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.