HALE -- STILL HEARTY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS SINCE 1900, IT HAS OFFERED DISADVANTAGED YOUTH A BREAK FROM THE CITY

Author(s): Tammy Ross, Contributing Reporter Date: July 16, 1995 Page: 7 Section: CITY WEEKLY

SANDWICH -- The echo of steady chatter bounces off the tall pines as 14 boys meander around Camp Hale's shady waterfront. Some are in the water, and their playful splashing sends tiny ripples across the lake's surface. Three campers, strapped in life preservers, float next to their capsized canoe, while four others in another canoe clamor to execute a T-Rescue.

This is a survival skills test that prepares campers for the dangers of the open waters -- and it all happens safely behind the dock. Da-Shawn Hinton emerges from the water after witnessing the teams' comical first attempt, but he is more excited about how well he floats on his back.

"Did you see me?" the 9-year-old asks Reynardo Martinez, Camp Hale's assistant director. "I'm good!"

Hinton is one of more than 100 boys from Boston who will attend Camp Hale this summer. As an agency of the United South End Settlements (USES), Camp Hale's mission is to provide respite for inner city kids who live in the South End, Roxbury and Dorchester.

"In the city there's a whole bunch of crime," said Hinton, of Dorchester. "In the woods, it's just nature and stuff."

Victor Arrington, 9, of Dorchester agreed. "It's fun here," he said. "They don't have things like this in Boston."

For that reason Camp Hale was founded in 1900, and it is one of the oldest continually run boys' camps in the country, said Rob Grable, president of the N.H. Camp Directors Association. The camp, located on Squam Lake, began when the concentration of Europeans coming into the United States was at
its highest. In 1895 Dr. Edward Everett Hale, a Unitarian minister, started a settlement house in Boston's South End -- Hale House. College students moved into the house and aided immigrants in finding jobs to support their families. After five years, a desire to get outdoors led Hale and his followers to develop a vigorous camping program for the immigrant children. Camp Hale ran every year except 1944, when the war effort prevented it from opening. Over the years, the dynamics of the Boston neighborhoods have changed, said Frieda Garcia, president of USES, a nonprofit organization that provides services to low-income residents of Boston. Children who attend Camp Hale now are primarily Hispanics and African-Americans. Poverty threatened the immigrants of the early 20th century, but today, drugs and gang violence are the dangers. At Camp Hale, they can escape these problems.

"This camp is structured for stressed populations," said Nick Haddad, former camp director.
As a kid growing up in 1950s Boston, Haddad said his biggest fear was of getting beaten up. Today kids are afraid of getting killed. But fights are rare at Hale, said Haddad.

"The turf issues in cities don't exist up here," he said. "They come up here and leave their turf behind."

Martinez said boys must apply for admission into Camp Hale. He reviews the application, interviews the candidate and his parent(s) and decides if the boy's circumstances warrant admission. The camp program primarily targets at- risk kids from low-income families, often single-parent families. They aim for kids they think will benefit from the program. Parents pay a sliding fee for their son to attend the camp -- usually $250 per session, said Garcia. She said the continued physical and financial support from camp alumni and other organizations is necessary to keep the camp running.

George Vounatsos of Dover continues to support Camp Hale through volunteer work and fund-raising. He attended Camp Hale in 1937, during the Depression, when it cost his parents $3 to send him for three weeks. He remembers taking the train from Boston through New Hampshire to Squam Lake. There he'd get on a boat and travel eight miles across the water to the camp.

"It was a mind-boggling experience for a kid, especially for a kid from the South End," said Vounatsos, adding that Squam has remained more pristine than most other natural areas. He said Hale gave many kids the notion of hope and the ambition to aspire for something better -- like college.

"Camp Hale really shaped my life," said Vounatsos, who worked for USES when it was the Federation of South End Settlements. "I think I speak for a lot of people who feel the same way."

There are 56 campers each session. They are divided into eight cabins with two or three counselors per cabin. A handful of leaders in training and counselors-in-training also assist the staff. This year, first-session campers, ages 8 to 11, arrived at Hale on July 1, said Martinez. Second- session campers, ages 10-13, arrive July 29. All campers endure a rigorous schedule of daily activities: swimming, boating, canoeing, fishing, nature hikes, camp craft (tent-pitching and fire- building), soccer, archery, arts and crafts, mountain hiking, pioneering and orienteering.

Hakim Reid, 15, is a junior counselor in the counselor-in- training program. He was a camper for four years and spent his fifth year as a leader in training. He said being at camp has helped him get in shape. "I was a lazy house kid," said Reid, of Dorchester. "I was gasping for breath the first time I ever climbed a mountain.
The second time I felt a little pain in my chest, but by the third time, I was fine."

The staff at Camp Hale is diverse -- it includes former campers, like Haddad and Martinez, as well as international counselors from places such as New Zealand and Russia. Paul Burke, interim director, was a camper in 1951-52. The next four years he was a counselor. He remembers being Haddad's cabin leader. Burke left camp, went to college, got married, served in the army for 28 years, only to return to Hale as business manager.

"Nick Haddad was my boss," Burke said, laughing at the irony.

Malcolm "Butch" Kurkjian and Richard Stack were campers and kitchen boys together during the 1950s. Now they are both maintenance men at the camp. "We used to chop wood together," said Kurkjian, who lives in Methuen. Kurkjian met his wife, Jean, who also works at the camp, while he was a counselor at Camp Hale.
"She was a counselor at the girls' camp in Gloucester," he said.

Peter Sheehan was a camper in the late '40s and early '50s. He remembers 1954, the year he was kitchen boy. "We were closing up camp when Hurricane Carol hit," said Sheehan. He said they tried to leave camp, but fallen tree branches and broken wires forced them to seek refuge in a farmhouse. "We were stuck there for about an hour," Sheehan said. "Then we went back to camp to finish cleaning."

Inside the dining hall where cook Geneva Dixon works, mementoes decorate the wooden walls. Tongue depressors hang on one wall in the corner, each etched with the name of a Chips cabin camper who attended Hale between 1952 and 1957. International counselors have hung flags made from construction paper throughout the room. Plaques, pictures and a case of old baseballs adorn the walls -- each item has a story behind it. "The camp itself is like a storybook," Dixon said.

Kurkjian is most proud of the camp's success. "Great men came out of this place -- that's why I donate my time to these kids," he said, adding that he wants his great grandchildren to know Camp Hale. "I'd rather be here than anyplace else in the world."