92: The One Where We Met in St. Louis

 

Anita Hodder as Lucille Pentard, Jason Connell as Lon Smith, and Chandra Maloney as Rose Smith in our senior class production of Meet Me in St. Louis, Thursday, November 14 and Saturday, November 16, 1991

Out of a class of one hundred, only maybe a quarter of the class was involved in the senior class play whether onstage or in backstage capacity.  I was one of the lucky ones who had a part to play; Duffy, essentially the villain of the play.  The production was the stage play (as opposed to the musical) Meet Me in St. Louis and it is one of my favorite memories of our senior year. 

As I recall, parts were cast back around the end of September and rehearsals began, I believe, the day of the Fall Picnic. Rehearsals were held several nights a week and I remember enjoying meeting up with cast and crew to rehearse at the music building.  That auditorium came to feel like a second home, cozy and safe, where we made our way through the play. Some of my good friends were in the play as well--Greg Wedel, Carissa Berard, Jeff O'Connor, Anita Hodder, and Pamela Foard were in the cast, and J Carlos and Geri Haupt were in the crew.  And of course, Chandra Maloney had the starring role as Rose.  I also made new friends with cast members that I hadn't known very well, people like Tonya Simoes, who met through the play.

Matthew Neimeyer who played Fred Gregory and Tonya Simoes who played Tootie Smith, hanging out backstage during dress rehearsals.

There were times when the rehearsals got tiresome or frustrating. Our director Julia Smith, and her student director, our classmate Mae Williams, were tough taskmasters with high standards.  By Senior Survival I was wishing I could just quit the whole thing.  Thankfully, I didn't and in retrospect I have to give credit to our directors.  They brought out the best in us.

Our director, Julia Smith

Our student director Mae Williams applying make-up to Julie Pederson, who played the family maid Katie, while crew-member Rachel Berlus and cast member Sean Forde look on.  Sean had a very short part but it was very memorable! He played the street car conductor who burst on stage to toss the dummy that the younger girls in the Smith family made and placed on the streetcar tracks, causing the streetcar to derail.  Sean's dramatic entrance brought down the house!

The play itself was so much fun.  The story revolves around four headstrong sisters (played by Chandra Maloney, Pamela Foard, April Watson, and Tonya Simoes) who are determined to prevent their father (played by Steve Jeffers) from receiving a promotion that will move their family to New York City right as the world is coming to St. Louis for the 1904 World's Fair. There's drama, romance (one onstage kiss between Chandra and Jeff Fulford, who played her love interest), and even violence (Chandra also "slapped" Jeff in the face and threatened to throw a lamp at him.  And Tonya, who was brilliant as the youngest sister, "bit" Greg Wedel's character, Mr. Dodge on the leg).  My character Duffy was determined to get the promotion promised to the girls' father and conducts his own scheming to make that happen.  I enjoyed the play so much that 18 years later I had my theatre club, REAL Christian Theater stage Meet Me in St. Louis in the spring of 2009.  I really enjoyed revisiting the familiar material and watching my students bring the characters alive that my high school pals had once inhabited (I also took on new role, taking on the part of the father originally played by Steve in our senior year production).

Chandra and Pamela on stage as sisters Rose and Ester. Among their misadventures were swallowing chicken hearts (actually pieces of jello) in the belief that if they shook hands with the boys they loved afterwards they would be destined to marry.  Hilarity ensued as they girls struggled to avoid shaking hands with anyone else in the meantime less they end up destined to marry someone else.

April Watson as Agnes Smith. She and her youngest sister Tootie got up to all kinds of mischief, which ultimately led to the "chipped tooth" you see in this photo

Steve Jeffers as Mr. Smith holds forth, while his daughters look on

Me in character as the scheming  Mr. Duffy. In the background Rachel and Jeff Fulford who played John Shepherd share a hug.

Eventually the hours of rehearsal paid off on opening night, on Thursday, November 14, 1991.  Here's what I wrote in my journal about the performance:

"Well tonight was it. The big performance. And it was awesome. It went great. Much better than we ever expected it would.  It was so much fun!  I can hardly wait until Saturday night [the second performance]. Our senior class production of Meet Me in St. Louis was a smash hit.  I did pretty good on my parts.  I didn't forget any of my lines and the only problems I had was about saying my lines too soon and almost laughing during the funny part of Act II.  Overall, the crowd loved the play. Rumors were going around that people were saying that this was the best class play they've seen in years.  They really seemed to like it.  We got a lot of laughs and applause.  They liked the thing about Chandra "Rose" and Pamela "Ester" not being able to shake anyone's hand because they ate chicken hearts.  The only mess ups, was well, the only big one was when Jason was supposed to join Carissa on stage but couldn't because he was still changing.  Carissa ended up stuck on stage by herself for at least 3 minutes. It was awful but Carissa handled it very well.  She stayed in character and tried to make it look natural.  Finally Jason got his clothes on and the play continued.  All in all an excellent performance."

Funny thing about Jason Connell's delay in the costume change. The issue was that he couldn't find his pants. I guess he finally found some pants but he never did figure out what happened to the pants he was supposed to wear.  Only later, would I realize where those pants were.  I had put them on by accident!  I never told anyone that I was the cause of Jason's late arrival on stage. Sorry about that Jason!

Two days later was our encore performance and it went well also, though not quite as well as the first. I wrote about the second show in my journal, while at a cast party held at Chandra's house. The date was Saturday, November 16, 1991:

"Put on our final performance of "Meet Me in St. Louis".  Tonight wasn't as good but the audience couldn't tell the difference.  The loved it.  Word is this is the best play anyone has ever seen. Sounds good to me.  The only screw-up was when Chandra skipped over a page of lines in Act III.  But Carissa, Steve, and Pamela covered it, Chandra kept her cool,  the skip was (surprisingly) not noticeable and the audience never knew it happened. 

Cast party now going on here at Chandra's house.  All of the above are here [I had listed all the cast and crew in the top margin of that page of my journal].  The food is excellent and good time is being had by all."

You may not have picked it up from my journal entries, but both performances were well-received.

That darn third act was tricky.  Some of the scenes were so similar that it was easy to get them confused (and also made it easy for the audience, who didn't have a script, to not realize we'd missed some dialogue).  But Chandra and company handled the misstep like pros and the show went on.

I think senior year is where I developed my love for acting and the theatre. I would go on to start several traveling drama troupes for kids,  as well act, write, and direct on several projects for both stage and television--most recently, just last year in the short film, Rear Views.  My favorite thing about being involved in a production is the camaraderie that develops among the cast and crew as we work together to bring a story to life.  It's those memories even more than the applause that I find most rewarding.  And it all began with our senior class play.  

Crew member J Carlos and Steve Jeffers on stage during rehearsal

Crew members J & Esther Pierre Louis, and Matthew who I would like to say is studying his lines, but I suspect is simply reading a magazine

Sound tech Tanya Castor and Greg Wedel who played my boss Mr. Dodge

Jeff O'Connor who played Grandpa, the family patriarch with Carissa Berard who played Mrs. Smith

Matthew with Geri Haupt who worked on the crew in set and makeup and Anita. I feel like that is Geri's mom doing Anita's hair.

Chandra and I share the stage. One of the climatic scenes on in the third act was the confrontation between Rose and Duffy.  We were nemeses on stage, best friends in real life.

92: The One We Survived Pt 4: Souvenirs

The last full day of Senior Survival, Tuesday, November 5 is the day that has stuck with me the most out of our entire adventure.  The day is a blur.  I guess we had more classes and more activities but I did not detail these in my journal. What will stick with me forever was that last night.

Things had taken a dramatic turn with some of my classmates and when I recapped that day, the entry was short reflecting the anxiety I was feeling:

"I'm very upset and don't feel much like writing. ***** has lost it again and this time it's worse than ever.  She won't talk to anyone. . .There's nothing I can do but pray.

Nothing much else. Chris C & Joey actually were out by our camp last night. So what. Nothing but ****** seems important right now. Got in and out of trouble with Reams group. Who cares."

Everything that had seemed such a "big deal" before now paled in comparison to much weightier concerns. In my mind nothing less than life and death were at stake.  Wars with other teams seemed silly now. 

The next day Wednesday, November 6, we packed up and headed back to civilization. That evening I concluded my account of Senior Survival with a description of that memorable night.

"Aah. . .a bath, flashing toilets, a soft bed, a house, a car!  I'm glad to be home.  I'm very short on time but  I will write what I can.  About what I was upset about last night.  The situation has remained basically the same. It hasn't gotten worse, thank God. I talked to Rees and J about it last night and they understood.  It was a very spiritual, emotional time for us.  We snuck out of camp around 12:45 and went out to the meeting circle to talk.  We stayed there till like three o clock this morning talking and praying. . . 

This morning we broke camp and packed up our things.  That's really about all we did. I talked to Jenny for a real long time. It was a good talk. . .We got back around 1:20 PM"

I remember being so upset and worried for my friends. I remember sneaking out of camp and making our way down to the meeting circle, with "the stars shining like nails in the sky."  I remember sitting around the dying embers of the fire talking and praying together.  I remember J punching the air as if shadowboxing Evil itself, as if he were trying to "kick the darkness until it bleeds daylight."  In that electric moment I believed, perhaps for the first time, really believed in love, in the power of prayer, in good and evil, in God and the devil.  Everything felt so real, so urgent, so meaningful in those early morning hours.  You can chalk it up to typical adolescent angst, but I felt like the three of us experienced a sort of spiritual enlightenment that night.  It's hard to describe, but I'll never forget how it felt.  

Many years went by and one day I heard a song that took me back to that last night of Senior Survival, when we sat around the glowing goals in the shivering cold and felt like our eyes were opened and we could see things so clearly, little knowing that we were still so young.  We had no idea. Life was just happening.  I brought nothing physical back from my time on Senior Survival. I still have the army cap I wore, but nothing else.  My souvenirs are my mental pictures of everything. My memories of that night as well as so many other memories--listening to Dale, connecting with Jenny, being with Chandra, being carried by Geri, talking to Carissa,  hanging with the Turkeys, bonding with that wonderful bunch of misfits that were the class of 92--all of these are my souvenirs. 

I close my eyes and I can see them all--Carissa, Dale, Jenny (both of them), Pam, Greg, J, Rees, Geri, Chris, Heather, Jeff, Joey, Mark, Steve and so many more.

And of course, Chandra, my friend forever.  I can see her smiling, and she's so alive.

Here's to the twilight
Here's to the memories
These are my souvenirs
My mental pictures of everything
Here's to the late nights
Here's to the firelight
These are my souvenirs
My souvenirs

I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you're smiling, you're so alive
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had no idea
That life was just happening
Life was just happening

Here's to your bright eyes
Shining like fireflies
These are my souvenirs
The memory of a lifetime
We were wide-eyed with everything
Everything around us
We were enlightened by everything
Everything

So I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you smiling, you're so alive
I close my eyes and go back in time
You were just a child then, and so was I
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had no idea
That nothing lasts forever
Nothing lasts forever
Nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
You and me together
Were always now or never

Can you hear me?
Can you hear me?
I close my eyes and go back in time
I can see you smiling, you're so alive
I close my eyes and go back in time
You were wide-eyed, you were wide-eyed
We were so young, we had no fear
We were so young, we had just begun
A song we knew, but we never sang
It burned like fire inside our lungs
And life was just happening (and nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)
And life was just happening (and nothing lasts, nothing lasts forever)
I wouldn't trade it for anything
My souvenirs.

              --Switchfoot "Souvenirs"

92: The One We Survived Pt 3: Cold

 

The Wild Turkeys and Eddy Rebels at "Wild Training" class, Monday, November 4, 1991.  From Left to Right: Eugene Armstead, Greg Wedel & Geri Haupt huddled together for warmth, Jennifer Everett, Chandra Maloney, Princess Edwards, & Jon Terryn,

I don't think it was really as cold as I remember.  Not technically anyway.  I looked up the high and low recorded temperatures for Monday, November 4, 1991 and the closest I could get was this detailed record for the temperature in Lake Mary, FL. We may not have camped in Lake Mary but we were still in Central Florida and the temps recorded in Lake Mary were likely not much different than what we experienced.  The historical record shows a high of 59 degrees around 3 PM and a low of 53 degrees around 8 that morning.  For context the high today here in Ohio, was five degrees colder than the low on that chilly November morning.

Of course, we were outside the whole time. And the fifties might be fine for playing a rousing game of basketball in a t-shirt and sweats as my students did today, but not so fine for bathing.  And keep in mind we are talking about Floridians here.  Our concept of "cold" is different.

Still, what stands out most vividly for me when I think about Senior Survival was how cold it was. I remember that the staff seemed to relax the rules about physical contact amongst the students as we hugged, snuggled and huddled together for warmth. I claimed Poupa "Jenny" Marashi as my "personal warmer."  It was purely platonic of course and we weren't the only ones cuddled up. 

Me and Jenny

Here's my journal account of our second day of Senior Survival, Monday, November 4, 1991. I'm amused by how I talk is if we'd been out in the woods for weeks rather than around 24 hours:

"A good day.  Days out here have a way of being that. Not great, not awful. Just good.  I guess the inconvenience that makes it bad and the camaraderie that makes it good kind of balance each other out.

Had eggs in the Wok for breakfast and they were good even with the flecks of ashes in them. The dishes as usual were washed with sand and water. The weather was cold, colder than it has been all year.  And it only got worse. 

This morning after a rather wasted worship (Our 'sealed orders" got left outside and got soaked in the rain) the Turkeys and the [Eddy] Rebels had wild training and then the M thru P's [students with last names ending in M, N, O, or P] had the obstacle course.  All marginally fun.   Jenny Marashi served as my warmer. I've been talking to her a lot lately and she is a really sweet person. . .

Chandra Maloney wishing the paparazzo would lay off

Geri Haupt and Chandra Maloney

Some sort of a team-building activity that appears to the M-P's as Jeff O'Conner, Scott Pena, Heather Pominowski, and Hector Morales can be seen in this photo.

During lunch we practiced for the class play. Man, I'm getting really sick of that play. I'd almost like to forget it. . .

In the afternoon we did something on animals with Chuck Town--the Senior Survival man and an awesome guy--and First Aid.  We also did the Nitro Crossing.

Tonight for supper we were invited over by the Eddy Rebels for chow.  It's fortunate that they did because they didn't have water or pots, both of which the Turkey's provided and both of which they couldn't have eaten without.  It was really cool.  Eugene and Jenny Marashi did the cooking and it was great.  Chandra and Geri and Pamela and Jennifer are living in a veritable palace.  It's huge and very well put together.  Chandra and Geri did it all themselves and I was impressed.

The meeting tonight was very good.  Cheeko Cotta spoke and so did Chuck.  Chuck's story was very moving.  ***** got really upset about something and walked off. I ran after her and talked to her and Chuck came and prayed with us.  I think I did the right thing because ***** thanked me and said she was glad I came after her.

Tonight we hung out at camp.  We were pretty sure the Indians were gonna come after us to try and shave Greg's butt but they never showed.  We were ready though.  Dale about went crazy.  He had a machete and was waving it at the bushes daring someone to attack.  Eventually we hid [the machete] from him as we weren't sure what he might do.  The man is profound.  There were a few false alarms but nothing else.  Getting ready to hit the sack and listen to some Beatles and Guns N' Roses [on my Walkman]."

The god of smoke calls forth the plumes

I chose to redact the name of the classmate who took off during the evening worship service, just out of respect for their privacy.  I do recall there was a spiritual intensity to the evening after the levity of the Russian ballerinas earlier on that night. That intensity would only increase in the next 24 hours.

Only teenagers can turn on a dime from faith to foolishness.  The tensions with the Indians continued, with poor Greg Wedel singled out as their target. Throughout the day they taunted him with threats of shaving his butt.  But none of us were going to allow one of our brothers to be manhandled and we were ready to protect him and his "sacred butt" as we called it.  Dale, especially, was out for blood and you never know, some might have been literally shed the way he was swinging that machete around.

I remember very well lying in the dark of our derelict tent listening to the Beatles and Guns N' Roses on my Walkman. It was one of those mix-tapes we used to make--a copy of the Beatles 20 Greatest Hits that I dubbed from Chris Cotta's cassette with GNR's "Paradise City" dropped in right between "Penny Lane" and "All You Need is Love."  I remember feeling that classic adolescent melancholy as I listened to those songs, warmed by the connections with friends I had throughout the day and chilled by the cold darkness that surrounded me and my companions, physically as well as spiritually.

92: The One We Survived Pt 2: Camp

 

It's pretty clear that my record of Senior Survival was written after the fact. I began my journal account of Senior Survival with a dramatic introduction pictured above.  I would have to have already returned from Senior Survival to begin my account this way. Here's the transcription:

Never had the tortures been greater nor the privation worse than on that event known as Senior Survival.  The only showers to be a had were the rains at night and the frigid lake by day.  Flush toilets were unheard of. Plastic sheets were the only building material available and everything from shacks to mansions were made of it.  And these primitive conditions were made doubly worse  by rainfall at night and bitterly cold temperatures during the day. 

Could an entire senior class survive these squalid conditions for four days?  They could and they did.  In fact, they flourished. In the following pages, this memorable event will be described for all posterity.

Next up, was my first official journal entry of Senior Survival.  The date was Sunday, November 3, 1991:

The beginning of our four day ordeal began with foreboding hints of things to come.  The sky dawned gray and overcast.  The forecast was rain followed by dropping temperatures. But these ominous factors meant nothing to those who were taking us out there.  The possibility of war with Reams group was also strong in our minds as we prepared to go that morning.

I got up this morning about 7:10 or so, took the last shower I was to have for the next three days and got dressed.  J and Rees spent the night of course and we hurriedly loaded up our gear as I had SAT's to take at 8 o' clock.  We arrive at the school minutes before 8 and I cruised into the classroom in jungle boots, camo pants, and an Army cap with a knife at my side.  I was ready to go. . .

Me, looking less than enthused in my Vietnam era military garb, most of which I picked up at an army surplus store.  To the left are Jon Terryn in the red cap and Jason Connell in his famous Colts cap.

After the test Greg and I grabbed some lunch at Taco Bell and then hit the road.  The rest of our class had left around 11 and we were shipped out with the other SAT students later.

The drive over was short, about 45 minutes.  We arrived at camp around 1 or so. 2 o'clock Survival Time." 

I have to chuckle at this image of myself all decked out like some sort of soldier of fortune, arriving to take my SATs. I thought I was so cool!  I had also forgotten that they had us on "Survival Time", an hour a head of the rest of the world.  I guess that gave us more daylight?  I'm not sure what the rationale was.  My journal continues with a description of the trials of setting up camp:

The afternoon was spent setting up camp.  The Turkeys chose an excellent spot, far away and excellent for defense, located on a hill surrounded by palmetto bushes with only two hidden entrances. It turned out that our camp, instead of the Indians', whose location was unknown. Sometimes even to us.

Our only material for making a tent was duct tape, rope, and 3 pieces of 10 by 12 plastic.  Most of the tents turned out all right, with P-Roy's and Jason & Dale's probably being the best.  Rees, mine and J's was very uncool.  It was probably the ugliest tent in camp, probably in all Senior Survival.  It was a lopsided, misshapen thing but it served us decently and at least I didn't get too wet.  

Around four we went down to the Orientation and after that was supper.

Tonight we set up a few booby traps, trip wires, and holes etc, just in case.  The program was interesting.  They had Reams team dress up like Indians and do a little song and dance for us.  It was really funny.  After the meeting, J, Rees, Ty Walker, and some others of us went exploring in the woods. It was pretty cool.  When we got back to camp we chilled by the fire and listened to Eugene tell about being lost and Dale be profound.  All in all a fairly good first day. . .It doesn't appear that the natives are too restless tonight.

A sketch of our campsite layout

The shelter J, Rees, and me built, affectionately known as The Dump. I stayed dry because I was in the middle.

Two members were especially key to Wild Turkey camp life: Eugene Armstead was the chef of our camp. As I recall we had to make all our own food, and Eugene had brought a wok, which he used to make all our meals--everything from broccoli to eggs could be cooked up Gene's magical Wok. We called him the Master of the Wok or the WokMan.

Greg Wedel and Our Master of the Wok, Eugene Armstead

The other young man crucial to the Turkeys was our guru, Dale Robertson. We called him "the god of smoke" because campfire smoke used to follow him wherever he went. I may have been the appointed leader of the team, but Dale was the Turkey's soul.   Dale was a wild man, a crazy city kid from New Jersey that kept us in stitches throughout our time in the woods. He would say the most insane things, but somehow they ended up profound. We all adopted his favorite catchphrases such as "That's uncool bro" and "Oh yes!" and "All living things must burn" and of course the ultimate Turkey dis: "Step off!" Long before he entered into service for our country, Dale had a warriors heart and the spirit of a true iconoclast. Even when we weren't quite sure what he was going on about, we loved Dale.

Dale Robertson, the man who put the "Wild" in the Wild Turkeys. Before he was AIRBORNE, he was the god of smoke, the profound one, OH YES!

Despite the bad weather and the constant threat of Indian attacks, camp life was a highlight of Senior Survival.

92: The One We Survived Pt 1: Team

The Wild Turkeys of the Class of 92: From Left to Right, Back: Mark Mendes, J Carlos, Jon Terryn, Rees Franklin, Greg Wedel, Sean Maycock, Eugene Armstead.  Front: Dale Robertson, Jason Connell

Senior Survival was perhaps the defining experience of my senior year--more than the class trip, more than graduation.  It was the crucible of suffering in which indelible memories were forged for a lifetime. I know for some those were not good memories:  Paul Wood was sick the entire time, and pleaded with his staff sponsor to be allowed to go home.  Permission was denied and he suffered through what he describes as the "worst experience of all my academy days."  Others, like Dottie Sheffield, were able to avoid Paul's fate by not going at all.  She says she was able to get excused from going. But for me, and I'm sure many others, Senior Survival for all it's discomforts was a highlight of the year.  There are moments from those three days of privation that are still as vivid as yesterday, thirty years later.  Over the next three days I will revisit our class's time in the wilderness.  

Overall my experience with the teachers and staff at Forest Lake Academy was positive--and in some cases life-changing. Hopkins. Viar.  Vining. Pomeroy.  Captain.  Uncle Larry.  These names and others were instrumental in shaping my life.  Of course, I had my gripes as all kids do, and not all of them were unfounded.  Sadly, there is a case to be made for the harm done by some of those tasked with molding us and there is room to critique policies and standards at the school that were unhelpful at best and at their worst, were outright wrong.  For the most part, I've chosen not to dwell on those aspects of our experience at FLA, even if it means the accounting of our year is incomplete, and maybe overly rosy.

But I will say this.  I have always had a problem with the teams we were placed in for Senior Survival. I will not speculate here on what the process was, but I will say that I was not impressed with the outcome.  Perhaps, it was not intentional, but I feel that whoever was tasked with setting up these groups sent some very clear messages.  At least that's my take on it.  Maybe I'm the only one who felt this way, but I'd be surprised if I was.  

That is not to say that I didn't like the team I ended up with.  From the moment I received the list of names, I was quite pleased with the guys I'd be surviving with. The Wild Turkeys  felt like a hodgepodge, a collection of misfits that the Powers That Be couldn't figure out what to do with.  Those fellows that couldn't be pigeonholed, the leftovers, if you will were thrown together.  There were smaller pods of friendship within the team, but I hadn't spent much time at all with most of the people in the Turkeys prior to Senior Survival.  All that would change, of course, and I while I drifted away from some of my fellow Turkeys after Survival was over, others would become friends for life.  

I don't remember the names of all the teams. Of course I remember the Indians--they were intended to be the team that everyone remembered, and the Survival event was structured to put them in the spotlight. I remember the Eddy Rebels because they were paired with my team during many of the camp activities, and because some of my close friends were on that team. I remembered the team of girls paired with the Indians, though I'd forgotten until going back through my journal that they named themselves the "Wild Women of the Woods". 

The Wild Women of the Woods: Carissa Berard, Ly Nguyen (team leader), Lori Beall, Kelly Hendershot, Becky Hall, Trina Ondrizek, Lisa Cirigliano, Anita Hodder, April Watson, & Tamara Scroggins. This is the only other team photo  I have besides the pic of my Turkeys and the photo of the Indians from their Russian ballerina performance (See below).  I didn't take this photo. It was featured in the school yearbook.

 I remember the Boyz in the Woods, to which the staff had assigned almost all the black boys in our class.  According to Shimon Taylor, their team built a fantastic mansion that slept twelve out of the supply of black plastic tarp they received, and I do recall hearing about that palace.  There were the Wildcats and the Psychedelics Iguanas which I'd forgotten about until I saw their names on the map of our camp area that I drew in my journal:

I'm sure there were other teams too, but for whatever reason I did not place their campsites on my map. 

My journal from Friday, October 18, 1991 captured the moment when I found out who would be on my team (I believe that each of the teams was led by a class officer, but I can't really be sure. I know the Indians had two officers on their team--Chris Cotta and Mark Reams, while I'm wondering if the Boyz in the Hood had any officers.  At any rate, I can't really say how the Powers selected me as team leader):

"I have been chosen to be a group leader and right now I'm in the process (for Senior Survival) of creating an elite survival team for the big event. . . Right now I've got some good men, and I shall list them off briefly.  I, of course, am the team leader.  My two right-hand men, assistant team leaders are J Carlos and Rees Franklin.  Additional members are Brandon Wiley, Jason Connell, Dale Robertson, Eugene Armstead, Greg Wedel, Jonathan Terryn, Mark Mendes.  We are going to rule Senior Survival."

Despite my assertion that I was "creating" an elite survival team, I am certain I did not choose the members of my team. I think what I meant was that I had plans to shape the team given me into a Survival force to be reckoned with.  Brandon Wiley ended up unable to go on the campout with us. I can't remember what the reason was. But he was not forgotten, and we considered him every bit as much of a Turkey as the rest of us.

  On Saturday, November 2, the team officially anointed by our teachers as the Elite Squad, the Indians, helmed by our class president Mark Reams, headed out to the camp site early, presumably to "set up."  The Indians were the only team that didn't get to pick their own name.  FLA senior tradition called for the team of boys that went out a day early to always be known as the Heckarewe Indians (Enabling them to introduce themselves: "We are the Heckarewe. . .Where the Heck Are We. . . get it?  This name would so not fly in today's cultural climate!).   Steve Jeffers was one of the Indians and his most vivid memory of Senior Survival actually occurred that first night, before the event even officially started.  He remembers that night they went down to the lake to take a bath and the only light was from one of their car's headlights so they could see.  While they were bathing, two "locals" walked up to ask what the f**k was going on. One of them appeared to be armed.  Chuck Townes, the sort of Senior Survival guru (I don't know who he was. He was a legend, but he only appeared each year at Senior Survival. I never saw him anywhere before or after the event), walked out of the water completely naked to talk to them and try to defuse the situation, which I assume he successfully did.

The Indians do their thing. I believe it was the the first two or the last two nights, the Indians came out and did a little performance in drag for our entertainment.  The first night they came out as stereotypical Indians and the second as Russian ballerinas.  This photo features of seven of the ten not-so-little Indians. I believe they are (from Left to Right) Joey Gravell, Rey Descalso, Erik Wyand, Steve Jeffers, Mark Reams, Shane Hamilton, and Billy Chen. Not pictured are Chris Cotta and two other members that I'm not sure of.

Unfortunately, the hostile neighbors were not the only source of the Indians troubles. The Wild Turkeys had immediately embraced our misfit identity and determined to make our mark on the Senior Survival. We knew who was expected to be the team of renown and we were determined to supplant them. We Turkeys could not let special privileges like getting to go out to the camp site early go unchallenged. Four of us along with Carissa Berard and Jeff O'Connor decided that we too would go out a day early and get the lay of of the land.  The result, as recorded in my journal, was war:

"Tonight we went shopping for Senior Survival and started making plans.  Biggest news is that we are at war with the Indians.  The Senior Survival group that is, our group against Mark Reams' [group].  Jeff, J, Rees, Myself, Carissa, and Greg went down to where they are having Senior Survival and Indians, who went out today to set up thought we were trying to raid their camp and thereby declared war on us. Yeeha."

This "war" between the Indians and the Turkeys would continue throughout Senior Survival, but it was mostly empty threats and sneaking out to spy on the opposing camp.  No one came to blows and I can't recall being really angry about it.  I can't speak for the Indian alumni, but I think for us Turkeys it was our way of sending a message--perhaps back to our teachers--that we weren't accepting our "place" in the order of things. While I have nothing but respect for my classmates who were on the Indian team, I am kind of proud of that.