the water fountain during the morning break to check the stack of mail. Mental mail inventory is taken to see who is getting what from whom. Mr. B neatly sorts the mail near the water fountain under the giant oak tree but in a matter of minutes its scattered. On this day I had high hopes of getting a letter because I’ve written to everyone I know, including the Dean of Students at ISU…but nothing….only two letters in the past month.
I was sullen the rest of the morning. I told Chris Russell-Vick about it because she always gets a stack of mail, I asked her secret she says she writes everyone in her family at least once a week, she says that seldom a night passes that she isn’t writing someone. I’m so bummed. Cathy Davidson gets a lot of mail from Massachusetts, as does Mark. Bevin gets tons of mail from the parents, brothers and sisters. Riley does well too from Scotland. Roger and Bobby never get mail, unless its from a camper. Roger got a letter from Billy Sigmon, the 12 year old from last session sent him a 5-dollar bill, payment of all the cokes he lost on Roger’s hard court. Funny how mail is such a validation and at the same time a status thing here.
This has been a very difficult session because of the heat. Tom had a meeting last night in his room and said that we were getting lazy in the afternoon and we need to stay on the court to supervise the matches and coach the kids. Some counselors and sneaking off to the shade, Mr. B drove by and only two counselors were on court, Tom got chewed out for that. Tom said they are going to allow more water breaks but we need to make an effort to stay out and work otherwise day offs will be taken away. I think that woke a few people up. Also we’ve lost an astonishing number of balls and Mr. B wants Sandy and I to take over ball duty. We don’t mind, I think its relaxing to walk the perimeter of the courts and pick up balls.
We took the kids to Chapel night or Bells as we call it. We take the kids up the narrow staircase up to the gothic bell tower to watch Bryan Barker play. Bryan has a wonderful old english accent and an artist with an artist touch, he puts on a show and tower is his stage. This is his Carnegie Hall and its worth it. He is an entertainer plus its an inspiring sight, an 80 year old, pounding on the keyboards, playing Back and Beethoven and then giving an eloquent speech with quotes from Shelly and Keats. Bryan wears a headband when he plays to keep the sweat out of his eys and he pounds the keyboard with incredible energy and passion. He starts every performance with a Keat‘s quote “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Then its back to the carillion. Brian pounds on the keyboard with pads on his hands crafted from tire tread, he works up quite a sweat and the kids sit transformed. Its so nice to look from the tower out on the greenfields of the campus and of course the inspiring music of Ludwig Van!
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