Friendships and Relationships

Separated By The Transition

Published on by Kathy Baker

 

Amy Falvey began camping at Maqua in 1970, when she was nine years old, and finished her last year in 1978 when the camp closed. Her big sister Betsy was her impetus for attending, and every year the sessions increased with her increased enjoyment of her experiences.

“The first year it was two weeks, then three weeks, then two weeks, then four weeks and then eight weeks,” she laughed, recalling that is how she remembered the years, by the amount of weeks she attended. Then their mother passed away and she skipped 1976 and 1977, returning in 1978 as a counselor.

“Both camps were struggling financially and Maqua had the better physical facility, so the two boards merged their camps, or that was my understanding. It started out badly from the minute we met at the Bay City YWCA building staging area to bus to camp. I thought this is not good. They kept changing the time we were to leave to bus up to camp and many of us had been to camp and knew the way. There must have been some internal problem, but we could see no reason why we were not on our way. It started off negatively and then when we all got to camp, we could see it hadn’t been taken care of,” said Amy.

“They hired an interesting bunch of guys and the rest were women. It was a goofy bunch. It felt like they were invading our space. It was just a weird dynamic. One director named Meg changed the colors of the staff shirts, so we were all separated in a way by our colors. Before it went co-ed all the staff wore white shirts with green trim. Now the administration wore red, the junior counselors were in navy and the counselors were in light blue. It felt splintered. There was no unity from day one. There were cliques of boys and cliques of girls and none of the girls wanted to hang out with the boys and the sense of family that we once enjoyed was lost. When I drove out of camp that last day, I was so glad to be gone and it was sad. I just thought get me out of here. The Karma was awful.”

“Nothing about it was the same. It had gone co-ed with Camp Iroquois from Sand Lake and the whole dynamic changed,” said Amy. ““I might have burned that shirt from my last year, but I still have the colored photo of all the co-ed campers and pristine copies of the “Loon” newsletters and every photo in my scrapbook.”

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Co-ed Dynamics–

Published on by Kathy Baker

The dynamics changed for Mardi Jo Link (1973-78) when Camp Maqua turned co-ed. “I never felt threatened, if anything I had a lot of friends. That time helped me form my open mindedness as a young woman with all girls around, but it went away when the boys arrived. No one felt as comfy anymore. There was an easiness to having all girls around.”

“Maqua was always my escape from the real world. When it went co-ed, it seemed like it was just like the rest of the world, even though I did have my first boyfriend at Camp Maqua when I was fifteen. Those camping years coincided with my teen years, but it certainly didn’t have the same vibes when it was co-ed. It wasn’t that” Women Can Do Anything” camp anymore. When it was just girls, it made me feel like my life was like a blank slate. I had ownership of my own life. Those years gave me a sense of permanence. Camp was really important to me. There were so many opportunities. I could ask for help and I could also help others. It was a place to show your best talents, regardless of your skills. It was a place you could be a story teller, an artist, a counselor and it was just a happy place for me.”

“I was at camp for seven years, starting when I was seven (as probably one of the youngest campers) until the year it was co-ed, “said Kellie Moore (1970-77). “Our cabin of girls that year was probably the oldest campers at the time and we were not eager to change our ways, so we spent (or were sent) off to “Primi” most of that last summer. I often wonder why they had to invite the boys!”

The girls ended up sleeping in the army tent on the raised platform off in the woods and cooked many of their own meals out there, hung out by themselves and walked to Hale Park or into town to buy candy. “We liked to do the tricks and with the boys there, it was just different. We weren’t willing to change. There were six or eight of us and we felt this sense of entitlement. We had earned our privileges as older campers and they expected us to do things a different way. It was not terrible, but we were always getting punished for our pranks. They would make us clean our cabins or some restrictions when we ran our bras up the flagpole. At that age we were really not that much into the guy dynamic and we were not happy to be part of the camp.”

Amy Johns (1967-78) was also there for the transition and agreed the dynamics changed and she hated the name change to Camp Maquois. “When there was the introduction of boys, there was all this drama about relationships. It was stressful. I think that it ruined it when the boys came into a camp that was all about girls and their relationships.  Turning co-ed meant a downturn to me. It did not become more popular. It trended downward overall. Camp changed over time, the world changed and we did, too. To me, Maqua was about the girls experience year after year.”

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The Boys Have Arrived!

Published on by Kathy Baker

Only one summer and two weeks at Maqua, but Mark Blumenthal had the distinction of being in the last group of campers to attend the camp before it closed permanently. It was the summer of 1978 and Dave McEvers had scheduled his cross-country team to utilize the camp and its  great surroundings for the team practices. His group were post-session, but the summer of 1978 had co-ed sessions.

“It was the summer between my 17th and 18th year. I remember staying in the wood- sided cabins with the bunk beds down the hill from the lodge. We would run Loon Lake, eat breakfast, hang out and eat lunch before our speed work in the afternoon. I think our high school added two girls to the team that year, but I only recall one at camp and I don’t know where they put her,” he laughed. “That summer we invited our rivals to come up to practice with us, which was probably unwise, as they bested us in regionals that year.”

Mark said the horses were there and the rowboats were still at the waterfront. The team did some swimming while they were at camp, but he learned to skim board on the flat shallow beach. There was time to also go into Tawas to the movies and play volleyball, but most of the equipment was put away.

The camp store was closed, but the boys could see camp tee shirts (white with green trim and the logo on it), so someone opened it and he still has the shirt. What he wished he had was the recipe for the pizza burgers the cook made them the summer he spent at camp! (He also has memories of listening to Bill Cosby comedy albums while they played board games in the lodge until lights out.)

The other male camper, besides staff, interviewed was Matthew Prieskorn. (His was mother is Geraldine Prieskorn, and sisters are Cara Prieskorn, Susan Prieskorn, and Rebecca Prieskorn—and all attended Maqua.

Matthew’s mother Geraldine, who had attended Camp Maqua in 1942, forced Matthew to go to camp the year it was co-ed in 1976 at the age of twelve. Unlike Mark, he was in the regular sessions. He hated it, didn’t know a soul, and left after a week. It was his first time away from home. His memories include one canoe trip, which was rained out and a pretty cool sail on the lake. He left without keeping in touch with any of his cabin mates.

What do you recall of the first arrival of the boys?

 

 

 

 

 

Families Who Felt Like Camp Was Theirs–The Batschke Family

Published on by Kathy Baker

Just as the Williams’ sisters felt like camp was their private playground during pre-camp and pos-campt season, so did Kaye Batschke and her sister Patricia. Their grandparent’s cottage was on Loon Lake, just a few doors down from the Williams’ cottage that stood beside the fence line of Camp Maqua. Her aunt and uncle, grandparents and her own family took turns using the cottage and every third week they would be up on Loon Lake with their families.

*It was the mid fifties, and although I was never a camper there, I was able to watch the fun at camp and when the camp was closed, our parents would let us roam and get out of their hair. We had a little more freedom as kids back then,” said Kaye. “We would run around, take the trails, explore, and even check into the cabins. Sometimes we would use the raft and the dock. Every once in a while the caretaker would chase us off.”

Around this time, the movie “The Parent Trap” was playing in the theatres. “The bunk beds and the cabins always reminded me of that movie. We would pretend we were in that movie. I can remember going into an old house with twig furniture and it had stairs and we played in there one time. (Dutton?) My sister was two years younger than me and Sharon and Denise Williams were around the same age, so we would all play together,” she said.

“I was only in the lodge one time, I think. I was ten or eleven and we were running around playing and I stepped in a ground nest or hive and was stung, so my Mom took me up to the nurse at the camp. She looked at it and rubbed some Calamine lotion on the stings, but told my Mom to watch for a reaction. There were no hospitals close by during that time.”

Born in 1952, she played on the property from the age of five until she turned thirteen, when her parents bought acreage and a hunting cabin. It disappointed her greatly not to have the lake and camp to enjoy, where she had learned to water ski and had been such a great part of her growing up years. “Had I stayed on Loon Lake, I think I would have stayed in a cabin for a sleepover,” she said.

Kaye’s parents, Frank and Ruth Batschke were from Bay City and her mother-in-law, June Harris had worked at the “Y” in the early forties. Her Mom also donated money for a camp scholarship, repaying what someone had done for her years ago.

 

Families Who Felt Camp Was Theirs–The Emmett Williams Family

Published on by Kathy Baker

 

In 1957 Emmet and Florence Williams made the decision to search for a summer place within a reasonable distance from their Detroit home. They discovered their dream property that year, close to two national forests and an easy three-hour drive for their two daughters Denise and Sharon, who were two and five at the time.

The shell of the summer house was already built, with knotty pine inside, just waiting for installation. Ira Schofield had developed the property, known as Palisades Park, on Hillsdale Avenue, bordering Loon Lake. Emmet, his father and uncle built the first rustic home with a water heater under the sink. Florence remembered boiling water for hot baths.

The last of the knotty pine was taken down in 1986, and the old stove was removed when the family needed extra space. Emmet retired in 1986 and the renovation on the original home was completed in 1987 with heat, insulation, larger closets and an extra bath.

“We loved it,” said Florence. “My husband worked nights and my parents lived in Ohio. We spent three weekends up north and one weekend a month in Ohio. We had no car and no phone.”

Florence recalled the fence between their property and the camp, which stood about 6-7 feet and was of natural wood. The fence stood on the property line and was installed when the camp worried that boys would move in next door to the girls camp. “We could not see over the fence, but from our dock daughters Sharon and Denise learned to swim different strokes, kayak and canoe just from watching the instructors at camp!”

“There were five stations and two L-shaped docks with two rafts. Sharon and I would watch the girls with their instructors in the canoes or playing Marco Polo from our dock,” said Denise.

The Williams’ family could always hear the singing from the campers and counselors as they ate or sat around the campfire, but on rainy days songs could be heard with stomping feet and clapping hands with the children’s voices from the lodge. “We always enjoyed all the activities from our home and it was never too loud or annoying,” said Florence. “It always appeared to be a very well-run camp until the late seventies and it just wasn’t the same with the boys there.”

“The boys would come over from Camp Mahn-go-tah-see on a giant Viking ship, calling to the girls,” she laughed. “The counselors would act nonchalant, but they probably wished for them to leave.”

One day Denise was babysitting at her home and she spotted a huge albino skunk eating baby food out of a jar in the yard that had been left out. There had been reports that the same skunk had been spotted in camp by counselors and campers alike. Denise loved living next to Maqua, but she loved it more when they left and she could ride the horses up to Chapel Hill and walk around the property. “We knew every path like the back of our hands,” she said. “Mr. Watson, who took care of the property used to call us “My girl” and we called him “My man”.

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Mixing With Mahn-go-tah-see

Published on by Kathy Baker

Some years there was fraternization with the boys’ camp and other years there was no social activities between the two camps. Marge Hasty (1946) had memories of meeting the boys by sailboat in the middle of the lake to pass “sneaky mail”, and said many of the counselors had boyfriends across the lake and this is how they passed the mail to them.

Susan Ruterbusch (1947-52) had camped in Huts 3 and 10 and later in Dutton above the Infirmary, which had wonderful windows that overlooked the lake. “The girls would dance around by the lake outside that building and say–I wish the boys from the camp across the lake could see us, but it was all wishful thinking.”

Michele Butsch “Missy” (1969-76) said she and all her friends always wanted a social or a dance with the boys from camp, but it never happened while she was there, even though she had heard other years had done just that.  Karen Magidsohn recalled the older boys had mixers with the Maqua girls, but never any dances while she was there in the sixties.

Vague memories of a mixer at some point during Ruth Wiesen’s years (1957-59) triggered the joke that the girls always bet if the boys would even show up! When the boys were asked over, it was not always an ideal situation. Sue West (1975+) recalled director Carol Neiman getting into trouble for allowing the male staff to come to Maqua for an evening of fun with the counselors. Other years there were mixers for the counselors, which was considered a big deal, according to Susan Prieskorn (1966-72), and there were no consequences.

Cindy Knapp’s two brothers camped across the lake, so she had been there on Parents’ Day, but she laughed over a mixer with the boys one summer. “We tried to get all fancied up for the dance and they seemed pretty intimidated by us.”

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