A photo page. This is then:.

 

Until I figure out a better system, I'll just post the photos higgedly-piggedly or piggedly-higgedly as I get them. To cut down on loading time, bunk shots have now been moved to their own page. Click here to take a look.

 

 

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

 

 

Just so, people don't think this is the Jeff Kisseloff page, here's a piece of Camp Everett memorabilia sent in by Eric Schultz. Eric also promises to send a scan of his eight-year sweater.

 

 

 

Eric Schultz also dug out these two items, both of which he earned. The top patch was awarded for excellence in water skiing, the second for excellence in creating shadow puppets. Ok, it's for outstanding achievement in tribal warfare, that hallowed Camp Everett tradition of racistly named competition between the Sioux, the Utes, the Crows, the Creek, the Cohens. (Photo reprinted with permission of the Eric Schultz Collection)

 

 

Below is a Polaroid of what appears to be the Camp Everett branch of the Future Republicans of America. Can you guess their identities?

Left to right is Ira Beckoff, Norm Winer, Alan Pollack and Rick Silverblatt. The gymnastically inclined fellow is Larry Maier. For those who take a scholarly interest in these photographs, notice the graffiti in the upper right, the signee being Jeff Tone, who was singularly respected for his ability to mimic Douglas Klein's honored Socratic query:"What's for dinner?" Also note the clean-up sheets on the wall and the fortunate placement of Maier's head, obscuring the extended middle finger of his Winer, who always had warm thoughts for me.

 

 

 

And since we are in a Polaroid sort of mood tonight, here is another elegantly posed group portrait. Notice, too, the perfectly folded items in the cubby holes on the left. Any guesses as to the membership of this motley crew? Hint:
the fellow in the dark shirt is not Alfred E. Neuman.

Back row: Rick Silverblatt, Larry Maier, Alan Pollack, Al Hecht. Middle Row: Paul Malamud, Peter Nathan. Front row: Eric Kronenberg, Jacob Heller.

 

But Jeff, you say, how you can show us two pictures in a row that don't include you. You must rectify this situation at once. Ok, I shall reluctantly bow to the demands of the multitudes and offer this fine example of American manhood.

Look at me. Sally Struthers would make a fortune off this picture. I actually arrived in camp that summer weighing 180 pounds. Then Harry Scheiner made the mistake of giving us a tour of the kitchen, and I didn't eat again until my parents showed up with a package on visiting day. Again for the anthropologically inclined, note the fashionally ripped inseam designed to reveal just enough sinewy thigh to be tantalize the Deb girl while thoroughly irritating my mother. I failed miserably at the former but was wildly successful at the latter. Upon seeing me for the first time in four weeks, she greeted me with, "You look like a bum." By the way, in the rear at the left is Steve Albert. Rear right is Steve's wonderful mom. I have no idea who the fellow standing next to me is.

 

 

 

Hmmm, what's this, a crap game in the rec hall?

Nope, it's the 1966 senior production of Guys and Dolls. Can you identify the players? Note how the dangling cigars and cigarettes lend verisimillitude to the production. I mean, they really do look every bit the wizened gamblers. Now, this was a co-ed production . . . .

 

and this scene of the senior girls singing "Take Back the Mink" followed by their stripping down was easily the highlight of this 11-year-old's summer. I believe that's Sue Cohen on the left and one of the Asnis twins in front.

 

Here's another highlight of the Eric B.Schultz Photographic Archive:

Most of these folks are identifiable, but I swear the woman in the foreground with the handbag in the crook of her arm looks like she wandered into the frame straight from a civil rights march in Birmingham. It also appears that a wig dropped from her head at the moment this picture was taken.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

As we know, at Everett, children were forced to wait long hours on line for milk. Hence, this propaganda picture designed to show happy campers getting their daily rations. Notice the skeptical look on the counselers in the back and right. In the foreground might be Brena Cohen, Fern Malamud. Laurie Berland's red hair makes her easy to spot and clearly, she was forced to participate in this ruse by her father. Historical note for those active in the forum: the girl with the black hair in the background to Gari's left is the same mystery girl who is sitting in the back of the canoe in my 1969 group photo.

 

This is another special photo, not only because of the marvelous socks that Jack Goldstein is wearing, but because it's so wonderful to see him again as a younger man. The soaking wet young fellow, who has obviously just climbed out of a dutz-free lake, is his son Barry.

 

 

Fifteen years later, campers climbing out of the lake looked like creatures from the black lagoon, as evidenced by this shot of Corey Scher rushing a dootzed David Sudolsky over to a sludge detoxification plant.

 

 

This is a picture from second period levitation. The girl in the specs is I believe Paula Bush. Lisa Kronenberg is at right.

 

 

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.

 

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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?

Ok, quick quiz: what's wrong with this shot? No, you aren't in the twilight zone. At one time,
the basketball court was actually where the tennis courts later were. Take a close look at the
counselor under the basket. That may be former Knick Ray Felix. And there's the classic shirts
and skins set up. I never liked being a skin. I was so skinny I looked like a hot dog running up and down the court.

Ok, what's wrong with this picture? Easy, if you look carefully people are smiling. Everyone knows that when you took a lesson from Mike Mehrig, even Jack Nicklaus would be crying after five minutes of incredible abuse. Now, with the exception of the one girl in her bathrobe who must have wandered onto campus from Isola Bella, all the others have their Everett shirts on, so clearly this was a posed publicity shot, and clearly someone came up with the smart idea to hustle Mike out of there for the day and substitute someone to pose as the teacher who wasn't born in the 18th century and who didn't have the disposition of Hermann Goering. Notice, too, the up-to-date equipment that campers were forced to use. Those are wooden clubs, which had probably been given to Harry Scheiner as a bar mitzvah present.

 

 

 

Now, what's wrong with this picture? HELLO, ANYONE HEARD OF GLOVES? And what about putting a mask on the catcher before an errant foul tip makes her look like Jake LaMatta?

 

 

 

This is the kitchen staff at Sing Sing. Ok, it isn't, but doesn't it look like it could be? The stacks of bowls and the crusted-over ladle make me weep with nostalgia. Anyway, that's Red in the middle, he who would remove his wooden leg to stir the bug juice. The fellow on the right has already begun making the doughnuts.

 

The photo below is from 1957. Look who was Cuba's general that year:

 

Ok, here's the real picture with Rick Silverblatt back in place:

I've been getting alot of email about this page the last few days, and most of it pretty much says the same thing:"Jeffo, while we enjoy the photos of the other campers, we're really here to see pictures of you, Jeff, Jeff Kisseloff, Jeff the man." Now, being a modest fellow, I cringe in the face of such pleading, but, after thinking about it I remembered the oath I took when I began this journey that no matter how far along on the path to fame and fortune it took me that I would never forget the little people. So for all you out there, these are for you:

 

 

This picture was taken the day I arrived home from camp in 1967. It was done deliberately in profile, not because my parents thought I was such a handsome young man, but because my parents were concerned that I had turned into a hippie with hair so long that it had actually began to turn up in the back, and they had to record this shocking development for posterity. Seriously. Little did they know that in four years I would turn into this humonculous.

 

 

 

Finally, I want to go back a couple of years to 1965:

The future Hall of Famer at the plate is, of course, me. The catcher in formal high black Cons is Ernie Schultz. What I find interesting about this photo, other than the fact it affords us a view of the quality archery range, is my hat, which was a sailor hat with the brim turned down, a style popularized that summer by Marty Litwer. I liked the hat because folding the brim turned it into a virtual Frisbee. This engendered a game I played every night during free play with any counselor I could commandeer. It was called "Willie Stargell" after the Pittsburgh Pirate slugger. The game would involve the counselor flinging my hat Frisbee-style from the rec hall steps while yelling "Willie Stargell" and my chasing the hat down like a labrador retriever. This kept me amused for weeks on end. Honestly, I have no idea how I made it into adulthood with the brains that I carried around then.

Speaking of the rec hall. Looking at this picture reminds me what a grand building it was. This shot was taken in 1957 just after Olympics broke:

 

 

 

These shots came in today via Frank Bass. Now, they start innocently enough, with
this photo of Frank, Mark Goldstein and Joel Pitagorsky from 1968.

 

But now when this next shot was put on the cover of the Everett recuiting brochure, needless to
say it attracted a different kind of camper:

 

"We go left. We go right. We go both ways every night." What can I say, they always did like show tunes,
and on the basis of this photographic evidence it's clear that when these guys were hanging out in the bathroom
with the door closed they only claimed they were smoking marijuana.

And who knew Mark Goldstein was pregnant? He hid it so well.

Finally, now we know what they were really referring to when they named the Camp Everett supergroup:
"Pitt and the Pendulums." .............

It's an outtake from the toga party in "Animal House"! I think Ira Beckoff off on the left is about to faint from
Pendulumania. And who threw up all over the scenery?

 

Here's another shot of the kitchen staff, preparing that evening's menu:

 

 

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

 

Here they are again! Only now, he's getting her drunk.

So with the end of Prohibition, alcohol was served legally at Camp Everett after a long hiatus in Coke bottles that were painted gray. The three booze hounds who manged to fool the doorman with fake IDs are Judy Sheiman, Julie Biblowitz and Debbie Orenstein. This is actually a scene from one of the Olympics. Note the sign on the left, posted either by someone who had difficulty spelling or a prejudice against certain members of the work force.

 


The camp t-shirts are the giveaway that his photo was one of those used to make the case to unsuspecting parents that Camp Everett was an idyllic place for little Poindexter. Of course, if they looked closely at the picture they would see the slick dude in the saddle shoes (what was that about?) on the right shaking down his bunkmate for protection money. In the back, two young thugs are ganging up on the fat kid. Then there's the two in the middle who share the same bed, well, enough about that, while nobody is talking to the little goody-two shoes in the foreground with the perfect hospital corners and jelly roll. Note the complete absence of shoe polish on the walls, which leads me to believe this was probably shot and staged at Camp Berkshire Hills down the road.


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. 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.

What do you think of those abs, huh Meryl?

"I saw Billy Lossoff last night, and it's twue. It's twue."

This was my bunk in 1964, peering through microscopes with the guidance of either Steve Nature, Arnold Nature, Seymour Nature. Isn't it funny how all those guys always had the same last name? That's Ed Chazen, sucking up to the teacher on the left. Next to him is Andy Barnett and the obviously handsome young man in the upper left could be none other than me. In the right foreground is Scott Lowen, who pushed me down on the first day of camp (did I mention that already), followed by Corey Scher and Jamie Jond. What I find alarming about this shot is Corey, the future doctor and teacher, who, if you follow the angle of his head, is clearly trying to copy off the paper of a rather smug looking Scott Lowen, who pushed me down on my first day of camp. I have no idea what we were looking at under the microscope, but I guess it was something small.

Here's one of several autograph pages I saved from that great trip to Jets training camp. I was just overwhelmed the great fullback, Antonino Bass, signed for me. Jeff Kisseloff too. I've heard his signature is so rare it goes for upward of $1,000 on ebay. Someone on there wrote, "The guy can't even write his own name." Boy, is he wrong, and I've got proof.

 

 

Ug, we burnum owner in fire.
Do you think at camps on the reservations they play Jewish warfare (with 12 tribes I guess)? "Moishe, Harry,
Maxie, Sam we're the boys who don't eat ham."

I can't keep him out of there. This must stop at once.

You tell me, was Gary Weiss aptly nicknamed "Goofy"?

Judging by the apparent skill of the archers, if I had been the photographer I would have been
getting pretty nervous right about now. And what's with the dress on the girl at the left? I wonder
if she beat up Shirley Temple and took it off her. I also wonder if that girl isn't Sharon Ascher. On
her left may be Susan Malamud.


If I was Jack Goldstein, considering where that girl's epee is directed, I'd have a look of concern
on my face, too .

 

 

When I posted this one, I missed what was clearly the best
thing about the picture, which I've blown up so you can see the kid in the striped shirt basically
flipping off the photographer.

 

Here's the banner of the other team in 1957 when the camp's leaders demonstrating interesting
judgment chose to celebrate Japanese warrior mentality, only 12 years after the end of World
War II. And speaking of taste, I think the kid's plaid shorts might be the missing bottom half of the
outfit being worn by the girl in the archery shot.

 

On the steps of the rec hall enjoying
a laugh are Lester Jee, Richard Parrott,
Lenny Planes and Gary Pollack,
who, no doubt, was the instigator of the
merriment.

 

Karen Scheiner sent in this photo of her fellow CITs in 1971.
From left to right they are Diane Griffiths, of whom I have no
memory, Joan Resnick, Jayne Kolber, Patty Pashutsky, Faith Shipper
and Vicki Valiant. The poster that Patti seems to be pointing
to depicts a pregnant Girl Scout. The caption reads, "Be Prepared."
Above them is graffiti which says someone and "Jeff." If that was
referring to me (and really, how could it not be), the person who wrote
that didn't have to be worried about being prepared .... alas.

This very cool dude is Steve Dennison, ca. 1969. Notice the pipe
behind Steve. I believe its purpose was to pump sewage into
the mess hall.

Jeff Gurian and Steve Abramson proudly holding an M&Ms
pack they probably just shoplifted from Frank's.

This triumphal group is celebrating a raid that was especially
cruel in light of the undercooked eggs that had just been served
in the mess hall. From left to right, the merry pranksters are Jayne
Kolber, Beth Warren, Amy Sudolsky, Patti Pashutsky (who is
apparently dressed to flee), Sue Wortman and Vicki Valiant.
Amy is now a lubavicher Hasid. I found a photo of her looking
a bit older but very distinguished.

Here's a nice shot of the Bellis family, looking the way I'm sure they'd like to be remembered.
Whatever Marjorie is holding reminds me that no one brought better packages to camp than Abe
Bellis did on visiting day. Since the Bellises were very friendly with the Schultzes, it was very
important to be on Eric and Ernie's good side that morning, because that meant you were
in for lots of good swag when the boxes were opened after the parents left. If this picture is any
indication, Abe also liked to include his old athletic socks in the packages.

 

Here's a scene from the the play Oklahoma. Notice that the musical's large budget
permitted some stunningly authentic costuming. That's Eric Schultz foreground left doing his Poor
Jud is Daid routine. Maybe the play should have been subtitled "Dead Men Don't
Wear Plaid." Chet Halpin is next to him. To Chet's right, disguised
as Groucho Marx is Ed Chazen. Look at that face. How could you not pick on him?
Now look real carefully to the right of Eric Schultz's waist. Closer... closer...closer....
You see that adorable puss? Those debonair eyes. That suave grin.
That could only be our favorite example of the vibrant youth of America.

 

Here's another shot of him from the play:

One more recollection of Karen Tunick groping Norm Winer while swabbing down his tonsils with her tongue during "South Pacific." That is of Faye Brenner watching the action in sheer horror. I think someone had to grab her arm to prevent her from running down the aisle shrieking, "Six inches apart, six inches."

 

Take a quick glance at this picture: doesn't it look like a poker game and the girl atop is about to lay down two pair?

 

"Yes, doctor, her head just rolled right off her neck in the middle of exercise class. "

 

Here is Jonathan Kaskel modeling someone else's
eyebrows, much to the amusement of the kid behind him, who may be Peter Nathan. Who knew that Jonathan's father was really the former Senator from New York?
 

And speaking of the Kaskels, here's evidence that Jack and Harry liked to spike the
bug juice on visiting day in order to keep the parents happy:

 

That reminded me of something.
In his 20 Answers, Ernie Schultz
claimed he learned about
pharmaceuticals at camp.
I didn't believe it until I
took a closer look at Ernie
in our bunk shot in 1965:

Lynn Chasen Lipton sent in this photo from visiting day in 1961. The adults cannot yet be positively identified. Lynn thinks the fellow on the left who is suffering from either leoprosy or poison ivy (what can you expect when you frolic naked through the bushes with Nellie Scheiner, is named Maury (like Sys, there was always a Maury at a Jewish camp in the 1960s). The other is mostly likely head counselor Sam Kostman. The fellow with the safari hat and whistle is Lynn's future husband Steve. What are the chances that he was the waterfront counselor? The kids are Kenny Kafka and Marty Kafka and on Steve's leg is their older brother Franz, who underwent quite a metamorphosis that summer.

 

After all the phony shots of kids in their camp shirts pretending to be enjoying golf lessons and volleyball, it's refreshing finally to see a photograph that depicts accurately how little kids really spend most of their time.

 

Ok, I don't know who this kid is, but he is by far my favorite former camper, even though you have to figure he got whacked every day by either his parents and his counselors. Based on his demonstrated aptitude for it, I would guess that today he's digging in a mine somewhere, still searching for gold. Many thanks to Jonathan Kaskel for these two photographs. Far right in both shots is Mark Goldstein.

 

 

Judging from the incredibly realistic backdrop, Michelle Smith as Wendy and Marilyn Kaskel as Peter Pan (or the Jolly Green Giant) are warbling on a boat trip to Never Never Land. Sadly, the the costume designer walked out on the show after making only the front of Marilyn's getup.

 

This is being posted strictly out of nepotistic consideration. On the left is the Web master's brother in his role as "Toodles"one of the lost boys in Peter Pan. Lost boys in JM Barrie's imagination apparently wore t-shirts and white cut offs, which was about as close an approximation as the green apron worn by Marilyn Kaskel (and madras was for plaid workshirts in "Oklahoma"). Again, note the backdrop, which appears to have been designed and painted two and a half minutes before the play began.

 

 

Being a kosher camp, it's safe to say that Everett had no larger (or other) ham than Barry Goldstein, shown here in his classic portrayal of Captain Hook. Here he is being hauled across the stage. The slim star was apparently heavier than he appeared as evidenced by the fact that his handlers needed to wear the kinds of belts that moving men put on in order to avoid getting hernias.

 

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.

 

Here's me and my first prom date in the early '60s. Entering the dining hall, we caused quite a stir that year.

 

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 I 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 deep in the Asian continent.

 

 

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.

 

"YOU'RE SWINGIN' TOO HAHD, SONNY. YOU'RE SWINGIN' TOO HAHD." It's the man himself, Mike Mehrig, giving Ed Chazen a golf (and life) lesson on Mike's 111th birthday. If you think I'm underestimating Mike's ability to demonstrate warmth and encouragement, style, look closely at the absolutely desultory expression on Larry Isreal as he waits to enter the cage.

The photo reminds me of one other thing about golf lessons about Everett. Those wooden posts were a bigger hazard to your teeth than Mike's right fist. Every three or four shots would smash against the post and pinball right at your head and you'd have to duck for your life. Even at his age though, Mike's reflexes were faster than Muhammad Ali's (and probably still are). He'd move about half an inch, and the ball would go whizzing by his head. Then he'd grin and cackle at the sight of us cowering in the corner. It was his favorite part of the day.

 

Here's proof that when Mike talked about breaking your wrists, he meant it literally.

 

 

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.

 

Notice the stacked bowls in the first table on the left. That brings back memories of rotating seats and having the honor and responsibility of stacking the dishes. Also, look carefully, and you can spot Gari Schultz and Helen Kahn mothering their charges, making sure they eat their lunch. Of course, I'm not sure that was a good thing.

 

Why is the girl in the upper right pushing around a kickboard with just a head on it? And why is she laughing?

 

I believe this bunk was the subject of some recent discussion in the forum. I see Ronnie. I see Jamie. I see Barry. I see David (I feel like Miss Barbara in Romper Room). Who are the rest?

 

To complete the sequence from a few pictures ago, 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 a line for the ATM machine. I think seated in the foreground is Fran Schulman, who for about six and a half hours was going to be my prom date that summer. I think this may have been the girls' arts and crafts building. Note the difference from the boys' arts and crafts bunk below:

 

I think the girls should sue. Speaking of law suits, the kid at the right is about to have a good one as he runs his hand through the jig saw. The counselor, who looks like every shop teacher I ever had, either isn't noticing or is about to reveal himself to be the Cropsy Maniac. Look at the large red splotch under the table and tell me there weren't already a few other victims.

 

Who says Mike Mehrig wasn't a nice guy? He loaned this fellow his support hose! Rumor has it that the fellow in the picture is Connie Resnick, which sheds a whole new light on the kind of socks that Mike liked to wear.

 

Look closely, and you can see Mike actually smiling (maybe it was just gas). I think the grin is about to fade fast though, as the girl swings her club right into his foot. Note the three girls at who were each paid large sums to stand there and not look frightened out of their minds about the prospect of standing in there next to him.

 

 

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.

 

Here are the girls of Wisteria Lane....

This appears to be a birthday party of some sort, but the fact that all the girls are wearing white shirts tells me it's another propaganda shot intended to show that prison isn't such a bad place after all.

 

This is so far the only shot I've seen of Billy "The Hose" Lossoff, who probably was asked to put his hand on the tiller as a phallic joke. The others in the photograph are Eric Kronenberg, Jamie Jond, Corey Scher and our group leader Sy Dulberg.

 

 

Like Argentinians and their soccer matches, at Everett tetherball inspired similar emotions. In 1967, tetherball hooligans set fire to several bunks after a crushing defeat at the hands of the hated Berkshire Hills squad. When gamblers managed to fix the matches of 1972 (with payoffs reportedly in the hundreds of jujubes), Everett lost its innocence forever. Here, the identically headbanded Patty and Cathy (otherwise known as Beth Fishman and Mindy Golub) demonstrate the skill and technique that made them the idols of millions.

 

Apparently, the girl in the red plaid dress had nothing else to wear that summer.

 

The light patch of wood is covering up a hole created when someone ran through the wall after making a layup.

 

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.

 

 

If the propaganda shots are to be believed, the boys played a lot of basketball and softball, while the girls.....

 

 

.... did a lot of stretching.

 

They also apparently played a lot of softball without either mitts or masks, which is why these women are smiling. I believe the woman on the left is Eleanor Jond.

 

The p.r. shots generally show campers doing an activity, arts and crafts, softball, picking their noses, which is why this picture puzzles me. What is it depicting? Promenading? And why are they leaving the rec hall on their own? Why? Why?

 

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?

 

Here are our raquetball courts just as I remember them. Built shortly after the Civil War to give crippled veterans some much need exercise, by our time so many of the boards were so loose or rotted that a ball smashed against it would flop straight to the ground like a dead bird. Then of course, there was the two dozen cracks and the lump in the cement. They made for all sorts of interesting bounces if the ball somehow managed to meet a sturdy enough plank to be returned.Then again it didn't matter really because two minutes into the game you would either break your wrist, your racquet or your face on the left wall. Really, this thing had more hazards than Augusta National. Don't forget if you hit the ball over the fence to the right, you had a better chance of emerging from the underbrush with poison ivy than you did with your ball.

 

Whoops, we caught them talking about Billy Lossoff again.

 

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.

 

The down side of having your own Web site is if you don't put enough shots of your brother in there he gives you a noogie when he sees you, so here's my brother, David Ascher, unknown person and maybe Ronnie Cohen overseeing a bunch of kids swimming in lake water that's slightly less clean in appearance than the Ganges. I wonder if anyone has noticed that someone has apparently bled to death in the lower right hand side of the frame.

 

My first question is what is this girl doing with her hand. My second is did they use her shirt to break Olympics that year?

 

This was a popular sport at Everett. First, you dumped a whole bunch of little kids into the water off the dock, and then the counselors would spear them with their poles. The one who snagged the most won.

 

I don't know what it is, but this picture makes me oddly nostalgic. How many afternoons were just like this one? It's obviously a beautiful, warm day. You can see campers on the left arriving, judging by the light probably for lunch. A counselor chats with Roz Serbin, no doubt filling her in on Sidney's latest exploits. A sister and her little brother are sharing news. Boys are stealing glances at girls and vice versa. The mess hall looks great. The campers and counselors are milling around outside in a mob, refusing to go in unless the chef is fired. It was my kind of day.

 

 

Meanwhile, down at the lake, an innocent Sunfish and its occupants are unaware that a Japanese sub is moving in for the kill.

 

On the third hole at the Canaan golf course, Jamie Jond displays the swing that would one day make him a PGA pro, and to think that he owes everything to Mike Mehrig. I didn't believe until one day I saw Jamie, now James, giving a lesson to a little boy, and once again I heard those sage words, "YOU COULDN'T HIT THE FUCKING BROAD SIDE OF A BARN." It was enough to make me weep with nostalgia.

Oh, that brown spot in the upper right corner of the picture, that is shmutz on your screen. You should wipe it off.

 

"We must. We must. We must. We must ....."

 

Steve Milim told me his kids don't think he was cool, so I'm posting this picture of him shirtless in his madras shorts and loafers to show them how wrong they are.

That's Alan Kaiser, who appears to be very pleased with his shot.

 

Here's another view that I experienced so often, it just makes me feel good to see it again. Notice in the right rear, the group lounging on a ping table, taking in a tennis match, and of course the sewer lines dumping their beautiful effluent in the lake for the swimmers to enjoy.

 

I'm sure this was a great game of volleyball, but the real reason why I'm posting this shot is because of the water fountain. Since I'm clearly in a misty mood, let me wax nostalgic for that ivory colored grip decorated with what appeared to be Chinese letters (that I was sure spelled out something anti-semitic) and which fed us delicious, cool water on those hot afternoons.

 

 

I don't remember this field at all, which I gather was somewhere up on the girls' side. It's a great shot, though, with the fielders in various stages of readiness and interest. Notice the hitter's unusual batting grip, which was popularized by the great Ty Cobb in 1908 and clearly being used to still great effect some 60 years later.

 

As a favor to those who posted in the "Mark-Goldstein-tennis-coach-to-die-for" item, I thought I'd post this shot of their dreamboat himself in action.

 

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 guy? ....... Nevermind.

 

After looking at her cubby, I think I know why Gloria Resnick is having this girl, whose name was apparently "7" (Her father was George Costanza) write home: "Dear Mom and Dad, you sent me to camp with a week's worth of shirts and underwear. Please send more. I'm getting tired of having to wear my friend's big shirts."

 

If Steve Milim just tossed the jump ball, that means this game was six against three. I don't remember Lance Beckoff being that good a basketball player to be honest, but maybe I'm wrong. That's Ira Lippel winning the jump, perhaps against Gary Traub. That looks like Gary Pollack at the far left and some fellow whose shorts are about to split next to him. At right is Jake Heller, Ed Chazen, Billy Lossoff and someone I can't make out, so let him represent the unknown camper.

 

This shot gives the term "cramming for an exam" a whole different spin. That's Myra and Irv Cohen overseeing what appears to be an SAT prep class in a room that must have really inspired a lot of learning. Those posters really perk the place up. Actually, I much preferred the poster which was tacked up on the other wall. You can't see it in this shot, but here it is:

 

Can you see Irv and Myra leading a chorus of "The Internationale?" "Arise, ye workers from your slumbers." If only. I was always jealous of my friends whose parents let their friends go to socialist work summer camp.

 

Here's a shot of the dining room that is so detailed you can almost smell the food. You can see the 1961 plaque at the upper left, and little Jamie Jond with the red hair at the table in the rear. That means this was taken in probably 1962 or 1963. I wonder if that's Mr. August Orenstein facing the camera at the table in the foreground.

 

 

This was taken from nearly the same exact spot seven or eight years later. Look how much older everyone looks, having waited all that time for their lunch. I think this picture was taken in 1969. That appears to be Norm standing up, and I think that's Jeff Gurian in the snazzy madras hat. If the fellow across from him is an indication, madras was quite popular that year - see also Steve Milim's shorts in a few pictures above this one. The two counselors at the table in the foreground are Billy Lerner and maybe Terry Cohen. At the table on the left are Frank Bass and Ira Beckoff. Another recognizable face is my brother sitting at the waiter's table in the rear and staring at the camera.

 

The number of refugees to Everett from Eastern European began with a trickle soon after World War II.

 

Ok, here's my first question. Why is Ira Beckoff lecturing us on how to use a ham radio when he's 200 feet from the nearest electrical outlet? And I say us, because the handsome fellow in the crewcut with his head cocked toward Ira like a brown-nosing jerk is me. I also can make out Eric Schultz next to me. That's Ernie in front of Al Hecht, who you can recognize from his classic black-striped socks and hush-puppies. I think that's Billy Lerner next to Ira.

 

You can tell that this must be a paste-tasting by the way the kid next to the arts and crafts counselor is licking his lips. Look, they have their place mats and their wooden spoons and everything.

 

This was the night they roasted Muskie at the stake after he wore like his twentieth referee's uniform to breakfast.

 

This is one of the pictures that Jerry and Renee Glasser had in an album that they would show parents to entice them to fork over a months' salary to cover their kid's tuition. What was the attraction, that all the kids dress like waiters and the counselors (a very young looking Mike Mehrig by the way, which means this shot was taken somewhere around 1871) look like masseurs aboard the Queen Mary? Did they actually think parents would believe that their kids would dress that way or that they would want them to? Here's another question: why did they boys have to dress up all in gray for these pictures, wearing shorts that made us look we were walking around with erections all the time (ok, maybe we were) while the girls as evidenced by this shot and others above got to wear cool black and white? And one more thing, that girl who is second from the left may be smiling now, but in a second she's about to get a bloody mouth when her friend clocks her with her back swing. First, they have girls playing baseball without mitts or masks, and here they're standing around smacking each other with clubs. That's a helluva way to sell parents on the camp.

 

 

 

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