We met during staff week in 1992. We dated the entire summer and broke up when we went back to school.
Down by the agam? At a staff Peulah? In a quiet pagoda? Nope.
Hi, my name is Mitch Paschen and I’m autistic. No, I don’t stare at the wall for hours without saying anything, but I do have most of the U.S. Atlas memorized.
In the early spring of 1992, my best friend Robbie and I were told by our parents that for some reason, they had decided to give us what they called a “gift.” Of course, Robbie and I spent the next few weeks trying to figure out why we were being punished.
New campers know that Shabbat is part of Jewish life at camp. But they don’t yet know when Shabbat begins. Perhaps it begins Friday afternoon in the kikar, camp’s “town square,” when speakers start blasting music and campers and staff of all ages converge to dance to Israeli pop.
In the summer of 1996, our aidah celebrated its 25th Nivonim reunion. It was a Shabbat of wonder and grace, reminding us all of the power and importance which Ramah played in shaping our lives. I am grateful for the many friendships which continue up to ths day that are a result of my Ramah […]
I’ve never quite been able to explain to non-Ramahniks why I wanted to return endlessly to a camp where I had to daven, go to Hebrew classes and sleep with more clothes on than most people wear to ski. I still miss it.