Tuesday, August 25- Final Campfire

Since this was the last full day of camp, things were fairly unstructured. We spent most of it packing our trunks and duffle bags, and wondering how the clothes that came out of them so easily in July had suddenly become so difficult to get back in in August. (I swore that they somehow expanded...) Any free time was mostly devoted to getting signatures for our autograph books and Lenore photo albums. Whatever we did during the day, was simply marking time until our evening's culminating activity, The Final Campfire. After dinner, as the sun was setting, the entire camp would walk in a candle-lit procession, down to the lakefront. At sunset, the lake and waterfront took on an entirely different look. As the light faded, we'd listen to the Head Counselors and Directors reminisce about the past eight weeks, and of course, we'd sing; "Each campfire lights anew...", "Father Time"..."Camp Lenore, We Will Miss You..." With each song, the sniffling and sobbing would increase.
Now, I'm not sure which came first, but I do remember that campers would take their candles, (somehow affixed to small, floatable containers), and then launch them into the lake, along with our wishes to return for the following year. Watching our little flotilla of lights head off into the darkness was a beautiful coda to our summer. Then, at some point, we'd all sing, "1-9-5-9 at Camp Lenore." With this, counselors stationed in rowboats out in the lake would ignite a large, flammable representation of the numbers "1959." We all stood in awe and watched as the numbers burned brightly and then gradually faded to black, just as our summer had. It was truly magical. (Until I found out that those ephemeral, burning numbers were made up of women's sanitary napkins, soaked in gasoline.)
And then came the mother of all sob songs, which we'd sing with our arms around each other, swaying with tear-soaked faces:
"Remember the times we've had here.
Remember when you're away.
Remember the friends you've made here,
And don't forget to come back someday.
Remember the hills and woodlands,
The skies of heavenly blue.
For you, girls, belong to Lenore
And Lenore belongs to you."

With the last of our songs complete, we'd head back up the hill in near silence and take the sad walk back to our bunks, our flashlights dancing off the dark foliage like fireflies...
And waiting for us, would be milk and cookies.