I recently started an email dialogue with my brother Dan about camp. We hit on a number of topics. Dan’s 20 months younger than I am and we both went to camp at Shewahmegon for seven years. Dan was always in the cabin just below mine, age-wise.

Some quick explanation of the interview that follows: My bits of the conversation are in bold. The rest is all Dan. I’ve cleaned up the grammar throughout for readability. I’ve also added some explanatory notes in parentheses where Dan and I had just been using nickname’s or short hand. Dan’s parenthetical asides should be obvious in comparison.

Now, enough introduction—here’s Part 1 of our discussion.

On the right, Dan Gibbons on the A-Field at Camp Shewahmegon. The year: 2000. Also featured, Ted Marino.

What’s your earliest memory of wanting to go to camp and what did you think the experience would be like before spending a summer at Shewahmegon?

DAN GIBBONS: I can’t particularly recall a single moment where I wanted to be at camp. As I first thought about, I thought I recalled a moment at some family reunion… However, after thinking about it, I remembered we visited camp while on vacation at Eagle Nob. I remember thinking the place seemed so cool—very happening! So much happening in the eyes of a young kid… I have slight memories of walking around on the dirt path from the waterfront to the a-field.  

One major thing that led me (and I am sure you) to want to go there is I recall knowing my two older cousins went (to Shewahmegon). The way they kind of talked about it, or just their attitude about it, made it seem like it was really awesome. Knowing that our cousins liked it so much and that our uncles went—it seemed kinda like family tradition. So, I knew I wanted to go, because if they liked it, well, I would probably like it.

Of course, I was much more nervous when it came time to (actually) go. But then I decided I was just excited. Almost like a kid before college… just so ready to go and experience a new adventure.

Our cousin Ryan Bergstrom in 1997. One of the reasons we went to camp.

If memory serves, I fell and skinned my knee around Cabin 15 (Our cousin Ryan’s cabin the year we visited… I think.) and had to go to the nurse during that visit.

When you got to camp that first year, what are your best memories? I know you have a great story about peeing in a tent at Two Lakes Campground…

DAN GIBBONS: Man, first memories of camp… I feel like I have a lot of distinct memories from the first year of camp. Probably because it was the first year, I can clearly identify those memories as (being from the) first year. Other memories can kind of blend in to just camp and then you have to think about what year that really was.
 
I can remember being on the bus riding up (to Shewahmegon). It seemed like such a long ride that first time with a combination of uncertainty, not knowing many people and scary older kids on the back of the bus.
 
Weird note: I remember waking up in the early morning It was light out and we were still on the bus. I had this weird boogery shit all over me. It was a super weird consistency. I still, to this day, don’t know if some prank was played on me in my sleep or if I just sneezed all over myself.
 
I remember getting to camp and having the staff there. Everything seemed very new. I remember thinking it was kind of a big moment when they were assigning us counselors—knowing you were going to be given to that person who would look out for your group for the whole summer.
 
The things I remember the most from the first year were the camping trips, goofing in the cabin and the fireworks at the Johnson residence. I still remember those as being one of the coolest shows because it was so dark out on the lake. Oh, I also remember the first counsel fires and trying to learn songs! David (Will) was in my cabin, so he basically came out of the womb signing Johnny Verbeck (Weird visual there!) and I felt left out not knowing them.
 
Within the first years we were at camp, I really remember the evening and weekend games! I think the camp’s population (attendance) was higher in our younger years, so the games were fun. As the years went on, I felt we played the games less and less. Especially in my last year as JC (Junior Counselor).

Dan as a Junior Counselor on a day off in 2001. We're at the mini golf course in Hayward, WI.

Also, thinking back, what do a 20-year-old college kid and 35ish Swedish giant talk about? 

…Oh boy, do I have to pee. But as Thor is a monster of a man and I think he will crush me if I bother him, I am scared to ask. I don’t know why I was so scared to ask, maybe it was that whole mentality of “do you have to go now” and then feeling guilty when you gotta go two exits later on a road trip. Or the whole I was “supposed to be in bed” thing.
 
Anyway, I managed to fall back a sleep. While sleeping, I peed all over myself—my sleeping bag and my mattress pad. I also managed to do the same to David’s gear. When we first woke up, there was your normal morning confusion. That morning also had the confusion of trying to figure out what that smell was and where it came from (Pee and me). There is a quick moment of denial and disbelief and then you just accept it.
 
One of my vivid memories was the last morning when we were getting picked up by (Camp co-owner and co-founder) Bill (Will) to because it was raining really bad. We ate cereal in the rain and then the counselors, along with a couple JCs, had to paddle the canoes back by themselves. I remember Thor getting in the back of a canoe (with nothing else in it) and seeing how monstrous he truly was—the whole front of the canoe was out of the water!
 
I also remember riding back to camp in the old (Old!) maroon and white van from Twin Lakes to camp.  Being in that van was a good summary of camp in general, because camp was basically like going back in time. Whether it was going back in time because of the lack of technology or just the fact that the style and feeling of camp was stuck in the ’60s and ’70s, it was like a little time capsule up in Drummond, Wisconsin!

Dan as Cyclops on the A-Field in 2000.

It’s funny to look back on those summers when we were younger. I can never tell if everything was bigger (The games, the camp population, etc.) or if we were just smaller. Back then camp was such an unknown that, even after the first year, there was still such an exciting air of mystery and discovery about it as you learned more about the Shewahmegon Way (a.k.a. the Law of the Jungle) each year.

Speaking of The Law of The Jungle—which became a term synonymous for the weird but fun rules of camp after hearing that phrase uttered numerous times during BIll Will’s Rudyard Kipling readings—camp was full of inside jokes, running jokes, camp-wide slang and gags. Out of the many camp conversational aspects and turns of phrase, which ones do you reminisce about most?

DAN GIBBONS: I honestly do not remember the “law of the jungle” phrase being mentioned all that much at camp, but it sounds vaguely familiar. I think you’re being a year older and having a cooler cabin helped you to be more “in the know” at camp than I.

Running jokes… I mean I can remember a lot of phrases that I still go through from time to time…

-”NOW BOYS!”
-”Cool beans”: While used all the time, I still am holding onto the dream that Lee Graves came up with this phrase!
-”Hey buddy!”
-”You kill it you fill it.”
-”Spring Chicken” (As in “Bobby is no spring chicken…”)

More than just phrases, things that really define camp language and always make me think of camp are certain words that we used there. When I hear them I almost always have a different definition in my mind from other people since I first heard these words at camp. Now, both their meaning and visual representation mean something very distinct in my mind.

-Latrine
-Waterfront
-Woodshop
-Cookout
-Council fire
-GORP
-Supper
-Bunkhouse

While I rarely hear some of these words, they make me think of camp. They are a representation of camp, these words that are so distinct to camp.

The Gibbons Bros in 2000.

You know what just came to mind? Bucket golf. What a ridiculous activity! I loved it, though!  There were a lot of really silly activities at camp. You needed a lot of activities because you could easily get tired of even the best activities. You know what came up the other day in conversation with someone? I don’t even remember how… the activity Turtle Hunt.

That sounds like the silliest activity. It was so distinct to camp… going out just looking for turtles! The only thing I didn’t enjoy was putting them in the reptile pit. So sad!

Speaking of the reptile pit, wasn’t that a big area of Bill Will’s “erosion?” I felt like there was always a joke about erosion due to campers running down the hills.

How a bout “raking the beach?” That was a duty that was pretty distinct to camp in my mind.  
Ha! Oh man, you are dredging up some great memories!

I remember the erosion thing too, but can’t remember why. Maybe it was like Bill’s croquet etiquette demonstration. I have a photo of him shooting hook shots on the basketball court. I should dig that up!

Ok, ok... It's not a hook shot, nor is it a very good photo, but that's Bill Will shooting hoops. Found it!

Part 2 coming soon! Stay tuned!Similar Posts:

• Crossed Paths: Part 2 of both An Interview with Dan Gibbons and An Interview with David Will
• Cyclops on the A-Field: A Comic-Con mini-hiatus post.
• Where there’s a Will there’s a way: An interview with David Will: Part 1

Adam "Pressy" Presbroten

Flat out one of my favorite people ever, I have about nine million amazing and embarrassing stories about Pressy (Adam’s nickname, cleverly derived from his last name… which is Presbroten). That’s how it goes when you live in a tiny cabin with a guy for five years. I’ll get to all those glorious tales later for reasons I’ll explain in my next post…

For now…

This photo was taken when Pressy and I were JCs (Junior Counselors, remember?) living in Cabin 4. Pressy is sitting on the gas station sign of the Drummond Conoco, known familiarly as Bear Country. Drummond, the nearest town to camp and Bear Country was a frequent, almost necessary, stop for anyone leaving Shewahmegon. Whether you were grabbing a soda pop, a novelty t-shirt or swiping a porn magazine (Mr. Trieshmann…), Bear Country was the closest bit of civilization to our remote boys camp.

This photo is also a great indication of the truly gorgeous summer days you get in the Northwoods.

Pressy is the man. ‘Nuff said.

———

A historical note…
Please enjoy the gas prices listed at Bear Country. Those prices were not an uncommon site in rural America back in the year 2000 (or was it 2001?). How far we’ve come…Similar Posts:

• A road, a man: Owen
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• Cyclops on the A-Field: A Comic-Con mini-hiatus post.

Owen Aronson on Owen Avenue.

This photo was taken when Owen and I were first year JCs. (Junior Counselors, both 15 years old at the time, I believe.) We were both on a day off, but being 15, neither of us could drive. So we ended up being dropped off in the closest town to camp: the tiny town of Drummond, Wis. During this afternoon visit with no ride to go anywhere more interesting, I remember that Owen and I (plus another party… I forget now who that was. Fernando Gasca?) went to the Drummond Public Library (Two elementary school-style trailers pushed together during, my time on staff at least. Like this, but more rustic looking.) to check our email and watch VHS tapes. During this occasion, Owen popped in “The Shining” and we watched about two thirds of it—the most I’ve ever seen of the film. Anywho, that’s what us young staffers did on days off without a car to hop in.

Also… a bit of description I omitted, Owen Avenue was in Drummond, and so I had to coax Owen into a quick photo.

Now for some additional info…
Owen is wearing a campaign hat featuring an advertisement for the aforementioned Gary Sherman. Also, Owen’s jean shorts with a racing stripe are yet another example of the ridiculous clothes often worn at camp—whether thrift or older garments relegated to the backwoods, we were an oddly garbed group.

That’s all for now, folks! Thanks for checking in! Also, please forgive the overly wordy nature of this post. HBO’s “John Adams” was on in the background, so the eloquent acting of Paul Giamatti may have informed the writing featured here. Similar Posts:

• Pressy!
• Chipmunk Chatter: Vol. 53, No. 6
• Random Recollections—A messy first

I nabbed these goofy sunglasses from someone (Chris Arnold?) and "X-Men" came out that summer. What do you expect?

My Kodak disposable couldn't handle a shot at dusk back then. I've lightened this in Photoshop to show off a bit of the A-Field (aka the Athletic Field).

This photo features so many aspects of camp I plan to talk about later on this blog including the A-Field, the goofy items we used to purchase at thrift stores or the uniquely bizarre grocery stores of Northern Wisconsin, living without electricity and how schedules are determined by the 8 p.m. dusk of summer, my somewhat embarrassing and lamentable love of visors during my teenage years… there’s a lot I could touch on here, but I must pack my bag for San Diego, so I’ll keep it brief.

The summer of 2000 was my first year on staff. That meant, it was my first year with days and nights off to visit the small towns surrounding the remote Camp Shewahmegon. This was also the same summer that “X-Men” came out.

One night off while the rest of the staff out on the town went to carouse at the Hayward Musky Festival, Adam Kwasman, Bill Trieshmann and I went to see “X-Men” at the glamorous Hayward Cinema 4. (Actually, despite it’s small theater number size, the Hayward Cinema 4 was newly remodeled and quite nice.) Aside from loving the movie and having it inform this photo that proves I’ve at least been a huge nerd since age 15, I remember Adam Kwasman going on and on about how much he loved the opening sequence featuring a boyhood Magneto living through the terror of the Holocaust and how that lead to Professor Xavier’s arch nemesis suffering the stress that manifested his mutant abilities. It’s a badass movie sequence, make no mistake, but I remember Adam praising it almost to the point of hyperbole.

Recounting this viewing of “X-Men” actually reminds me that it was over a similarly nerdy moment that I think Adam and I actually became friends.

Camp’s fiftieth anniversary fell during the summer of 1997. One weekend, all of camp’s alumni were invited up to Drummond (At five miles away down a winding country road, the nearest town to camp.) for a big celebration. While camp was filled to the brim with SROs (Suddenly Returning Old-Timers: a phrase coined by Mac Harris.), our cabin groups were sent off on a hike to make room for the visitors. My counselor Ben McIntyre was the cousin of Bunkhouse’s counselor, my counselor a year prior in Cabin 12, John Kroupa. The duo decided to take both Cabin 14 (My cabin, the third oldest.) and Cabin Bunkhouse (The oldest cabin.) out on the same hike. You know what they say, “Less boredeom in numbers.” While Bunkhouse was full of some rad dudes, I wouldn’t have said my cabin group was particularly close to those cool, older campers. After that hike, I think our groups kind of formed a bond.

Anywho, thrown together by the aforementioned and unfavorable hiking situation, our cabin groups took to chatting and bullshitting in the hopes we could make the whole affair more enjoyable. Somewhere along the way, Kwasman and I started talking about superheroes. In hindsight, as I mentioned, I think this was when the two of us became buddies. Sadly, I don’t remember much of the actual conversation, but the one tidbit that does stick out is when Kwasman started talking about how much he liked Green Arrow. I was pretty much a strict Marvel reader at the time and had no idea who the Emerald Archer was, but years later when I became familiar with the superheroics of Ollie Queen, I remember thinking it was fitting that Kwasman was a Green Arrow fan and seemed destined for a life of politics. (Green Arrow’s known for a being a staunch liberal and was even the mayor of DC’s fictional Star City for a while.)

That’s all for now, folks! I’ll see you back here next week for more tall tales of summer camp life!

An art print of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox that I purchased from Banner Year Press at this year's Stumptown Comics Fest. I'm comics crazy right now!

• All Day Hikes
• Regarding archery in comics and a long, long absence…
• Pressy!

Cece and Pressy.

Seriously, I love these guys. If I were to sit down and really think about it, I have no doubt I could recount at least five stories starring either of them that would make you laugh so hard milk would squirt out of your nose (even if you hadn’t recently drank any milk!). Funny guys, each with a great sense of humor, and I doubt many folks who attended camp could claim such a rad pair as friends.

I believe this photo was taken at Picnic Point during the previously mentioned All Day Hikes, which would place this photo in the year 2000. Pressy would have been around 15 years old and a first year JC while Cece, I believe, would have been about 12 years old and in Cabin 12.

This photo is as good a place as any to point out a phenomenon I’ve come across while flipping through these old pictures. The people, scenes and events featured in these snapshots are all recognizable and memorable, but I’m amazed how many bits of wardrobe are instantly recognizable as well. Shewahmegon wasn’t a place where you’d dress to impress, but after weeks and years of people sporting the same old shirts day in and day out, certain designs must have been burned into the back of my mind. I can’t for the life of me remember who the Dragons on Cece’s shirt are (Arena League Football? Minor League Soccer?), but the design is instantly and inexplicably familiar. Between the same worn-out old t-shirts and outlandish thrift wear (More on that later!), camp clothing wasn’t stylish in a traditional sense, but it was definitely memorable. Similar Posts:

• Pressy!
• Round the blazing…
• Crossed Paths: Part 2 of both An Interview with Dan Gibbons and An Interview with David Will

While the men of Shewahmegon had flexed our vocal chords with many more songs than the ones featured here around the Council Fire or in Lodge, this is a nice smattering of songs that demonstrate the goofy and folky tunes we used to belt out at camp.

A collection of favorites, including the Boo Boop, The Far Northland and the Frozen North.

One of my favorite, and one of the goriest camp songs we had: Johnny Verbeck.

Hot damn, this was a great tune!

Many thanks to Brent for scanning these puppies in, and if you have more song sheets please drop me a line at jimgibbons1 [at] gmail [dot] com. I’d love to get some more up here!Similar Posts:

• A group shot of Cabin 11 circa 1995
• In memoriam: William T. “Bill” Will
• Chipmunk Chatter: Vol. 53, No. 6

While the Chipmunk Chatter was undoubtedly a great source of information for most parents, it’s true potential was achieved when staff and some savvy campers worked inside jokes into articles and used it as a way to make each other laugh. I remember working an inside joke into a report I wrote about a 1997 camping trip on the St. Croix River. Former Shewahmegonite and Wisconsin State Legislator Gary Sherman (Now a judge on the Wisconsin State Court of Appeals, believe it or not.), who accompanied us on our trip, made a particularly delicious campfire meal on the final night along the river. A tasty mixture of rice, cream sauce and chicken, someone in my cabin (Cabin 14, for the record.) dubbed the dish “Mama Gary’s Chicken St. Croix.” I’m pretty sure I can claim credit for coining the dish’s name, and I’m positive I’m the first person to ever put it into print. Noted as one of the highlights of our trip, I reported that “Mama Gary’s Chicken St. Croix” was a meal worth remembering, and what do you know, I remember it to this day!

It’s kind of crazy to look back at The Chatter after working as a writer for a legitimate newspaper, national magazine and a major online comic book news site, but that tiny pamphlet was the first print publication I cut my teeth on. Kind of crazy, indeed. Another semi-crazy tidbits about the newsletter was how Chatter articles were penned. Scribbled in a plethora of appalling forms of pre-teen to teenage male handwriting, the quickly scrawled articles were then transcribed by The Chatter‘s editor. Having done my fair share of sifting through poorly written reporter’s notes and transcribing plenty of my own chicken scratch, I definitely have a whole new appreciation for the work Becky Will and Cathy Laatsch (the Chatter editors during my years at camp) put into this publication. They definitely deserve a Locomotive.

Now, without further ado, the final Chipmunk Chatter from camp’s second to last year…

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Note: I believe I have more of Chipmunk Chatters tucked away somewhere at my folks’ house, but if you’re a Shewahmegonite with Chatters or songsheets at home, I’d love to scan them in and record them. Drop me a line at jimgibbons1 [at] gmail [dot] com if you have anything like that you’d like posted. Similar Posts:

• Introducing “Chipmunk Chatter”——>
• Second generation Shewahmegonites
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All hiked out or maybe ready for more at (i believe) Picnic Point.

Each year during the fifth and sixth weeks of camp, the two oldest cabins (Bunkhouse and Cabin 15 during my seven years at Shewahmegon.) would go on a 10-day canoeing trip in Canada. While the Border Trip was an amazing experience, the real kooky fun was happening back at camp. Taking a break from the everyday Shewahmegon routine, Border Week was filled with all sorts of crazy activities including a mud-chucking battle in a swamp, campers throwing whip cream pies into Staffer faces, beach parties and much, much more.

In 2000, my first year on staff in the illustrious position of Junior Counselor, the entire camper population and counselor staff went out one day during border week on a series of All Day Hikes. After trudging through the woods, we stopped at Picnic Point to cook Puffers (more on these later!) and take a break before heading back into the woods to venture forth to our next destination. I have a lot of pictures from this brief stop and plenty of fun memories even though it only encompassed two or three hours of my entire camp career. That was always one of the interesting things about camp (As far as my memory is concerned, at least.), certain days just ended up being a ton of fun for no particular reason. All Day Hikes was not a favorite event among the campers or staff, so maybe that led to all of us banding together to make the best of a bad situation—I don’t know. Perhaps when camp shrunk as the oldest cabins left, the rest of us—shocked at the loss of our, dare I say, brothers—reformed our bonds of friendship stronger and faster in their absence only to welcome them back joyfully 10 days later into a more cohesive web of camp family. Either way, I remember this particular cookout was extremely enjoyable and chock-full of some seriously great bonding. Similar Posts:

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