BRANT
LAKE 1949 - PRESENT
Following the instructions given to us
by Fred Smith and Joe Cooke, we arrived at the entrance to the new Camp Read
late in the afternoon the last weekend in August in 1948. Not sure just where to go, we accosted a young man who was
working near the entrance. That was
how Bob Johnson and I met Art Boland. Having
been told the new camp Ranger was a “local,” we expected a weatherworn ridge
runner with a beard. Forever
afterwards, Bob and I have referred to Art as “the man without the beard.”
Anyway, Art told us to drive up the only road in to the lodge.
“You’ll go for quite a while,” he said, “but just about the time
you think you are lost, you’ll come to two pillars, one on either side of the
road. Don’t give up hope, you are
on the right road! Just keep
driving and soon you’ll be at the main lodge.”
Well, we did that and just about the
time we were wondering where we were, we came to the pillars. We honked the horn of the old Dodge truck, shouted “Don’t
Give up Hope!” and soon arrived at the lodge.
From that day to this, anytime either of us or any of the old guard
passes those pillars (in later years – that
pillar), we still honk the horn and say those words – Don’t Give Up Hope! And,
incidentally, we never did! That night we slept on the very soft down mattresses
in the lodge – a far cry from the surplus army cots in the surplus army tents
we had become accustomed to at Camp Siwanoy for most of the summer.
John Farley
20
August 2001