The View from the Office Porch

There are certain aspects of Kabeyun I take for granted, things I count on encountering each time I drive down the  camp road. Some of those are specific to me and my experience here, while I suspect others are universal – the view across the lake from the docks in small cove, the calm and quiet beneath the towering trees on Pine Point, the energetic hum in the dining hall at a Sunday meal with all of camp present.

It is rare, but not unheard of, for a person to become such an established part of the landscape at camp that we imagine them as indistinguishable from the place. Bill French was one of those, a fixture at Kabeyun over the course of his life and a link to camp’s very origins.

Bill’s consistent presence at camp, year after year, serves as a reminder that Kabeyun can transcend a single summer and become something greater than the sum of its parts. Who could imagine that boys of all ages would look forward to rainy weather for the chance to choose “Kabeyun History” for an activity period? I never tired of passing through the dining hall on those days to see mesmerized campers soaking up Bill’s tales of what camp was like decades earlier.

He told me once that nearly everyone has a moment, usually at some point during their first summer at camp, when they make an unconscious shift from referring to “camp’s boats” or “camp’s vans” to speaking of “our boats” and “our vans.” That sense of belonging and ownership is an essential part of the Kabeyun experience. Bill could cause anyone who shared a summer with him to feel important and welcome, a part of something special, simply for having come to camp when they did.

Even as he served as our connection to camp’s past, Bill was a force for ensuring Kabeyun’s future. The many relationships he cultivated and nurtured over the years brought countless former campers and counselors back to camp asking, “What does camp need? How can I help?” I imagine, having heard his classic (and frequently mimicked) delivery of John Porter’s preferred pre-meal grace so many times, the exhortation to make us ever mindful of the needs of others is etched forever in the minds of generations of Kabeyun alumni thanks to Bill.

It will take some getting used to, knowing that I won’t get to share a sunset on the dock with Bill this summer. He and I were unable to share a table in the dining hall last year and had talked about doing so again this summer. It will fall to someone else to stage his traditional dramatic reading in the lodge of our favorite excerpt from “The Song of Hiawatha.” The dining hall won’t gasp in amazement as he announces how many summers – nearly 50, by last count! – he’s been at camp when we line up all the members of the 5-year-club.

As much as I will miss my friend this summer, I know that I will continue to feel his presence throughout camp, this year and all those to follow. Just as Kabeyun was such an important part of Bill’s life, so too is he such an enormous part of Kabeyun’s story. It will be up to us, now, to share his history of camp with future generations.

Honor be to Mudjekeewis! Henceforth he shall be the West-Wind, and hereafter and forever shall he hold supreme dominion over all the winds of heaven. Call him no more Mudjekeewis, call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind!

Ken Robbins
Director