by Alex R. Weddon, editor/publisher
The lake on our farm had a shifting muck bottom that swallowed objects. Eyeglasses, bottles of pop, a Browning shotgun and at least one switchblade lie in the murky deep. And broken cement blocks, once used as support of an oak slab that made a diving board.
When the two inch thick plank split, the blocks were tossed forward into the lake. Their sharp edges patiently lying in wait eight feet below the peaceful surface. A foot was gashed open on one during a hot, sultry Fourth of July in the early 1970s. Two friends were with me on the dock in mid afternoon. We had shot our share of minnows with our BB guns, touched off various packs of firecrackers, and floated big explosives on a pie tin, covered in popcorn and pushed away from our drifting boat. The noise and blizzard of flaming kernels brought lots of laughs. Then swimming to cool off. Jeff, as near a native as any of us, jack-knifed in and when he surfaced, announced he had hit something with his toes. Maybe a monster sturgeon or treasure chest. He dove for a closer inspection, surfaced and made the dock. Read More
Davy Rothbart spent many happy summers living in a rustic cabin on a lake near Chelsea in the 1980s and 90s. Now Rothbart, a successful writer and magazine publisher, is sharing the fun with a cross country trek for less fortunate kids.
Rothbart, who turned 40 this year, and James Molenda are the editors of FOUND Magazine, and each summer – with the generous help of friends- they put together a camping trip for Read More