More Stories

MORE STORIES

July 6, 2004

Gene, Gladis and Rebecca - 1972 

My old friend Gene Bergner wants more stories about camp.  He hasn’t come right out and asked that of me - but I sense it nonetheless.  In a recent packet of old camp photos, patches and humorous emails he had also enclosed a short hand-written note:

“Dear Noeleo,

 No, I’m not mad at you – just lazy.  I keep reading your stories over and over.  I find something new every time.  Many thanks. If we don’t call, Happy Father’s Day.  I hope some of the enclosed will make your day.  Phone or email when time permits.                                                                                        

 Love,

Gene”

Although the Father’s Day note was a nice touch, what really struck me was the fact that he had been reading the pieces.  You see, I had written close to thirty short remembrances over the past few years. They covered a mixed assortment of experiences in my life - many of them dealt with Camp Ahwahnee and my years there on staff, where I first met Gene and Gladis Bergner way back in 1969.  Gene particularly loved the tale that dealt with, among the other strange events that took place that summer, our meeting for the first time.  It’s entitled, “Bad Food.”  And, it was a hoot to write.  I was especially happy that it brought joy to my old friend and former boss.

The actual story was, however, that Gene started out as just our  ranger that first summer but was rapidly promoted to camp director by the next season.  As he was a man of immense talent, the local Scout council saw fit that he should run Ahwahnee for the succeeding ten years.  His wife, Gladis, stepped in as the camp’s business manager. They were an awesome team. I worked at camp for nine summers myself in various staff positions.  Consequently we had grown very close during all that time  - and our partings from Ahwahnee, as well as from one another years later, were pretty emotional.  I had come to look upon the Bergners as another set of parents.  In fact, they and my own folks grew close over the years as well.  I was one lucky kid indeed.

At any rate, by the time I had graduated from college I realized that I had to get on with my life, which meant getting a real job – thus ending my idyllic summers in the mountains.  Four years later, Gene and Gladis lost their home at Ahwahnee as well when the Scout council decided to sell the property – a mistake beyond all reckoning in the estimation of all of us who had come to love the place.

So, some thirty-odd years after our initial meeting I began to write little ditties about camp and a few of the characters that inhabited our piece of the mountain.  I eventually sent them on to Gene and Gladis.  After that, a more frequent correspondence took place between us once more.  It was almost like the old days.  We were all just a bit older – my two friends in particular, especially since they were approaching their mid-eighties.  But you would never have guessed their true age based upon their upbeat letters and phone calls.

Now, I have a theory that the camp tales have worked their way into Gene’s heart and perhaps rekindled some old memories. Actually, I have a strong feeling that those camp days are never far from Gene’s thoughts, thus hardly in need of rekindling anything, as a blaze of memories burn within his mind, no doubt.   I am certain of this as that same fire has been heating up my soul for the past three and a half decades.  I can only imagine just how brightly it burns in the man who lived upon that sacred, haunted land we called Ahwahnee.  Gene and Gladis watched a dozen seasons change there, year after year.  They greeted thousands of young men and adults during that time and inspired many of us to return to camp again and again just for the pleasure of their company and to share in the joy of the land. 

         

So, whether I really ‘sense’ that my good pal Gene actually does want more stories or whether I just need an excuse to exorcise some more old Ahwahnee spirits from my soul … well, I don’t really know - nor do I care exactly.

Some of my experiences will precede yours by a summer or two, old friend, but then we’ll eventually meet!  I had to move on with the close of the Bicentennial camp season but you continued on at Ahwahnee for a bit longer, continuing the tales from there.  So, throw a few more logs on the old campfire, boss.  May it brightly burn in both of our collective memories.

August 8, 2007

Epilogue:

Gladis Bergner died in February of 2005.

Gene Bergner was never quite the same after losing Glad, his bride of 60 years.

He died of stomach cancer in December of 2005.  He never complained.  In fact, he never let on to me that he was so gravely ill – not even when we last spoke on his eighty-fifth birthday, just three months prior to his passing.  Fortunately, Gene was now in the gentle care of his daughter, Claudia, and her husband Rich. 

I had mentioned to my old friend, in that last phone call, that when my time was up, I wanted my ashes to be spread along Inspiration Point – up at old Ahwahnee  of course.  Gene thought that was a fine idea.  His somewhat melancholy mood suddenly lightened as we said our goodbyes.

When Claudia called to inform me of his passing, she said that her dad had changed his mind about wanting his ashes spread out at sea, as originally had been planned.  In fact, he told her that he now wanted his ashes spread off of Inspiration Point – and to talk to me about seeing to it.  I fessed-up that I was to blame for the change in venue no doubt.  Claudia and family thought it was a good idea nonetheless.  And so, we started to plan for a spring reunion at camp.

Gene’s ashes were spread along Chapel in the Pines, which is just feet from Inspiration Point in May of 2006.   It was a simple ceremony.  There were just eight of us that day: Claudia, Rich, Gene’s two grandchildren, his sister, Jeff Vaughn, Fred La Velle and me.  We spent three hours at the point telling one another our favorite stories about Gene and Gladis.  I theorized that the rain and snow of seasons to come would roll some of Gene’s ashes down the steep hill and eventually bring him to Deep Creek way below.  From there that melodic waterway would find its way to points far beyond. Gene always was a traveling man.  We were fortunate to have both he and Glad looking out for us on that old mountain for the dozen years that they called Ahwahnee home.  Now, at least part of him was home once more.

When we left camp we drove into Running Springs where we had lunch, all the while telling more stories of  Gene of course.  From there we parted company – Claudia and clan back to Northern California while Jeff made the drive back to Nevada.  Fred  and I headed home to Orange County. 

I had not been in the San Bernardino Mountains for twelve years.

 

It was the most beautiful late spring day – a perfect prelude for summer.


Chapel in the Pines, May 2006