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The clipping this text was read from
The clipping this text was read from

By JIM DENNIS

4-H damper

As the car pulled into the new 4-H center, I looked out the window in wonderment. "What is this?” I thought. ‘‘This surely isn't 4-H camp!"

I peered out at what looked to me to be a resort. Directly in front of me was a tall wooden structure with many windows that appeared to be octagonal. Beside this, a little way away, was another building almost exactly like it.

Standing in front of one of the buildings (which I later learned was the cafeteria and boys' dormitory) was a somewhat tall, blond young adult, obviously permanent staff at the camp.

But wait a minute! As I looked closer I noticed he had a short haircut in the front with the hair longer in the back—what I would call a punk rock hairdo. I thought to myself that this was just great. Here I am at a country club camp with a counselor who is probably a sado-masochistic punk rocker.

I found my room and realized I had six other people staying with me, all the boys from Rappahannock County. I knew most of them quite well. One was a good friend of mine, Jim Racer. The consensus was that the place was nothing like our familiar camp that we had always gone to, Powell’s Fort. We all felt we were in for a long week because the camp wasn't rustic enough.

After the orientation meeting we were given a choice—we could go swimming or walk around

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