Tribute to My 83′ Ozrim
September 30, 2010 by Herzl Camp Admin, under Letters from Alumni.
By Missy Korenblat-Hanin
The 1983 Ozrim Reunion
This past February, I received a message from one of my 1983 Ozrim. This was exciting, curious and surprising – especially after 27 years. Because Ricky Bloomfield (Papa Ozo ’83) and I are the only two from this group NOT on Facebook, Susie Fellman Witkowski worked hard to find our email addresses, track us down and invite us to a reunion for the entire group.
Ricky and I were totally in shock and couldn’t fathom how this was going to work or if it would really happen. A short 5 months later, this dream became a reality and our fabulously, fun-filled weekend began. We came from Massachusetts, Missouri, Chicago, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Colorado, Kansas, and California – 15 out of 18! Seeing everyone as a group after all this time was truly an awe-inspiring moment; it was a “bucket list” experience to be sure. We met for a wonderful shabbat dinner and began laughing the moment we were all together. The laughter lasted the entire weekend. We recounted stories about each other (and learned some new ones…), reminisced about our Herzl memories, shared pictures and spoke about how important the summer of 1983 truly was.
When Bob Wolk (Herzl director, 1983) notified me that I would be Mama Ozo, I clearly remember feeling like the luckiest person in the world. I treasured being a 1980 Ozo and I now had the chance to relive the experience through a different perspective. I was bound and determined to not miss this reunion no matter the cost or travel difficulties. I knew I had to be there.
Seeing each Ozo was like a miracle –they are such wonderful people with beautiful sparks of goodness. When we were all together it was a giant flame that burned bright. On Friday night we talked and laughed so much, it was hard to say goodnight. In fact, Papa Ozo Ricky Bloomfield enjoyed a little kuntz the next morning at his home, left by a car full of (adult!) ozrim who wanted to make that night’s fun last a little longer. We were back again together on Saturday afternoon through the evening at Ezy’s house (I don’t think we ever called him by his name – Richard Ezrilov). Here, the stories were told that Ricky and I were not privy to when we were at camp. It was probably better that they waited 27 years to tell us. Ricky Bloomfield is still talking about Ricky Ansel’s wake-up routine. I can safely say that we all truly loved being together. It also became more and more clear that the summer of 1983 was magical for each and every one of us.
Sunday we were off to camp. Sometimes things just work out – even when you don’t plan for them: it was visitor’s day. And my luck just kept getting better as I had the good fortune to drive up to camp with Gotts (Steve Gottlieb), Ricky and Debbie Chanen Bear — what a car ride. And yes, I had to get permission to be at camp. I was even assigned a tour guide (thankfully it was Usey (Jeff Usem, part of our original posse). My biggest fear was just seeing the “wall” (don’t ask) and was relieved to know that I didn’t have to take a swim test. Everything was a little different, but I struggled to find my name that I had painstakingly written in toothpaste (no luck) everywhere with every date I had ever been at camp. But when that trademark Herzl ruach started, it sent me through a 27-year time warp. I am not sure how many decibels were blasting that morning but I must say it was electrifying.
It was the energy in that room that gave me that Herzl feeling and made me miss camp and remind me why I went for so many years. Being back at Herzl was timeless and perfect……I just wanted to stay. I was so excited to be able to sing our Ozo song even though none of us remembered it (except Albie). The ’83 Ozo women were a little resistant – they didn’t feel we were “relevant.” If you know me, of course that didn’t matter to me as I was bound and determined to belt out the old tune even if we had to use song sheets.
As we drove out that long road, I felt so lucky to have been a part of this particular group. Each of my many years at Herzl was special, but something about that Mama Ozo year, and watching each ’83 Ozo experience it then and now was just stellar. I love the 1983 Ozrim and I am so proud of each of them. A stop at the Northview Drive-In was a bonus, and we even got a cameo appearance by friends and long-married Herzl Camp/Omaha sweethearts Corey Kirshenbaum and Marcy Noodel (their son Ryan was an Ozo last summer).
I’m glad that they worked so hard to find Ricky and me to include us in this unbelievable weekend. Being together, hearing the stories and laughing ‘til it hurt was much more fun than a Facebook status update will ever be. Everyone should have the opportunity to experience their Herzl memories this way – live and loud and in person.
Missy Korenblat-Hanin
1976 Camper
1977 Camper
1978 Kadimah Camper
1980 Ozo
1981 Madricha
1982 Madricha
1983 Mama Ozo
1985 Program Director
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Herzl Camp Can Make All the Difference
July 24, 2009 by Herzl Camp Admin, under Letters from Alumni.
By Jeff Usem
What does Herzl Camp mean to you? To me, it was everything Jewish.
Growing up in Red Wing, Minnesota, there weren’t too many things to make me (and my brothers and cousins) feel Jewish. Our parents had the wisdom to keep a kosher home, which certainly wasn’t an easy thing to do, not because it was what others were doing, but because it’s what they felt we needed to do in order to have a constant reminder of our Jewish identity. Other than that, the weekly Bar/Bat-Mitzvah tutoring (for those of that age) and annual pilgrimage to the Twin Cities for High Holiday services just wasn’t going to be enough. Until I got off that Lee Line bus in 1975 and walked nervously into a big orange building, not yet knowing how easy it would be for me to call it the Ulam, I had no idea what having Jewish friends would mean to me.
I vividly remember shaking on my bench, having absolutely no idea with whom I would be bunked, because unlike many others who were there with groups of friends, it didn’t make any difference to me. The difference to me was that everyone, and everything, was Jewish. Of course, it helped a little that there were a few other Usems up at camp to make me more comfortable (yes, even back then). When I heard someone say… Cabin 15: David Schlaifer, Scott Stein, Jeff Usem… who knew that I’d be living in Plymouth, Minnesota, 34 years later, sharing a suburb with David and being friends on Facebook reading updates on our families and lives?
Who could have imagined that the next summer, in 1976, when they read strange names again… Cabin 19: Ricky Bloomfield, Steve Gottlieb, Andy Fishman, Jeff Usem… that I’d be bunking for three weeks with my future college roommate and Best Man at our wedding, and with friends that are amongst my closest and most valuable friendships today? And again in 1977… Cabin 21: Ben Deutsch (who?), Jeff Usem… two strangers, both from small towns in Minnesota, who happened to have a common bond of playing the trombone and tennis (oh, and being Jewish), have the opportunity to develop a friendship that would bring them together again for college at UW-Madison and be strong enough to keep them flying across the country every year to play golf, attend Badger football games, and to make sure that their kids have a chance to be friends.
I could go on, and probably should, to mention many more names as fellow Ozrim in 1979, madrichim in 1980-81, and program directors (Kadimah) in 1982. The fact that some of these names continue to resurface as fellow volunteers on the Herzl board of directors shows the type of effect this place can have on people. As I look back through those years, and really think about the people I met, and the impact they’ve had on my life, it is truly remarkable, as I’m sure it is for many of you. Maybe I’m a little more nostalgic than usual, this being the 30th anniversary of my Ozo year, as we reach out to as many as possible to help rebuild this magical place on the shores of Devils Lake to ensure that it’s there for the next generation, and the one after that.
I still sing the Herzl song every time I drive down the winding road into camp. I can’t even tell you how comforting it is to know that both of our kids are up there, as I type, developing the friendships that I know will have an impact on them for the rest of their lives. I look forward to returning to camp again in a couple weeks Aug. 7-9 for Alumni Camp to rekindle some of those memories and to make new ones (and yes, there’s still room and time, so you could be there too!).
I never knew what being Jewish really was, or what it really meant, until I met Herzl Camp. I can’t thank my parents enough for putting me on those busses way back when – oh, what a difference it has made in my Jewish life, and continues to make in the lives of our children. Herzl l’tamid… Shabbat Shalom!