Morning Meditation

Bill Pigott
August 30th, 2009

Good morning.

My name is Bill Pigott. I was a camper at Ahmek from 1955 through 1957. Then, I was on staff from 1958 through 1963.

So, I had the privilege of meeting the Chief - Taylor Statten the first - and seeing him in action.

Through that contact, I developed an affection for the Chief and a sense of his aspirations for the Camps. That's why I write him from time to time and occasionally share those letters by way of a morning mediation - like today.

With that introduction, I will read you a letter that I wrote to the Chief just this week.

Letter to the Chief

Dear Chief:

I haven't written to you since 2005. That was a reunion year when the 85th anniversary of the Camps' founding was celebrated. But, you know all that because I sent you a letter on that occasion. And, you answered it which was kind of surprising.

I have had two Camp related experiences since 2005 which I thought you might like to hear about.

Growing up, I can remember my father talking about things that happened twenty, thirty even forty years ago, and thinking how ancient he must be to have a bank of memories that deep. Not as ancient as my grandfather who spoke in terms of fifty and sixty years gone by. But, pretty ancient. Suddenly, it has dawned on me that I have memories going back more than 50 years which I guess means that ancientness is right around the corner if it isn't upon me already.

I had a fifty year experience right here two years ago. It was connected to the Stilson canoe race. You were gone by the time this happened but two campers won the Stilson in 1957. It had never happened before and it hasn't happened since. The two campers were Roger St. Germain and me. Sure, it was a bit of a fluke. Fluke or not, we didn't care.

Well, in early 2007, Roger found me through the Camp office. He reminded me that it was fifty years since we had won the Stilson together. He thought it would be cool if we both returned to Camp to watch the race in late August that year. Cool indeed! I hadn't seen Roger since 1958. Yup, 49 years.

Stilson day in 2007 was a vintage Algonquin Park day - 25 degrees and light winds.

Driving down the Camp road that morning, I was followed by an older looking gent in a van with Quebec plates. I thought he might be going to Arowhon. Then, when I turned into the Camp drive, the van followed me. That older gent was Roger. Turns out he had been following an older gent himself, wondering if that guy was going to Arowhon. Funny how you think that everyone else is a codger except - yourself.

We had a splendid day watching twenty plus boats vie for the Stilson wrench. Before the race, you could feel the tension and the excitement among the competitors. At the start, there was a wild melee getting away from the dock and Roger and I learned something instantly - among the things that have changed since we raced is the way that Ahmek canoeists paddle. Stoqua and Perry - the proponents of the old “Ahmek stroke” - would not be pleased.

After the race, Roger and I were invited to lunch by Dr. Tay and Janet and our presence was announced in the dining hall. We were given a rousing “How! How!” of the type afforded to elder statesmen. The elder statesmen part wasn't so cool but the rest of it was.

We had a chance to talk to the Stilson competitors and we learned something there too. Passion for the Stilson has not abated and the young men who pursue it today reminded us of how stoked we were when we raced. Roger and I spent the day catching up on two generations of time. We talked about our families, our life's journey, our wins and losses and how wonderful it was to spend some time at Camp - a place we both loved. Sadly, the day ended and we left this place again as we had so many years before.

Now Chief, there is one other event I want to tell you about - in the old friend reunion department. Maybe you have seen a piece that I wrote called “Finding Ellis” - it's on the website. I am sure you remember Terry Ellis because he did something quite extraordinary in 1954 and you congratulated him for it. At the ripe old age of 11, Ellis - which is what I call him - won the Wilson. His name is on a plaque on one of the western columns and you'll find that he repeated that accomplishment in 1957. Over the years, Ellis and I became close friends, being cabin mates and later Stilson partners. Then - unfortunately - our Camp careers ended.

I lost track of Ellis after Camp and had pretty much given up on ever seeing him again. Quite mysteriously, he appeared on my e-mail in the mid 90s confirming a rumour that I had heard - that he was living in Hawaii. I always knew Ellis wasn't stupid - he always told me that. But, I never thought he would be smart enough to move to a place where you wear shorts and flip flops twelve months of the year. E-mail meant we stayed in touch from time to time. We spoke of meeting again but that seemed unlikely. Unlikely until coincidence intervened.

What brought us together was Ellis' 65th birthday. For some reason, he decided to invite me to his birthday party. The party, he said, would be at his home on the slopes of West Maui Mountain. After all, what's 5,000 miles between friends?

Coincidentally, Ellis' invitation arrived shortly after our family had planned a trip to Maui and on the day of Ellis' birthday, we would be within twenty miles of the party.

Well, it turns out that Ellis lives off the grid. The water running off West Maui Mountain flows through his property and turns a small turbine which generates enough power for Ellis to run his appliances and power tools. He makes furniture and does odd jobs. In a tropical rain forest, Ellis is close to living off the land - in a cabin half the size of the Sailors' Clubhouse.

I wondered if Ellis would be the same after forty-six years. Well, he was and he wasn't. The same wisecracking, smarty pants intelligence was still in evidence. So, Chief, is his humanity. He has lived a hard life. And, along the way he has made it his mission to care for people in trouble. Maybe he's a dropout and maybe he isn't. Whatever Ellis is Chief, you should be proud to have him as an alumnus. After the party, we made our goodbyes and committed that we would meet again.

So, Chief, if you had told me in 1956 that I would some day be talking of friends made so long in the past I would have smiled respectfully but thought to myself, “what does he know?”. Well, I think you understood the things that really matter. You knew that life is a journey which is long if we are lucky. And, that journey challenges and enriches the traveller immensely. And, it makes him or her appreciate the places and people who were there when the trip started. And, who helped along the way.

So, Chief, I guess I should thank you for many memories and for people like Ellis and St. Germain who gave life to this Camp and who never really left - at least not in spirit. Some fires don't go out.

I imagine you have your own thoughts on journeys. So, if the mood strikes, drop me a note. I'll share it with all fellow Camp travellers.

Yours Ahmekly,
Bill Pigott.