Powhatan Pines Remembered

 At this end of summer, I remember the summer of 1973, when I had a few months in the USA,  working on a summer camp by Pleasant Lake in Oxford, Maine. I worked on general maintenance, and shared a gallery room in a set of wooden buildings with 3 other guys, all of whom were fun and energetic and all a little crazy. There were other random rooms for others, including for the girls, and a communal area for meals and shenanigans. We all got to know each other pretty well through shared work and lake-borne activity. It was fun. But as with all these adventures, there is that 'end of summer' sense when things close off and are left behind. Here are a couple of diary notes which I've recently revisited. 

I found a little poem. I do not know who wrote it. But it echoed a feeling. 

And, after all those new-found friends had gone away at the season's end, I sat alone and wrote this ditty:

Powhatan Pines – Going Home

She sat on a box with her things in
Strumming an old guitar
Pamela her mind on yesterday
Pamela you'll be a star.

And Helen goodbye, I'll not say it
Just wish you well now I'm alone
You'll be fine all the way down to New York
With your song a song I have known.

Merle what a Pearl and you know it
With  your red Dexter shirt and your hair -
It has grown in the weeks I have known you
Will you change or grow old, do you care?

Will you ever stop Greg with your bitching
At Julie and Sherri and the gang?
Will Glenn help you out 'cause he's younger?
Shall you let him like the rest go hang?

And Dave, friend Dave, can you leave me
Here with this axe in my hand?
Is today the real day you see clearly?

Will today see you making a stand?

We stood in these groups, and all chatted
We felt free for the first time in weeks
Our farewells rang around in the pine trees
And the future was ready to speak.

What has it been this long dream that we've been through?
Was it real now I sit on my own?
It is strange in Powhatan without you:
We made summer and now we're alone.

She sat on a box with her things in
She was strumming an old guitar
Pamela my mind is there with you
Pamela you'll make me a star.

Footnote:

Powhatan Pines / Camp Powhatan on Pleasant Lake, Oxford, Maine was run by  the Bloom family from 1921 - 1996. I remember Joel Bloom, who employed me. He was  a kindly man, open and generous. Though the Bloom era is long gone, the camp facilities themselves are still actively used for summer camps today.