Christmas in August

Christmas in August

Noel Laflin

12-14-15

 An impromptu Christmas in August gathering at Green Valley Lake, 8-2-15

Sometime in the early 1970’s, the traditional end of the year staff party switched from being a date night with girlfriends, held in the cozy old Scoutmaster’s lounge, to a Christmas in August themed affair in the mess hall – just for staff.

The heretofore parties marking the end of camp, the buttoning down for the off-season, and the final farewells to old and new friends alike took on a distinctively differ feeling with the change in venue – a change that I was grateful for as I never had a girlfriend to invite to camp anyway.

In the old days, the lounge was hastily cleaned and a stack of firewood was laid within the ancient stone fireplace.  The soda machine was moved from the trading post and placed beneath the covered patio; the drinks were free.

Girlfriends or wives would begin to show up about the time guys were still fighting over the single sink and mirror in the old head on staff hill - trying to get in a last minute shave or tame a troublesome cowlick.

Meanwhile, Fred La Velle wondered if his invited date, Trisha Nixon, would show for the party in 1969.

She did not unfortunately.  Just as well, as all of those Secret Service fellows would have put a damper on couples attempting to take a stroll in the woods no doubt.

Tommy James and the Shondells, The Animals, Herman’s Hermits, and The Beach Boys could be heard coming from someone’s reel-to-reel, now moved into the old lounge – the beat-up furniture having been pushed up against the pale white walls so a small dance floor could be had in front of an inviting fire.

And those of us without girlfriends would shyly make our way to the soda machine, maybe take a peek inside where couples danced, and eventually slink away to the pool steps and hold council amongst ourselves – retelling favorite anecdotes from the summer, sneaking in a smoke or two, and being content with a cool summer night, bright stars above, and thoughts of the long drive home in the morning.

All of this changed, however, when someone had the idea of making the year-end gathering a Christmas party; the rationale being that we were a family bereft of actually gathering together in December, so why not do it early – Christmas in August, as it became known.  I am pretty certain that it was Gene Bergner’s idea.

And so the mess hall was decked out with fresh cut boughs of evergreens, and a perfect young white fir selected and then sacrificed to be our fully decorated Christmas tree. A fire was laid in the fireplace and Christmas tunes emanated from someone's borrowed stereo or eight track.

The cooks and kitchen staff labored all day with the food preparations.  Turkeys were roasted, drippings saved and thickened into gravy, potatoes peeled then mashed, day old bread turned into stuffing, cranberries cooked, pumpkin pies baked.

There was a feast, followed by awards for some, presents for all, and testimonials from many.

By the end of the night we said our last goodbyes and headed out into the cool mountain air, thinking about the long drive home in the morning.

The party theme may have morphed over the decades, but the final thoughts of camp rarely did.