It may be the tragic events at Virginia Tech or the remembering the Columbine incident, but for whatever reason, my mind went back to a summer I spent at Camp Koda near Naples, Maine, when I was a kid. It was the worst period of my childhood. All because of a bully and SOB named Charlie Kaiser.
I remember very little of my childhood, most memories having been lost or blocked or whatever. The few fragments of memory that remain are, for the most part, unhappy ones. In any event, Charlie was in my cabin at Camp and every night and afternoon, whenever the idea occurred to him, he would torment me, hitting, name calling and totally abusive; he would rip the comic books my parents had sent in a package, he would incite others to join in. The worst thing was that others did participate until I was lefty crying and humiliated.
Other boys from my home town lived in nearby cabins and they did nothing to support me. I hated each and every one and had fantasies about hurting or scaring them all. Of course. I did nothing and just felt the pain.
I know that the counselors and camp owners were aware of my torment but no one came to my aid, no one told the world that Charlie was an total worthless bastard.
So I'm going to say it and admit that I hope Charlie roasts in Hell.
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1 comment:
I too was a camper at Camp Koda.
As I recall, the owner of the camp was a school director from Boston.
I recall two older boys who must have had some training in boxing. They delighted in striking the younger boys.
Albert Kaplan
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