Those Post Cards

By: Larry Gordon

One of the requirements of summer back in the day was we had to write home at least once a week. To achieve that objective, our parents packed a number of stamped postcards so all we had to do was conveniently scribble out a few lines on the cards just to let them know we were okay and having a pleasant time in camp.

We did the same thing for our kids when they went to sleepaway camp, although there was a significant difference between the two scenarios. In our case, we did write a few lines on the postcards and asked our counselor to mail them together with the postcards of our bunkmates. In the case of our kids, they brought back the unused postcards that we gave them at the beginning of camp.

Sometimes we didn’t find the previous year’s postcards until the new year arrived and we had to pack them up once again hoping they would finally be used during the new summer season.

Most of the time, my mom would write the letters to me and my brother Yossy as we were always in the same camp. She had a nice smooth handwriting that was easy to read. She was born in New York in 1921 and was educated in New York schools, so these things came easily and naturally to her.

My father’s handwriting was a different story. It was perfectly readable, but it had a certain distinguishing quality to it that to this day I can recognize as uniquely his.

Together with this article you will find a copy of a letter he wrote to us in camp around 1966. I found this letter packed away in boxes when I cleaned out my mom’s home quite some time ago. I genuinely enjoy reading my father’s letter over and over and can picture him sitting at his desk in his Lower East Side office and just having an impulse at that moment to quickly jot down a few lines to his two youngest kids—that’s Yossy and me—and pop it in the mail.

I don’t know about Yossy, but I can recall writing to him more than a few times. So, what can I say, that I enjoyed writing as a ten-year-old, trying to evoke some kind of reaction from my parents?

Frankly, I had an odd relationship with summer camp. That is, I didn’t like the idea of going away to camp but once I was there, I pretty much enjoyed it. I liked the other kids in my bunk too. I can still recall most of them today and when I run into one of them every now and then, it never fails to surprise me that many still have pretty much the same faces they had back then. That’s how I recognize them. It’s interesting that many of them still have those elementary school faces though they may be using a walker or a cane to make their way around. But most of them look pretty good, baruch Hashem.

I frequently observe when I encounter some of my former campmates that when you haven’t seen a person in over 50 years and you ask them what’s doing, they typically respond, “Not much.” It’s at those times that I ask myself how it’s possible that half a century can transpire and you politely inquire how a person is and what’s going on in their lives and they respond with, “Not much.” That’s just one fascinating observation.

In the letter I reprinted here, you can see that my father begins with the greeting “Dear Children.” Yes, Yossy and I were always seen as the so-called children of the family since my older brother Binyomin and my sister Peshe were four and eight years older than us, but they were seen almost as adults while we were seen as the “children.”

As you know from reading this space, Binyomin sadly passed away a week after Sukkos last year and it was shocking and difficult for us to process. Our special four-kid bond was shattered. The loss hurt us tremendously and we’re still trying to adjust to this different and new reality.

So back to that beautiful letter my dad wrote to us in camp on a Tuesday at the beginning of Tammuz. The week of Parashas Pinchas was and still is an important remembrance of days long ago and far away.

As you can see here, he opened the letter in his usual high-spirited and jovial fashion and begins by saying, “How are my two handsome sons?” This was apparently a few days before visiting day in camp so he went on to say, “I look forward to seeing you “IY’H on Sunday.”

We also looked forward to seeing our parents on visiting day. I’m not going to say we were homesick, but we wouldn’t have objected to just being home and forgetting about this camp business. It wasn’t a matter of being forced into anything, but this is where my parents felt we belonged during the summer and I’m not going to say they were wrong. It was a good and healthy thing for us kids to be doing over the summer and today my grandchildren are doing the same thing.

Even back then, I had the idea that maybe ten months of camp and two months of yeshiva would have been more suitable for most of us. I’m sure I’m not alone in this observation.

Back to that letter. He wrote, “We are very glad to see that you like camp and are having a good time.” Then the last line, “Be good, eat, learn, and play.” And he signed off, “Love and Kisses, Mommy and Daddy.”

I keep this letter in my top dresser drawer. There’s no special time to take it out and read it but somehow, it’s at this time of year that my fingers are drawn to the letter and I just pull it out and glance over the few lines.

I’m sitting here at my desk contemplating the letter now. I can’t really say what my father’s mindset was at the time more than 50 years ago. To me it looks like it was a spur of the moment decision that he just grabbed a piece of his stationery and jotted down a few nice words that he wanted to send to us. The important thing about the letter is that it meant so much to me all those years ago and in a strange way, it means even more to me today. It’s a beautiful and deeply meaningful sentiment. The expressiveness is fresh and important. My father writes that he’s looking forward to seeing us. I see these as prophetic words. I was patient to see him back then. And today, I’m still just as patient and hopeful. 

Read more of Larry Gordon’s articles at 5TJT.com. Follow 5 Towns Jewish Times on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter for updates and live videos. Comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome at 5TJT.com and on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.