It has been over 3 years since I last stood in Starlight, PA, since I last heard the call to lineup, since I last smelled the Rec Hall, since I last tasted the chocolate chip pancakes, since I last felt the grass at kiddy campus, since I last saw a bim bam by the lake. And yet, my “camp senses” are as strong as ever.

Just a few days ago, I smelled something familiar. It was the kind of subtle smell that most would sniff without giving it a second thought. But I couldn’t; I recognized this smell. Without much thought, I knew what it was: banquet dinner, with those fancy mashed potatoes. Instantly, I was taken back to the last week of camp, when everyone on campus is squeezed into the mess hall dressed to the nines to enjoy a special meal to end the summer. I remembered banquets past and far past, what I was wearing, who I sat next to, who spoke and who had a star dedicated. I remembered the way I felt about the summer ending soon. And then, as quickly as it had come, the smell and the memory were gone.

In the same way that we never forget the taste of our grandmother’s matzoh balls, we never shake the “senses” that surround us each and every day at camp. These days, when I build a campfire, I am reminded of the way we built it at Rope Burn. When I hear a PA announcement, I am reminded of my days working the HC. After so many years at my second home, all it takes is the slightest nudge of the senses to take me back. In a way, I never left.

Marc Hassan, guest blogger