Bix Hopewell writes:

Hi, this is Bix Hopewell, counselor from 1977-1980 and former camper. I was introduced to Camp Hazen in the late ‘60s by the legendary Tom Wyatt who was my fifth grade teacher in Guilford, Connecticut. “Mr. Wyatt” took us on a class trip to the idyllic Camp Hazen and at the end of the thrilling excursion I was hooked. I recall running and playing along the shore of Mosakwa Village in what I believe was a treasure hunt. It was a fantastic experience and in such a short window of time it stayed with me. The next year I returned as a camper for three summers, the latter two being in the Wilderness Program up in Maine. My fondest memory from the first summer at Camp Hazen was the Nature program run by Ralph Altiser (sp?) in the ground floor of Stanley Lodge, and my first encounter with a beautiful tiger salamander that was caught in the woods and dwelled in an aquarium. The one-of-a-kind Maine Wilderness Program was a huge, lasting influence on me and filled with amazing adventures from Moosehead Lake to the Appalachian Trail/AT. We hiked the Presidential Mountain range in New Hampshire including Mount Washington with the leadership of another legend, Bob Parks (Park?). I also hiked Mount Katahdin in Maine, twice. Along with the astonishing vistas, and incredible experiences, the counselors also made an impact on this young lad. Our base camp was owned by the Scott paper company in the middle of the thick woods where we would see bears and moose and pick heavy berries on our way to the stream with the rapids. There was Dave with the wild red hair and beard who could hurl a football underhanded like nothing you’ve ever seen. A stand out counselor on the AT hikes, but I can’t remember his name, brought along his guitar in the guitar case and entertained us each night around the campfire with singing and guitar playing. I’ll never forget that visual of him hiking the AT in pouring rain with the guitar case strapped to his backpack. And then there was Ron Pfeiffer. You remember Ron. He was in another session and didn’t pack a guitar; instead he packed his fishing pole. I think it was a fly rod. He tried his luck at each overnight camp site and then one day he caught a few rainbow trout. He was so excited and cooked them over the fire and without hesitation proudly shared his prize with us, and I still remember that delicious bite. Nothing in the world quite like fresh trout straight from the stream, into the pan, and then into the mouth. Thank you, Ron! It wasn’t just the yummy trout that I recall. It was the genuine generosity of Ron to happily share. I never forgot that (and am reminded of it each time I enjoy another trout meal) and I believe it sums up the far-reaching spirit, and goodness, of Camp Hazen. And it’s evidence of the major importance of the staff, particularly the counselors, and my counselors positively impacted me enough to want to return years later as a counselor, which many of us did and still do. My fondest memories of being a counselor - because, really, we’re there for the kids and only for the kids to make sure they have fun safely, and hopefully grow a little more, learn something or some things new, and discover themselves a little deeper, as well - were with the underprivileged campers from the inner city, for which there’s the annual drive to Send A Kid To Camp, and the special session for diabetic campers. I could see, hear, and feel their glee and gratitude for being in easily one of the most wonderful and magical places in Connecticut, if not all New England. And I would come away learning something new from them. Here’s to another 100 years of our dear old Camp Hazen and the thousands and thousands of lives it touched and still touches!

Send us more! You can record a video or audio story, or write a text, by responding to the video prompt. Or you can just email us your Hazen story at HazenHistory1920@gmail.com.

Tell us who you are, when you were at Hazen, what jobs you had…and anything else you want to say. It’s great to hear how experiences from Hazen have stuck with you in your later life (whether that’s decades later, or months later!).