Times Gone By ----

Seventy-one years ago when I was just seven years old, after begging my parents help, together we scraped up the money to send me to summer camp. This was during the depression and I know they sacrificed to raise the money for my week of vacation. This was prior to WWII and my good friend, John, from across the street went also. The cost of one week at Camp Crosley on Lake Tippecanoe was, as I recall, about $6.00 or $7.00. I raised my part of the cost, which couldn't have been more than $1.00 or $2.00 at the most, by pulling my wagon through the alleys picking up bottles and scrap metal from trash to sell at Abromson's Junk Yard. Camp Crosley was sponsored and possibly owned by the Muncie, Indiana, YMCA. It was run by a Mr. Pettijon and was operated on the principles espoused by the YMCA. I was very fortunate during those times to go that first year and by saving my nickels and dimes each year hence and with my parents help I was able to go to Camp Crosley for four years in all.

Today, after my daily walk at the Mall while enjoying my cup of coffee at the Food Court, I spotted a young lad in a sweat shirt that had "Camp Crosley" emblazoned across the front. He didn't look to be more than 8 or 9 years old and was with his mother and a younger sister. I watched them for a while, wondering about Camp Crosley and if it still existed. My wife accuses me of not being very friendly with strangers but this time my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to talk to them. I went over to their table, excused myself and asked if this was the same Camp Crosley I had attended as a boy. It was. The lad was a year or so older than I was his first year and I think he was only impressed that someone as old as I could have gone to the same camp as he. His mother was friendly and in our conversation I asked if she would mind telling me what the present cost is for a week. She said they had spent somewhere around $450.00 but that included a couple of extras, sailing instruction,etc. Possibly a little more than a young lad with a wagon could raise. I thanked her for letting me interrupt them and excused myself. Small world!