Latham Springs - Part 5

12^th Grade – Boys of Summer

Sorry Carly, but we were the Originals. And in this instance… the best.

Ever.

The 1992 11^th/12^th Grade Boys were legendary. For years, among those who were around, when they would discuss the best groups ever, the conversation started and ended here. Ironically, if I remember correctly, our Senior Girls actually tied us for best camp group. While that kinda stunk, it was also cool. The Class of 1992 was a legendary class… consistently among the best groups to ever walk Latham Springs. It was poetic, I guess, that we’d end our reign together on top.

But, from a journey that began in 7^th grade till now, our entire class ran Latham Springs that year. And while everyone competed, after all the success we’d had in our time there, everyone knew there would be no lapse in focus. No hiccups. This was a victory parade… and everyone else was invited.

The competition between us and the Senior Girls was intense, but we were both genuinely happy for each other’s success. When they won, we won. When we won, they won. That year wasn’t so much about winning it all. That was a foregone conclusion… it was about experiencing it all along the way.

I could talk about our Pep Rally or Talent Show. They were cool. So were our props. We had two different group specific shirts in addition to a pair of windshorts. Caps. Bats. Other stuff too. Heck, we had so much stuff, they actually created a rule to prevent groups from going so overboard. Once they start making rules to stop you, you know you did something big. J (Wouldn’t be the last time they made rules to stop some of the things my groups did, lol.)

But while many of my memories revolve around the competition stuff, that year held so many more.

One of which was a certain 6^th grade girl who happened to take a liking to me. She was cute and fun and would send me multiple Bowls O’ Fun at dinner time. I’ll call her Dissy Chravis, for fear of embarrassing her, but to this day, she’s still a great friend of mine. I’ve watched over her like a big brother, and while we are connected through Facebook but don’t talk all that much… I can’t NOT think of her when I think of my senior year at camp.

The poems that started as a junior only improved. The cool part about them though, wasn’t really what I wrote… but how people reacted. Without trying to sound arrogant, when you give people what they want, they’ll love you for it. And, of any year I remember, I felt the love. People I never knew would come up and talk to me... Say ‘hi.’ Ask my opinion on a cheer/chant… whatever. I KNOW this all sounds egotistical, but it had the opposite effect. It was insanely humbling to me.  I think people saw me just live up camp the best I could. It wasn’t about being better than anyone else (as a group or individually), I was just finishing up a journey through six years of camp that I knew would never come back. I lived it up. Soaked it all in.

That week was… perfect. I was in the place I cherished most. I knew that life was about to get more complicated. That’s what happens when you grow older. But, for one week… things were… perfect.

With all the attention I got that year, it also changed my own group’s view of me. In the past, I was the one asking what our next plans were. What were we doing at the mic? I wasn’t the guy in the back, but on the side. As the week wore on, I was in front. I never really noticed this until we had a dispute on the way to our cabin about something we should do for Talent Show. One of the most popular guys had a pretty big disagreement with some others, and he turned to me and I’ll never forget these words… “Sammy, you’re one of the leaders… what do YOU think?”

Now, don’t misconstrue me here. He was asking me my opinion as much in hope that I was on his side as anything. He didn’t really care what I thought unless it supported him. He wasn’t asking or my all-knowing guidance and insight. I know that. But, the fact that he even turned to me revealed that (a) not only do I have a little clout, but (b) I was viewed as a leader. Maybe not HIS leader, but A leader.

We all know there are ‘tiers’ to the social hierarchy in high school, and this guy was at the top. While I have made a life of not really worrying about that stuff, I WAS cognizant of where I stood on that totem pole. His turning to me sticks with me, even to this day.

I could talk about other things… the Camper/Sponsor softball game that we won (campers NEVER won), how Clean Cabin went… Spirit Sticks… but, if you’re still reading this, you’re probably ready to wrap up...

Awards night… I know this blog is getting long, but I could write a novel about that night. If there’s any night I remember as much (or more) than the Night I Cried Myself to Sleep, it’s this one.

Its sticks out, not only for what happened, but for what it meant to me personally. See, I was always the kid people picked on. I was easy pickings. I was goofy. Weird. Obnoxious. Nice. Never quite ‘popular’ (whatever that really means), but I was able to make friends with most anyone. If my sister was the popular pretty one (and she was), I was the weird ‘Marlena’s brother’. Nice kid, but always made fun of and picked on. I won’t name names, but some of you reading this may have contributed to that. J

Well… when Todd Warner told me he voted me for Favorite Camper, that blew my mind. When Marlena told me I got a lot of votes as a junior, that really shocked me. I know how these things go, so I figured I’d get a few votes this year. At least from my girlfriend and, uh… Dissy Chravis. J

Never in my wildest did I think it would ever happen, but Mr. Picked-On-Geek-Dork-Weird-Obnoxious was voted Favorite Camper of 1992.

Now, I’m 37 years old and long past worrying about whether everyone likes me or not, but I’ll tell you… from where I came to winning that award… It still makes me feel good. I know it sounds corny and everything. I know the, “Dude… it’s been 20 years… high school… yadda yadda”… I get all that. But for someone who cherished Camp like I did, it’s like I just won Super Bowl MVP at the time.

I recently spoke with Stephanie Edwards (Mashhoon) and we spoke a little about camp that year. She didn’t even remember SHE won Favorite Girl Camper… I felt a little weird because it’s such a cool memory for me.  All about perspective, people. J

There really wasn’t much suspicion as to who would win Best Camp Group. It was the Boys of Summer, AJ’s Bouquets… and everyone else. This was going to be a coronation of a career spent in the PPBC youth group.

As expected, the Class of 1992 really WAS the CLASS of 1992.

I remember thinking of all the people who came through the youth group that I saw as seniors. David Fish. James Thomas. Shari Peters. Kristi Trout. Mark Clements. Chris Black. My sister. I was now where I saw all these people years earlier. We were now part of that legacy. People in the younger groups would remember Byron Jackson. Patrick McCrory. Andy Bennett. Stephanie Edwards. Randi Spence. Sammy McMahan. (and some wouldn’t have the foggiest idea who we were… lol)

You never know who’s looking at you. Never know who notices who you are. What you do… what you say… how little the littlest things you do are always remembered by SOMEBODY.

There’s a responsibility to that. After making fun of the crying seniors when I was in 7^th grade… I finally GOT it.

During the senior buffet, Cliff has his ice sculpture out. The cafeteria was candlelit. Any senior who wanted to speak got the chance. Some of us were serious. Some of us made jokes. But, all of us got to experience Camp.