That 70s Show

Here's me, my hair and Andee Finkel on the steps of one of the girls' bunks in 1971:

Ok, let's just start off saying how much we loved Larry Isreal. He was a truly wonderful fellow, a terrific companion and a marvelous athlete. His premature death has shocked and saddened us all, but having said that .....

WHAT THE HELL WAS HE THINKING WHEN HE GOT DRESSED THAT NIGHT? Between the sport jacket and the do, all I can think is, "Hey, Mr. Kot-ter." Was he auditioning for The Goodfellas? Did Paulie Walnuts own a clothing store back then? Can I mix any more metaphors? Meryl, of course, looks lovely and happy, and in his own way, so does the Monk. We'll miss him.

This shot stems from the early 70s. Left to right is Paul Malamud, Henry Levine, one eighth of Eric Schultz, Joel Pitagorsky, Marc Bernstein, Richard Parrott and Ernie Schultz.

No, this isn't an audition for That 70s Show, it's from left to right, me, Jeff Kisseloff, sporting a pair of sideburns so large I could hang them in the closet. That's Barry Gruber, sporting an impressive set of weeds himself. Next to Barry, could that be the guy who plays guitar in Hall and Oates? Nope, it's Eric Kronenberg about to be nabbed by a person with enormous fingers. It's Eric Schultz, again, who apparently only likes to be shot in profile. This photo was taken on visiting day, 1973. Eric K. and I were there as visitors until shortly after this shot was taken when
we were informed by management that our presence on campus was no longer welcome, the insinuation being that we were one toke over the line, sweet Jesus. This was false. We never inhaled.

This is not poor camera work. Steve Pashutsky was actually a very blurry person in those day when he was clearly trying out for the Chippendales.

Speaking of Pashutskys, here's Meryl Pashutsky, Patti Pashutsky and Debbie Davidoff Pashutsky apparently auditioning for the Crips or the Bloods.

Speaking of gang colors, here's Norm and Sandy posing in theirs. Perhaps they were about to lead a rumble against the hated Berkshire Hills gang. If I remember correctly, this wheel was stolen off the sign approximately once every 27 minutes during the years I was there. Also, who would have thought that Norm and Earl Morrall were separated at birth?

That's Connie Resnick, Robin Portnoy, Julie Biblowitz, and, my God, he just ran in there from another photograph!

Meryl Novor has actually suggested that I refused to upload this shot because I was intimidated by the buff guy on the right, who apparently drove the motorboat one summer and kicked sand in the faces of 99-pound weaklings everywhere [that person is apparently Russ Miller, who reports that he never kicked sand in anyone's face]. Next to him is Ray Marshall. For making this suggestion, Meryl has been suspended from the site for an entire season. The fact is, I was (and remain) a very modest fellow and for that reason rarely doffed my t-shirt, but since Meryl has raised the issue I am reluctantly publishing the photo below.

I don't know whether it was a broken prom date or a golf lesson from Mike Mehrig that prompted this poor girl to take a leap from the top of the rec hall, but that's beside the point. This is a rare glimpse inside the building. Look closely and you can see not only the Thailand banner but also the Tribal Warfare victory tote board in the upper left.

This is such a nice shot of Terri Stillson and Jeff Gurian that for the life of me I can't think of anything mean to say about it. They went to the prom the year this shot was taken, which gives me the idea that we should set up a page of prom date pictures, if anyone out there has any. If so, send them my way.

I think I have an actual shot buried among my pile of photos somewhere..... just a minute while I find it.....hold your horses, I think this is it. Yup. Here's us in 1971, taken I think just before the prom or the afternoon of it. The picture is actually taken in bright daylight, but my hair is blocking out the sun, and if I'm not mistaken I refused to wear a sports jacket to the prom as a protest against American imperialism, choosing instead to don this sweater that was no doubt stitched together by slave labor somewhere on the Asian continent.

From the boys' perspective, this was one of the best times of the day, when we got to watch the girls march (usually not quite as cohesively as depicted) down to the lake. If we happened to be playing softball or a heavy game of newcomb, you'd suddenly have an immediate need to run to the water fountain on the other side of the road, just as the girls passed, or, as in the case of Larry Isreal, to take your shirt off.

To complete the sequence, here is the same group of girls beginning the Camp Everett version of the Bataan Death March back to the girls camp. Usually, by the time they made it back up top, half the group had dropped by the side of the road out of either hunger, exhaustion, dutz poisoning or all three.

Here's the only shot I could find of the Camp Everett forum, which was used for lectures, cookouts, and the occasional human sacrifice. These are the senior boys (I can see Monkey under the "P" in the second row and me to his left. I think Joel Pitagorsky is giving us a talk on proper condom usage.

You know, it's not the fact that these three girls (unknown, Patti Pashutsky and Jayne Kolber) are wearing those socks that piques my curiousity as much as the conversation that must have taken place in some factory somewhere when someone made the decision to manufacture them. Did that person think he would actually make money on them? "Hey, Harry, I think the kids are gonna want to look like Red Skelton this season." I bet he was on the unemployment line real quick after that one. But now speaking of horrendously bad '70s fashion statements ...... (that's a redundancy), I dare you to look at this next picture without guffawing.

"This meeting of the Marcia Brady Fan Club will now be called to order."

Clearly, the same guy who made the socks had some cloth left over — lots of cloth — and made the pants. There's more plaid here then there is in all of Edinburgh, and I don't know why Terri Stillson in the center is grinning so widely, because she really looks like she lost a bet.

This is a fascinating document, and not only for the creative spelling on the contract. The way I read this at first, if there were 100 campers and 20 counselors, Andrew stood to make $1150 that summer. I wonder if he read it the same way and then was very surprised at the end of the summer to find out that the waiters would not each earn $10 per camper but would all together split $10 per camper. So that if there were 10 waiters, they would each have split a total pot of $1200, leaving them $120 each less $50 expenses (which included about $2 a week for laundry, which might have seemed like a bargain until you realize that the laundry consistently lost one pair of your underwear per week), sending you home with the grand total of $70 for eight weeks' work and harassment at the hands of a bunch of eight-years-olds running you ragged with their endless substitution demands.

This is why I became a union organizer.

Here's another mystery: Why is everyone in this picture wearing the obligatory CE whites, except the kid in the who is apparently portraying a Central Park flasher?

I just put this up because it brings back memories of Bruno Sammartino when he was about to put the evil Baron Miguel Scicluna into a scissor lock, as revenge for being pummeled by the Baron with a "foreign object." Afterward the Baron, who was supposedly from Malta and didn't speak any English would be interviewed on TV to promote the rematch at Madison Square Garden and the Baron would say something that went like this: "rarrar rarrrar blah blah, argh, arg, Madison Square Garden, argh, blah, grracha gruscha, June 10 at ten o'clock, mster sumcha, gachs, seven dollars, nine dollars and ten dollars, sdjaparitx ghjdjrrrara!" And then he'd go stomping off. What does this have to do with Camp Everett? Absolutely nothing, but what the hell, that's the fun of having your own Web site.

This is another one of those bizarre p.r. shots. I can't imagine the parents looking at this shot and saying, "Gee, Marge, they've got the kids begging for milk like those refugees we see on the TV. Isn't that charming? Let's send our Sidney to this camp."

Anyway, I got a kick of this juxtaposition, Pete feeding them milk, and then below...

Jeff Davis feeding them paste!

Things got so tough at Everett toward the end, that the motor boat was ditched to save gas, forcing campers to try water skiing behind a sailboat.

These kids really believed it when they were told if they paddled real hard they could push that dock all the way up to the mess hall.

The tragic summer of '73 and another rec hall suicide leaves the witnesses rather blasé about it.

Here's hoping that Meryl is soon back in her saddle shoes again. In the meantime, can someone please explain to me the attraction of saddle shoes?

Look at this jerk. His legs are backward. He's missing the basket by a mile. To call his legs toothpicks is an insult to toothpicks everywhere. Who is this .......
Nevermind.

What could Gloria be teaching them? And what is that monstrosity sitting on the porch? Actually, it's a refrigerator that (seriously) dated back to the 1920s now being used to dispose of unruly campers.

They all seem to be clapping in time, except for poor Bruce Berland in the top left, and I don't know what that kid in the middle is doing with his left hand. Maybe I don't want to know.

I guess we spent a lot of time standing around the piano clapping, but look at that piano. If Sidney had been sitting up there instead of Bob Kohn that thing would have been pieces.

I don't know whether this was 60s or 70s, but I think the woman on the left is Bunny Nadelman, and the guy pointing on the right is again Russ Miller. [He is not, as was previously reported, a fellow named, ironically enough, Steve Waterfront or Paul Waterfront. It was amazing how many swimming counselors had that last name. The thing I remember about Steve or Paul was he was notoriously bad tempered and a bit of a bully until Joel Pitagorsky stood up to him and the guy walked away with his tail between his legs (really, he did have a tail) and he never pushed anyone else around again. By the end of the summer, little eight year old kids were beating the crap out of him.]

I got a kick out of this picture, because if you look carefully, you can see that Nancy Coleman, all the way on the right, is apparently the only person who is refusing to say the pledge. You go girl! We had the same issue on boys side, and I remember Pete regularly taunting me for not saying the pledge, saying if I lived in Russia would I be saying it. I've only recently understood his point, but I don't think he's right. If I lived in Russia, why would I be saying the Pledge of Allegiance to the US?

Final exams at Everett Academy; True or false: Blue knee socks go perfectly with brown pennyloafers.

I couldn't believe that the owners sprung for a tennis ball machine, until I saw this picture, and then I remembered the great fun we had trying to hit the kid standing next to it who was absolutely defenseless without his racquet. I think he came with the machine as kind of a bonus incentive for buying it.

Didn't there used to be a wall there? I swear there used to be a wall there. What happened to the wall? What was the fun of playing if you couldn't risk ramming your head into it going after a low angled shot? I do remember the night we sneaked down and painted over the Everett sign. Who knew I had such artistic talent?

Basket-weaving was one of the many essential skills we learned in arts and crafts, second only to lanyard tying and hot-plate making. It seems to me that they should have taught us something useful, like license-plate manufacturing, which certainly would have lowered the camp's tuition, or how to roll a joint, which would have come in handy during our college years. By the time I was 12, my parents stopped even pretending to like the stuff that I would dutifully hand them on visiting day. It would usually be found laying in the road outside camp, no doubt having been tossed out of the window as soon as they were out of my sight.

Look at the woman on the left, and then check out the thickness of the pad beneath her. Something very bad is about to happen.

Count the fingers on the guy at the right (on the left is David Sudolsky). If you get nine, this is a shot from square dance practice. And it might be nine. Look at the hand to the fellow's left. Clearly someone has the creeps from even being near his missing thumb. But if it's ten, this is a shot from when the Billy Graham crusade stopped at Everett.

Can someone tell me why the boys' lower field was shifted this way? I'm assuming it was a sewage issue, no? Also,
I can't help but notice a paucity of campers playing for the team that is up at the plate,
and if I'm not mistaken that's Ernie Schultz playing third base or first base if this is the Hebrew version.