Kurland saves the canoe.
When I was about sixteen years old I joined the Snappers Boys Club. We had our meetings once every two weeks at the Neighbourhood Center, a gathering place for young people,. We played games like ping pong, darts and sometimes had dances with the girls that also belonged to clubs that met at the Center. Our mentor was Mr.Lewis, whose regular job was as a school teacher, he also owned a summer camp for young kids about 45 miles from Philadelphia. Belonging to the Snappers was an honor, It was sort of exclusive.
One winter Mr. Lewis invited the club members to spend a weekend at the camp. We all boarded the train at The Reading Terminal on Market Street. As I recall it was a cold winter and we would be sleeping in the unheated cabins that the campers used during the summer. So we brought sleeping bags and hoped for the best.
When we arrived at camp we were taken to our cabin by the caretaker’s wife. They had a nice house on the top of the hill that was warm and inviting, but we were going to sleep in an unheated cabin. We set to work building a fire and in a short time the ice that was on the roof was dripping onto the floor of our cabin.
After we were settled in Gene Kurland, his brother, Leon Goldberg and I decided to have a look around the camp. We found our way down to the creek where we uncovered some canoes that had been stored for the winter. We were city boys and had no experience at all with canoes, but decided to launch one and be adventurous. It was cold enough for there to be just slightest film of ice on the water. Leon and I along with Kurland’s brother slid into the canoe to the tune of a slight sound of crackleing ice. What did we know, we were fearless. About a quarter of a mile from the dock was a slight drop and a beautiful waterfall, that would be our destination. We thought we would just get close enough to see the falls and then turn around and return. We got about ten feet from the dock when for some unkown reason Kurland’s brother stood-up. Almost immediately the canoe started to roll, at first gently then as we tried to stop the rocking it became more violent until we were upside down and in the cold water. We found our way back to the dock in our wet clothes and just stood and looked as the canoe headed downstream toward the waterfall.
As we rushed up the hill to the caretaker’s warm house I turned, there was Kurland stripping off his clothes. He even took off his underwear and jumped into the creek, completely naked, after the canoe. In amazement the three of us watched as Kurland tied up the canoe and then naked and blue ran past us like a blue flash. To this day I can still see that naked blue boy running up the hill.
