tarigo


TRIVIA & NOSTALGIA
ABOUT CAMP TA-RI-GO

These are memories of the former Camp TA-RI-GO in Fleischmanns, New York. If you want to add to these please feel free to e-mail me. I set up a "Guestbook" so you can post your comments there too. I have placed some excerpts at the bottom of this page, and have incorporated many comments into the rest of the text.

brochure
This is from one of the brochures that Michael Lewis (Pacy Salzman's grandson) still has.


  • CAMP COLORS:Blue and Gray
  • NAME OF ROAD:Little Red Kill Road
  • YEARS OF CAMP:Camp TARIGO started in 1937 and ended in 1976. According to Mark Pomerantz:The camp closed in 1977 because BORIS, the new owner from Venezuela, was shot and I believe all the campers signed up attended Camp Trupin instead.
  • EARLY HISTORY OF CAMP: From Maddy Sidelnik '60 - '63
    The Salzmans and Lewises certainly played a big part in Ta-ri-go's legacy, but that's not the whole story.

    My uncle by marriage, Lou Wilder, transformed his father's hotel, "The New Orchard", into Camp Ta-ri-go in the early 1930's. He was already married to my father's sister, Belle Sidelnik. They had two sons, Malcolm and Ronnie. Another Aunt & Uncle of mine actually met at "The New Orchard" in the 30's and were married for over 50 years. The Main House was the hotel - everything else was built by Lou to create a Camp.

    Uncle Lou grew up in Fleischmanns and went to school with Gertude Berg (TV's Mollie Goldberg), who is buried there. Uncle Lou died in the early 70's. Aunt Belle, at almost 93, lives near her son Mal in Lynchburg, Va. My cousin Ron died a few years ago.

    Aunt Belle and Uncle Lou brought Pacy in as a partner as Lou was a hotel man (grounds and food were his business). Pacy knew how to recruit kids and run a camp. On visiting days, in the 50's and 60's at least, parents would come up, kiss their kids hello, and say, "What's Lou serving for lunch?" We even believed our grass was softer than that at Camp Oswego. Belle and Lou went up to Camp every April to get it ready, and returned to Englewood, NJ in October -- and waited for April. Camp Ta-Ri-Go was their life.

    As my Aunt and Uncle got older, they sold the Camp in 1965. I'm not sure if that was directly to Jack Pinsky, or if there was an in-between owner.[Carol and Tommy Thompson owned the camp in the middle for a year or two.] My Aunt still gets the Catskill Mountain News, and keeps up with the happenings in Fleischmanns. When I learned of this site, last week, I immediately told her granddaughters, who have now regaled her with lots of printed off pages.

    While Aunt Belle was always the 'lady in the office' (although pictured in EVERY GROUP PHOTO), people did not realize how much involvement she had with the day to day activities and families, and how much pride she still has in knowing that she and Lou created a wonderful place for many generations of children. The web site you so thoughtfully created, which is now bringing people back together, is a testament to this.

  • CAMP ALMA MATER:Sung to Beautiful Dreamer..."Night time is falling, shadows descend, Beautiful thoughts in our hearts do blend. Sounds of the crude world, heard through the day, Lulled by the moonlight have all passed away.
    Dear Camp Tarigo , to thee we sing, List while we woo thee, with soft melody. Here are the joys of life's busy throngs (?), Days filled with friendship, so strong and so true, Dear Camp Tarigo, dear gray and blue."
  • NAMES OF BOYS' BUNKS:
    Apache, Blackfoot, Cayuga, Crow, Eagle, Fox, Iroquis, Mohawk, Mohican, Navajo, Osage, Pawnee, Seminole, Seneca, Shawnee, Ute,{Wyandote/Yosemite- according to Bob Cohen there used to be another bunk next to the Senior Lodge) Senior Lodge.
  • NAMES OF GIRLS' BUNKS:
    Barnard, Welsey, Bryn Mawr, Skidmore, Vassar, Radcliff, Main Lodge

  • NAMES OF GROUPS:
    BOYS:Froshman, Sophmores, Pioneers, Kadets, Juniors, Seniors
    GIRLS:Freshman Girls, Debs, Juniors, Seniors, CIT - Liaisons

  • Totem Pole:
    Bernie Weiser made the Totem Pole on which the All Around Campers' Names Were Posted.
    CAMPERS (COUNSELORS) WHO MARRIED CAMPERS:
    The following campers married other TA-RI-GOites. (some are divorced):
    • Susan Green and Alan Hurwitz
    • Michael Bitterman and Ellen Schwarz
    • Liz Ellman and Neil Karmen
    • Mark Pomerantz and Cathy Herring
    • Stan Wilk and Rhona Wenger
    • Michael Herz and Maris Touchin
    • Janie Halpern and Steve Eisenstat
    • Marilyn Schwartz and Paul Schlansky married in 1968.
      MEMORIAL LIST TO CAMPERS WHO HAVE DIED:
    • David Wadro
    • Mel Schwartz
    • Pacy Salzman
    • Uncle Lou Wilder
    • Howie Rabinowitz
    • Rusty Friedman
    • Robert Singer
    • Artie Ringler
    • "Nachum" Norman Goldberg
    • Maralyn Fairberg (56-64)
    • Rhona Wenger (Wilk)
    • Toby Wolper (Dachs) 68-70
    • Karen Goffner
    • Marc Bitzick
    • Steve Geffen
    • Bruce Meyer
    • Robert "Bobby" Fischer
    • Dr. Richard Sarkin
    • David Lewis (Mina's husband)
    • Aunt Belle Wilder
    • Barry Halper
    • Larry Krause
    • Don Fine
    • Mina Lewis
    • Shelley Davis, Esq.

    Barry Halper passed away in 2005. If you google his name, you'll find that at one time he owned the world's largest collection of baseball memorabilia. He also owned one per cent of the NY Yankees and once said that there's nothing more limiting than being a limited partner of George Steinbrenner. Barry was already a counselor by my time but I remember him as being one of the friendliest people. William Cooper.

    On March 15, 2010, during that terrible storm, a tree fell down and killed Larry Krause (50) while he was leaving his synagogue in Teaneck. Larry was a former TARIGOite. Our sympathies to his family and friends. He was also an attorney who worked in Manhattan. He had a wife and six children.

  • MOOSE HEAD
    Some days I still can see this large brown moose head sticking out of a wooden building. Unless I am crazy, I think it is the image of the moose head that used to hang in the Rec Hall or Social Hall.

    LIST OF GAY/LESBIAN CAMPERS: I know of at least one…. Me. If there were any others, please feel free to email me. I am relieved to say that others have read this paragraph and emailed me. So I guess I wasn't the only gay person in camp... it just felt like it.

  • FRIDAY NIGHT SHABBAT SERVICES
    Being a "Jewish-style" camp, we had our own Rabbi and Friday Night Shabbat services. They were mandatory. They must have had a real big impact on the area. If you now go to Fleischmanns during the summer, the entire town is full of Chasidic Jews. I wonder if it started with our services?

  • The Meaning of "OD":But in the sixties, when a counselor had to watch the campers at night, the counselor was known to have OD (on duty). While on OD, for special occasions, they would bring us back cold pizza and wake us up for a party. Now when someone OD's its just not the same.

  • THE BURNING OF THE "T":Late on the last night of camp, most of us would go down to the lake and watch the burning of the T. Along with the watching we would sign some songs and cry. My brother never experienced the event and says I'm nuts, but I think that's because he was always saying goodbye to his girlfriends. But I remember those "T"'s because it somewhat reminded me of burning crosses. Gary Povill remembers the "T" being burned on the boy's campus near the Arts & Crafts Building. Maybe that was in earlier years before the insurance company found out and made them move it to the island in the lake.

  • INTERCAMP GAMES:Some of the camps that we played were: Timberlake, Oquago, Alamar, Tunis Lake, Bryden Lake, .... Being on the "C" time, I didn't go to all of them. Before leaving on a foreign expedition away from the "Hills of Health" Pacy would always wish us well at breakfast and tell us to "Bring Home the Corned Beef".

  • HOW TO MAKE A BED:There were four main ingredients, two sheets and two blankets. You took your top sheet from last week, and now made it your bottom sheet. You gave it hospital corners and tucked it in. Then you took your new top sheet and one blanket and made more hospital corners and tucked it in. Then you folded your second blanket, which was called a jelly roll at the end of the bed. Actually, one would have thought that you rolled the jelly roll, but no, you only folded it... it was more like a puff pastry.
  • INDIAN VILLAGE AND "BOY SCOUT" KIND OF GROUP:I can't remember the name. But in conjuction with trips to the Indian Village, Pacy had a sort of "boy scout" group in which we wore orange sashes with badges on it. You would get a "merit" badge if you did something "scouty" like walk to the flagpole from the Indian Village in the dark. Here is one of the badges (sent in by Michael Yoss). Richard Sarkin writes:
    The name of the Tarigo boy scout like thing was the Woodcraft League. Campers earned "coos" for doing stuff in four different categories. The "coos" looked liked Indian feathers and were sewed onto an orange sash. A very few campers were able to earn 12 "coos" in each of the four categories for a total of 48 "coos." These campers were awarded a Woodcraft League jacket (I think it was red).


  • HOW I LEARNED THE FACTS OF LIFE AT TARIGO:At the age of nine, a few of my fellow campers and I went into the (KYBO) bathroom and asked each other if we knew the facts of life. Some of the responses would make Bill Clinton's answers seem reasonable. OK, we were close but not on target. But that year Art Buchwald's sister was one of the nurses at the infirmary. Every day I'd hike up there to get on the NO-SWIM list, or even better the NO-ACTIVITY list. After a while it was hard to think up new ailments. But then a girl just walked in and said to the nurse, "Its my time of the month", and she got on the NO-SWIM list. WOW! I figured everyone gets one day off (like your birthday) each month and I haven't used mine up yet. So I walked up to the nurse and told her that it was my time of the month, so put me on the list. After a good laugh, she took me in the other room and told me about periods. By the end of the summer I was all up-to-date on the facts of life. Who knew that my parents paid $750 for such advanced knowledge?

  • TRIPS TO TOWN

    Every Wednesday night the older campers would go down the road to see a movie in the Onteora Theater and then go to Gale's for candy. For a while, you had to have a date or you couldn't go. The younger campers with no dates had to stay in the "canteen" under the Main Building. I know one of the reasons that I always had a date was to be able to go to movies, and get away from camp. The walk down the hill was sort of scary and exciting and tiring, but I still remember the winds and turns in my mind today.
    Comments from the son of the Owner of the Onteora Movie Theater:
    My name is Steve Davis and Iım writing you from Atlanta, GA.
    While I was not a camper at Ta-Ri-Go, I was in Fleischmanns starting in 1950 when my parents bought the theater and renamed it Onteora. This was the third theater they owned and operated in the area, the others being in Phoenicia and Woodstock.

    I am also friendly with Michael Yoss, a former camper, and his parents here in Atlanta, and may times over the years Michael and I have spoken about Fleischmanns and Ta-Ri-Go.

    As I said, I was never a camper, however to add to your site information about the theater, it was often on rainy days when the camp would call and ask permission to bring a hundred or so campers to the afternoon show at 2:30PM. When these calls came in, we would rope off a portion of the left side of the theater, usually the rear section, though sometimes the front. Remember that there was that extra wide isle that went across from exit door to exit door.

    When the campers arrived, we would do a head count as they entered on the left side of the lobby through the exit doors and were taken to their seats. As I seem to recall the counselors would then have the orders for popcorn, drinks and candy, all of which was paid for in bulk.

    From my perspective I had to work doubly hard to get the extra popcorn made and candy stocked, since the counter help didnıt come in earlier, and then there was the cleaning up afterwards. Everything had to be put in barrels and stored since it was raining and we couldnıt take it outside to burn behind the building.

    As for Gales, the husband's name was Max, and his wife was Shirley. I use to spend some mid-days up there reading comic books and working on a chocolate malted and egg salad sandwich at the counter. Shirley had mixed emotions about me, as I wasnıt a native of Fleischmanns, but part of the summer influx to be treated differently. The locals kids could read the comics, while the tourists could only buy them. But then my parents owned the theater, which was a major player in the village for business, taxes. etc., so guess letting me read comics was the lessor of two evils.

    Your photo of the theater is different than it was when my folks owned the building. The vertical sign saying ³theater² said Onteora and ³pizza² was a drug store operated by a Mr. Kaplan. In the early 50's the drug store had a fountain and a single booth (now in my home in Atlanta), but no magazines or grill. Guess this added to Shirley Gale's being upset as we were the competition as well. Anyway, there was a bench out front where we use to sit after the last show and listen to the music and partying from the BelAire restaurant across the street. Where the post office is now, was a barber shop and the center smaller store was everything, from a swap shop to a storage facility.

    You know, Iım sure, that the make up of the summer tourist was predominantly survivors from WWII. I personally have witnessed surprise reunions of people finding one another while walking in the village and can remember two sisters finding each other to be alive while waiting to enter the theater. Each had thought the other was lost in the holocaust.

    For films, the theater was on a release schedule with NYC for summer releases and also equipment in the then developing industry. It was one the 1st theater outside of NYC to be equipped with Stereo and among the first to have CinemaScope proportioned screen and lens added. The theater was also equipped to show 3D.

    The building was build in the Œ20, and my Mother as a single girl from NYC would sit on the floor in the isles to see a live show and movie. At the time it seated 1066 people. When my parents bought it, they removed the original seats and put in new larger ones creating the wide isle, mentioned previously, and reduced the seating capacity to 660.

    Dad rented the barber shop location to the post office after the building they were in burned. He and Mom sold the property, sometime in the 70ıs.

    When they owned the theater it operated only once during the winter months when we first bought it. Thereafter we would open for summer business on Memorial Day weekend and close just before Rosh Hashanah. We lived upstairs in an apartment over the now post office and I studied there for my Bar Mitzvah. Our rabbi came from Kingston to give me lessons, and since the house was Kosher he'd eat lunch and then returned to Kingston in the afternoon.

    The last time I was in Fleischmanns was about 1978. Needless to say, in returning, it was quite different than what my minds eye recalled as child.

    Know that this digresses some from the focus of the camp, but though you might be interested in a little local color, if for nothing else than your own personal knowledge.



  • THE STORY OF NEG NORD NUD: Back in the early 1960's, a group of seniors started a fraternal group called Neg Nord Nud. I assume that it was a dig on someone, but I was too young to know the exact facts. I think people like Freddy Singer or Nardie Levine would know. Anyway, years later the group still existed, when I became a senior. Since I would rather dig holes and strip trees, I made the flagpole for Neg Nord Nud one summer instead of playing sports. My parents should only have known that they were paying $700 a summer for me to build a flagpole. When it was done, I needed another excuse to skip sports, so I told my counselors that I had to make a sun dial, and be at the flagpole every hour to place a stone. That took another week (due to rain and clouds). But by the end of the summer, a flagpole stood next to the senior lounge with a flag flying that had the Neg Nord Nud logo. Now I hear from Jack Pinsky, that at his new camp, they kept the group going, and that there is a Neg Nord Nud group to this day.





    Here is a comment from Gary Povill on Neg Nort Nud...
    I couldn't beleive that Neg Nort Nud is still alive and well.To the best of my knowledge,I started Neg Nort Nud in 1963.Myself,Nardi Levine,Andy Mittelman,Ed Bluestone,Howie Schwartz,and others(I think Stu Saccoman).We were the upper Seniors in the Lodge and many of the Lower Seniors liked to hang out in our section of the Lodge.We instituted a fee for a "pass" to enter our section.The passes were numbered.I believe your brother Bobby was indeed the very first to get a pass and was given the number neg(as in negative)1.Many others followed and when we no longer wanted to continue with negatives,we started the Norts(a misspelling for naught).After a good number of norts,we decided on Nuds(just a good alliteration).We accumulated a pretty good treasury,(including making a few bucks on sporting event pools),and used the money at the end of camp to have our own Neg Nort Nud banquet after the camp dinner banquet.We also had our own songs and banners and thereby it evolved into a fraternity at camp.It's just astounding to hear that this still exists today.
    Click Here to go to the story
    Rick Landman told at the 2005 Reunion
    about his time at Camp Tarigo


  • A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A TYPICAL TA-RI-GO CAMPER...
  • O.K., maybe not so typical. It started out as my typical day, but I am incorporating comments from others who remember more...
    I would wake up to the sound of bugle calls from a scratchy record. Actually, you would wait up first from the scratching and then you would finally hear... Da Dum da da da... Then jump out of a nice warm bed, into the cold and damp concrete floor of the "Kybo" or bathroom. Somehow it always smelled of wet mason board. The announcement over the loudspeaker would tell us the DRESS OF THE DAY WILL BE-SHOES, SOCKS, CAMP SHORTS, T-SHIRT AND CAP. We would rush to get dressed and run over the dew dampened grass to encircle the flag pole in the middle of campus for the official flag raising of the day. "Uncle Mike" (or "Uncle Jack") would be standing there waiting for the last bunk to be all accounted for. Uncle Mike would say, "Good Morning Everybody!" and we had to scream back "Good Morning Uncle Mike". If we didn't say it loud enough he repeated "GOOD MORNING EVERYBODY!" and we had to SCREAM back "GOOD MORNING UNCLE MIKE" Of course we were still half asleep. Then we were told our schedules for the day and then to another sound of the scratchy record we would march down the hill past the girl's camp to the mess hall. Saying grace, "Blessed Art Thou King of the Universe Who Bringest Forth Bread From the Earth" or Rub a dub, dub, Thanks for the Grub…Yeah G-d!" I think it was one of those. Then we would eat the cereal or eggs and have some hot cocoa. Then with full tummies we would have to march back up that hill again; now for housecleaning. Looking at the chart one could tell if they would have to sweep or move beds, or clean the bathroom, etc. I was very good at sweeping. Except that I would try to get on the "No Swim List" or "No Activity List" as much as possible, so you could probably find me walking up that stone pathway past the tennis courts to get to the infirmary. It was my favorite place. If I could think of a good enough excuse I would be saved from having to go into that freezing lake (especially in late August). Then off to first activity. If it was a sport thing, I knew that I wouldn't be picked, or could figure out some way to avoid playing. I must admit most of the other kids looked forward to playing ball, etc., but I'd rather read comic books, go to arts and crafts, or run away to the Indian Village. Then came lunch and the routine continued. After lunch we were supposed to rest in our beds and read. I did this part of the day pretty well. I think we also got our candy rations around that time of the day. Otherwise, we would have to rely on our parents' care packages from Visiting Day. Then off to more activities and the swimming session. Since I didn't swim that well, I enjoyed my "No Swim Pass" all the better. After another walk up the hill we had "Hobby Hour". For the life of me I couldn't understand why people wanted to play more sports, but they did. So they had "Hot Pie- Watermelon Leagues" for people who wanted more baseball in their day. Then another rush to encircle that flag pole as the flag was officially brought down. The heroes of the day would be honored by be chosen to lower the flag. I think I did it once in 8 years. Oh well. I did make the nicest bed. Off to dinner and another walk down that hill. Another round of prayers and food and then back up the hill as the sun was setting. This was my favorite time of the day. Little did I know that I was to become a "night person". I loved evening activities such as movies, (Did anyone say Flower Drum Song?), games, plays, etc. Or a trip to the canteen for dancing and candy. Once a week, down the real long hill to town for movies at the Onteora Movie Theater. Then back up the hill again, and some time to get ready to go to sleep. If there were no planned "evening raids" to the girls' bunks, that meant a good seven to eight hours of sleep until that bugle sounded again.


  • INVOICE
    This is a copy of an original invoice. What is interesting to note, is that a car cost around $1,500 in those days.

  • NOSTALGIA
    These are excerpts from the Guestbook...
    Janis Herskovitz (Schonholz)
    After signing the guest book I finally got to read the other comments. Carolyn (Cash) Cohen asked about the milk bar. It was a late morning on Fridays after the Thursday night movie in the rec hall. We were served hot chocolate, hard boiled eggs and buttered rolls. I reminisce all the time. The best summers. I only wish my kids could have had the same experience. My family thinks I'm crazy when I start to talk about my summers at Ta-Ri-Go. I'm glad to see that I am not the only one.

    Harry R:
    Night after night I walk down the path between Iroquois-Mohawk and Mohigan-Navajo. I see the rabbits of the Nature Hut, the fires of Wakanda, the sleepovers of the Indian Village, my god how I miss you all. I was in shock to learn Tarigo was torn down; or months I grieved like it was Uncle Pacyıs accident again; dear Gladys, Teddy, Minna, Dave, Robert, Michael. Scratchy bugle sounds were stuck in my dreams: the bulldozers were downing Radcliffe and Bryn Mawr as we ran down the rain-beaten path to the ain House for one of the wilder of Lou and Bellıs breakfasts. Our days, not just the special days of other kidsı childhoods, but OUR Tarigo days. Yeah, our Tarigo. You read about absolute love, but at Tarigo, we had it, we knew we had it, and we went back for more. To Pacy, campers could do nothing wrong, and wha we did wrong, he forgave us with white-haired endearment; the perfect grandpa. As you remember, too, if you were a counselor not loving a camper, Chief White Eagle roared; justifiably so. And The General, Mike Buckley, a schedule to keep, children to ducate. I donıt think any of us knew how to handle Pacyıs accident. We were too young. Tarigo was too good. I continue to search for Tarigoıs in my life, in work, in friends, in loves. I once had a wonderful dog. His name was Tarigo, too. Our special Tarigo feelings go well beyond age, sentimentality and prevailing Jewish sappiness. We had something unique in the human experience. We knew it then. We know it now.

    From Michael Yoss:
    You truly are amazing!!! I have just visited the site and am in awe, not to mention anything about tears and melancholy. that site brings back so many memories and desire to go back in time. I remember the big tree in front of the junior lodge; playing cork ball against the senior lodge, going to the infirmary for sugar pills (I loved the nurses), being carried up the hill fromthe mess hall in 57-58 because I was so little and so cute. I remember walking down the path next to the senior lodge to go to the lake, the moose head was in the social hall. I remember just rolling down the cuffs on my shorts from year to year because I never grew too much ( I think my parents bought me shorts twice during my years at camp). I had forgotten about hospital corners and jelleyrolls. The parents of my friend here in Atlanta owned the Oneonta theatre. I remember the Three Penny Opera that I saw there and Mack the Knife. I think I still know how to make lanyards. Damn, they were great times. Would give anything to do them again. I am honored (truly) to be the impetus for the web site.

    From Randy (Harry) R
    Night after night I walk down the path between Iroquois-Mohawk and Mohigan-Navajo. I see the rabbits of the Nature Hut, the fires of Wakanda, the sleepovers of the Indian Village, my god how I miss you all. I was in shock to learn Tarigo was torn down; for months I grieved like it was Uncle Pacy's accident again; dear Gladys, Teddy, Minna, Dave, Robert, Michael. Scratchy bugle sounds were stuck in my dreams: the bulldozers were downing Radcliffe and Bryn Mawr as we ran down the rain-beaten path to the Main House for one of the Wilder of Lou and Bell's breakfasts. Our days, not just the special days of other kids' childhoods, but OUR Tarigo days. Yeah, our Tarigo. You read about absolute love, but at Tarigo, we had it, we knew we had it, and we went back for more. To Pacy, campers could do nothing wrong, and what we did wrong, he forgave us with white-haired endearment; the perfect grandpa. As you remember, too, if you were a counselor not loving a camper, Chief White Eagle roared; justifiably so. And The General, Mike Buckley, a schedule to keep, children to educate. I don't think any of us knew how to handle Pacy's accident. We were too young. Tarigo was too good. I continue to search for Tarigo's in my life, in work, in friends, in loves. I once had a wonderful dog. His name was Tarigo, too. Our special Tarigo feelings go well beyond age, sentimentality and prevailing Jewish sappiness. We had something unique in the human experience. We knew it then. We know it now.

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